#dilution B

[felinefractious]

🐱 Devon Rex

📸 Izabela Podlewska [Gang Futrzaka*PL]

🎨 Chocolate, Lilac

[hedgehog-moss]

Writers who use imitative harmony + the movement of their language to evoke meaning are so great to re-read once you’ve learnt this language, if you’ve read them in translation before, it feels like the best reward. I’m reading Annie Proulx in the original for the first time, and so much of her writing style was just not salvageable by French translators (< my condolences), because she intertwines sound with meaning so often, at least in Close Range, and French just doesn’t sound the same! so by translating the meaning you’ll sacrifice a lot of the style... It reminds me of a haunted house book in French that also made me think “haha RIP translators” because it made great use of sound—a lot of “u / eu / ou” to create a sort of sinister howling effect in some sentences, and one sentence about a closed door used “i” and “rr” sounds to give an ominous “creaking open” sensation without actually opening the door in the text...

This kind of thing always makes me reflect despairingly on how many authors I’ll never get to appreciate fully as I can’t read them in the original, but I’m glad to re-discover Annie Proulx at any rate! I mean compare the sound of a phrase like “a hundred dirt road shortcuts” to the French “des centaines de raccourcis, des routes de terre”... First of all the English phrase sounds clippety-cloppy, it sounds like hooves on a dirt road in a way that’s very hard to preserve in a language without syllable stress, but also the French language demands that you turn it into ‘a hundred of shortcurts of roads of dirt’, so it’s best to dilute it into two phrases, and you just lose the clippedness. It sounds less tight, more leisurely.

Same for the phrase “the tawny plain still grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts” vs. “la plaine fauve encore marquée des ornières laissées par les chariots des pèlerins.” That’s a 54% expansion ratio and once again you turn the tight clippedness of ‘grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts’ into ‘grooved with the ruts left by the wagons of the pilgrims.’ You just can’t avoid it, French words have to hold hands in a long procession rather than being stacked like pancakes on top of one another. And sometimes it makes for lovely stylistic effects too (*), but it doesn’t fit the style of a text like this one, which uses rhythm and sound in a very un-French way—rhythmicality in French tends to rely on long flowy phrasings rather than the potholed ruggedness this story demands. (I saw a NY Times article describe it as Annie Proulx “mining the ore of language out of a gritty Wyoming rockscape”)

The rhythm of this whole bit is so neat, you can snap your fingers along with it: “hard orange dawn, the world smoking, snaking dust devils on bare dirt, heat boiling out of the sun until the paint on the truck hood curled, ragged webs of dry rain that never hit the ground, through small-town traffic and stock on the road, band of horses in morning fog...”

The French version is not finger-snapping material but you can tell the translator did her very best to preserve the author’s intention by creating interesting rhythms in French as well. For “hard orange dawn” she could have kept close to the original with, say, “la dureté orange de l’aube” but instead she chose to turn ‘hard’ into a four-syllable adjective (éblouissante / blinding) to end up with a noticeable rhythm—“les aubes orange, éblouissantes,” one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four (and she made ‘dawn’ plural for the same reason.) She wasn’t able to preserve the g/r alliteration of “GRooved with pilGRim waGon Ruts” (although her translated phrase also has a lot of R’s) but she did preserve the ‘sss’ alliteration of “Smoking Snaking duSt” (“pouSSière Serpentant Sur le Sol”). Even with languages as close as French and English, for every stylistic effect you can save you have to sacrifice a few, or replace them with opposite effects which align better with your language’s notions of literary style (like with the orange dawn bit, doubling the length of a tight phrase so it can sound rhythmical).

You can tell all throughout the book that a lot of thought and care went into respecting Annie Proulx’s writing choices and you still end up with sentences that sound and move so differently. You get to see the limit of translation when authors fully lean on their language’s syntax and melody to help convey meaning, like poets do!

(*) Re: English stacking words and French linking them—this reminds me of an essay I read by an English translator of Proust who despaired of this difference in the opposite direction—saying some long, descriptive phrases in Proust with articles & prepositions linking words, and commas linking phrases with regularity, read like telling the beads of a rosary. And the sensation (or a lot of it) had to be sacrificed because English just does not use as many linking words as French, information is conveyed in a more economical way, so a lot of these sentences with a hypnotic rhythm like “the A, of the B, of the C, whereby the D, of the E, on an F” were often not achievable with English syntax or created redundancy (e.g. having to use ‘that’ or ‘which’ 5 times when French used different tool words). But he said he did try to form sentences that had this continuity, and meditative quality.

I don’t have a conclusion to this post other than to say something precious will be lost if human translation is replaced by AI translation, because literary translation involves creativity and ambiguity and aesthetic considerations and a dimension of instinctual feeling for your own language and the original style, and I don’t think any amount of data and processing power and artificial neural networks will yield the flavour of literary quality that emerges from human sensibility and care, from someone reading a sentence and thinking “this feels like hooves clippety-clopping down a dirt road” or “this feels like rolling the beads of a rosary” and starting from there...

[in-asterism]

cursed daughter of a blessed mother who is the blessed daughter of a cursed mother who is the cursed daughter of a cursed mother

[tastycitrus]

me waking up in a cold sweat: if steph and cass had been created as male characters, they would be incredibly popular. they would also be flanderized like crazy, and the most yaoi twinkified pair in existence

[unproduciblesmackdown]

set out to create a serious, canonesque drawing with which to say "feel free to go in my lackadaisy tag and help me mystery speculate" but only got going when i made it bowling and the rarepair agenda

[usercelestial]

✨ venting ✨

[scatteredcloud]

What the fuck am I going to do if I have cancer again

[coryosbaby]

Mascara || T. Riddle

Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’

Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader

｡.｡ ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom

Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.

Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.

The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.

The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.

You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.

He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.

You let out a breath of air.

You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.

“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”

His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.

To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.

He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.

“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”

Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.

“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.

“Don’t.”

You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.

“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”

It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.

“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”

“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”

“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”

His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.

“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”

“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”

He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.

“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.

“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”

You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.

“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.

“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”

His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.

You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.

Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.

“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”

You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.

When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.

“Prepared, weren’t you?”

You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.

Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.

“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.

His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.

And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.

“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”

He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.

He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.

When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.

He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.

“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”

Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.

“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.

“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”

It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.

He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.

“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”

“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.

“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”

Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.

“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”

A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.

You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.

“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”

Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.

He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.

You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.

“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”

[biscuitdolly]

easy hygiene tips ♡

to improve physical appearance , health and hygiene are a must.

water ♡

water. please , for the love of god , drink water. get up rn and go drink some water. water does so much , want clear skin? water. want to lose weight? water. want to feel more refreshed? water. ITS SO HELPFUL!! you really don't want to be dehydrated, it has so many negative effects.

i would aim for around 2 liters (8 full glasses) a day , but you can slowly increase your water intake over the span of a few weeks if you're not ready for that. if you like me and forget to drink , set alarms or reminders for when you need to.

apple cider vinegar ♡

okay , yes, it tastes gross, but it's so good for your PH!! just drink 2 teaspoons everyday (dilute with water first) , trust me it will make your body sweat and kitty smell (and taste) soo much better!! it can also help u lose weight , decrease waist size and is so good for your skin!!

easy oral hygiene ♡

brush your teeth at least 3 times a day. i normally opt for brushing my teeth twice in a row morning and night , and once during the day (yes , even if i'm at school). also , don't forget to floss!! most importantly u wanna b scraping/brushing your tongue, along with brushing your gums and the roof of your mouth!! If you're not brushing regularly and not brushing your tongue, your breath is gonna stink.

another tip - mints > gum. no matter how minty your gum is , if you're chewing it all day it's gonna make your breath smell bad. a sugar-free mint that specialises in good breath every morning helps so much for me.

shower/bath care ♡

please wash behind your ears and your belly button. every part of your body should be clean!!! you don't want build-up.

exfoliate before and after u shave. this will leave u feeling SO smooth and helps avoid razor bumps , if you have sensitive skin (like me) it can help avoid irritation (i get SO itchy and my skin gets covered in red bumps if i don't exfoliate when shaving). personally, i don't suffer from oily skin , but if u do, exfoliating afterwards helps remove any dirt from clogged pores and any residue build-up!

use different clothes depending on what part of your body you're cleaning!! use a softer cloth for your face and kitty , and use regular clothes for the main part of your body and bum. NEVER wash your face in the shower! you want your face to have its own personal time for you to clean it so you can really focus on it. also , hot water from the shower can damage your skin and make it dry. your shower head also probably has a lot of bacteria hiding in it, so please wash your face separately after your shower.

[felinefractious]

🐱 Peterbald [Hairless]

📸 Mark Kantrowitz

🎨 Chocolate Point [possible Pink-Eyed Dilution]

[dissociacrip]

i saw that one disability-related post a while ago about dental care but i can't find it again so i'm gonna mention a few things as a (mild to moderately) mentally & physically disabled person, whose teeth hurt when i eat sweet stuff now + i've had a root canal due to a fall + i'm learning to take care of myself, that may or may not help other folks with their dental routine

note: i am not a dentist & this info is mostly what i've gleaned secondhand from dentists, so yeah, i am not an expert in any capacity

water flossers aren't as effective as regular flossing (doing both is actually what's most effective) but they're better than nothing & helpful in cases where coordination problems or other issues might prevent regular flossing technique (i imagine this also depends on the quality of the water flosser)

if you use one of the plastic pre-made floss picks things, rinse the string off in-between each time you use it to floss one side of a tooth, it's tedious but it mimics moving to a new (clean) part of the thread like you do with regular floss

if you get an automatic toothbrush, get one that does circular rotation rather than just vibrating or whatever, as this mimics the tools they use in a dentist's office + imitates the circular motion you're expected to make with a standard toothbrush (which is also hard with coordination issues), i got one that does this pretty cheap from walmart (it's an oral-b but i forgot the specific type) + it automatically times it for you

if you have white spots on your teeth that are uneven with the shade of the rest of the tooth those are potentially white spot lesions due to demineralization; whitening products can make this worse rather than help it, but some products can help with remineralization such as mi paste topical tooth creme, which contains calcium and phosphate (i have yet to try this myself but it seems to get suggested by a lot of dentists, orthodontists, etc. for white spots on teeth & it's also supposed to help with sensitivity and tooth health in general because the white spots are lesions so it's not purely cosmetic!)

it's advised to not rinse your mouth immediately after brushing as this potentially dilutes & reduces the effects of the flouride (if you use fluoride toothpaste), stuff says to wait at least 15 minutes or so

just giving your teeth a quick scrub (even if it's without toothpaste and just water) is better than not brushing your teeth at all

if you have trouble seeing a dentist for financial reasons, try to see if there are income-based or charity dental services in your area, sometimes dental schools also provide low-cost/free dental care

that's all i can think of for now, i wish i had more advice for people who struggle to be able to brush their teeth at all in general but this is all i got unfortunately :(

additionally - you're not bad, useless, gross, or a failure if you struggle to (or can't) maintain oral hygiene; this stuff is much easier for some people than it is to others & those who take it for granted like to forget that, no one deserves to be mocked or looked down on for being disabled & struggling to/not being able to do """basic""" stuff like this!

[snakenerdbleh]

Trying my hand at this....thing...known as fanart. Should I try filling in some diluted colors or does the B&W aesthetic work better?

Colour does, in fact, work better

[shellxrls]

jj maybank x fem!reader…

warnings: oral (male receiving) / descriptions of vomit and gagging

jj's dick is obscenely large and yet that doesn’t stop him from hooking two blunt fingernails into the cranny between your lower & upper jaw and wedging a handful of his thick digits to blockade your mouth from closing, now permanently gaping around his disgustingly large and leaking cock.

his tip protrudes grossly on your uvula, dismantling any sense of boundaries and invading all your senses, face smushed so far into his pubes you can smell the sweat and grime all the way down to where his mushroom tip is scraping your palate, the scent engulfing your rational thoughts and leaving you feeling bleary and perverse for enjoying this so much.

“ahh,” he motions, “sweetheart you gotta say ahh or ‘m not gonna fit.” you’re trying your hardest, you really are, salt burning into the exhausted tear stains of your watery eyes and reminding you of the painstaking effort it had taken you to even get this far.

jj sighs at your effort, evidently disappointed, following up with a mumbled “like you’re not even trying.”

you’re so stuffed you wonder how you’ve even managed to hear it, but it still leaves your stomach churning with the bitter taste of invalidation, and so you choke past your gag reflex and the biting sting of your overworked jaw to sink down onto his full length.

the noise that leaves your mouth is guttural, throat immediately triggered and closing up on this intrusion, saliva regurgitating itself from the pits of your salivary glands and messing itself into his pubes with slick, throaty noises coming from your violated mouth.

“fuckk me” jj hums, clenching a fist into your hair and forcing you to stay down, utterly consumed by his own pleasure.

you acquiesce, acutely aware of your lack of power to stop your fighting gag reflex and the lunch rocking unsteadily in your stomach.

it doesn’t take long before he’s cumming in spurts, the lukewarm liquid forcing its way down your throat. the bittersweet tang is what finally breaks your composure, forcing you to regorge it back up into john b’s dick slightly milkier, diluted with saliva. you only choke further on this, however, and the overwhelming putridity of the situation that’s invaded your senses set you off a second time, a mix of warm bile and stomach acid swiftly emptying itself up all over jj’s thighs and matting itself in his happy trail and pubes.

you tear up immediately after, fat droplets wetting your cheeks and staining your face from regret, overwhelmed by the situation and entirely distraught.

jj, on the other hand, is clutching his stomach in agitation, the ego trip from seeing you purge yourself on him causing his dick to twitch further and leak out another steady stream of droplets, leaving him groaning in painful pleasure.

eventually he stutters out some consolement, patting the hiccuping-tears out of you softly and promising responsibility to clean you both up — and that whatever you had just done had been one of the hottest things he'd ever experienced.

[https-florals]

thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me - j.m.

summary: if there was a contest for the world’s stupidest teenagers, you and jj would take first place.

word count: 3.1k??? i got a little carried away

warnings: a little language. 

a/n: childhood best friends to lovers, a little argument, tiniest bit of angst. WHOLEEE lotta fluff. reading it back, im starting to wonder if it really flows together or if it even makes sense, but i think its cute and i liked writing it!! as always, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. i adore you all!!

“Can I crash at your place tonight?” JJ blurts out the question, almost like he’s scared of the answer.

The two of you are headed away from a long day of surfing, your hair tangled and a little crunchy from the saltwater. You probably would have stayed out later, if it weren’t for how nasty the waves were getting. JJ had gotten pushed under and scraped against a reef, and you had slipped and landed facefirst into the side of your board, both of your accidents resulting in some pretty nasty cuts. Some old 2000s playlist is playing through the aux, and you’re driving while JJ holds a can of beer to your busted lip. 

“Or..” he swallows. “Maybe until your parents get back? They’re outta town for like another three days, right?

You give him a sidelong glance and push the can away, your lip numb from the coldness. JJ isn’t the type to ask favors, so you’re a little taken aback. You don’t ask questions though; you just nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You pause, and then grin, saying, “You scared my daddy would run you off with a shotgun if he was home?”

He huffs and shoves the corner of a towel into your face. “Your lip’s bleeding again, dumbass. And no. He just scares me a little.”

Swatting him away and laughing, you go back to the subject of him staying at your house. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can stay as long as you need. Plus, that gives me a chance to make sure you don’t let those cuts get infected.” You gesture to the raw skin on his torso. 

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he scoffs, but the way he runs his hand over his side and winces isn’t lost on you. 

By the time you pull into your driveway, it’s started to rain. Beams from the sunset hit the droplets just perfectly, and a rainbow stretches over the cut. It’s so pretty, and if your neck wasn’t so sore and if JJ wasn’t so cut up you would’ve taken the opportunity to pull him out in the rain and force him to dance with you. But he is trying to pick up the cooler and the towels and take it all inside himself, so you run around to the trunk and nudge him away. “Stop! Just grab the towels, you’re too bruised up to lift that.” Wedging yourself between him and the trunk, you set the cooler down on the gravel.

“C’mon,” he sighs, saying your name entreatingly. “No bruise is gonna mess with these.” JJ flexes and grins, and you glare at him.

“Never do that again. If you want to keep me as a friend, you will never flex in front of me again.” You’re only half-joking.

He fake-yawns and stretches, making sure to flex again when you look back up at him. “I know, you can’t even stand to be around a sex god like me.”

You look at him, jaw dropped in faux horror, and shake your head. “That’s it. Maybank, you can go stay at the Chateau.”

“I’ll tell John B you just couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he teases, leaning against you and making kissy noises into your ear.

You are giggling between fake gags, pushing him away gently. “Get your shit and go inside, freak,” you laugh as you tug the cooler into the garage.

Kicking your sandals off by the door,you grab some antibacterial soap, and then check under the sink for peroxide and bandages. 

When JJ comes inside, you’re diluting a little cup of the peroxide with water. Pushing that and the soap towards him, you say, “Go shower and flush the cuts out with that-” you tap the cup- “then scrub with the soap. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but it’ll get worse if it gets infected.”

He frowns, and takes them. “Okay, nurse.”

You both take fast showers, and soon the two of you are back in the living room. You’re wearing borrowed boxers and a big tshirt, and JJ has on the clothes he left last time he came over. Your mother always insists on doing your friends’ laundry, and thank God she does. 

“Sit on the couch,” you instruct JJ, pouring some antiseptic onto cotton pads.

“I can do it myself,” he huffs, but he doesn’t make any more complaints when you climb over him and straddle one of his legs. In fact, he’s staring at you with a kind of awe in his expression. 

“Lift your shirt up,” you command, looking at him with a stony expression.

He rolls his eyes, but obeys, hands a little shaky as he pulls up the fabric and you begin to clean the wound.

JJ hisses at the stinging, his muscles contracting and shifting under your fingertips.

You shush him and readjust so you’re sitting a little higher on his thigh rather than his knee. “Breathe, JJ.” Mentally, you’re telling yourself to breathe too. You’re just helping your best friend. Your heart shouldn’t be racing like it is.

One of his hands balls into a fist, and the other lands on your waist, grasping the worn fabric of your tee. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his lips are parted as he tilts his head back and groans.

You’re shameless in the way you’re staring at him. Maybe you shouldn’t find him in pain so very attractive, but- you’re just observing. You’re not even paying attention to what you're doing anymore as you wipe the cotton haphazardly over his cuts; you just watch the way his jaw tenses and relaxes. He opens one eye, and you jump slightly, heat infusing into your cheeks.

“Distracted?” he teases.

You scoff in response, bandaging up his cuts and climbing off of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

JJ doesn’t press it any further; he just smirks and leans back onto the couch.

It’s getting late, the cloudy sky turning deep, dusky amber with the setting sun. It’s still raining, harder now, and JJ has the weatherman on TV as you throw together a quick dinner. It’s a three course meal of pizza pockets, some sliced up cucumber and ranch, and a pack of oreos split between the two of you. After some bickering, you settle on a movie to watch together. It’s some old rom-com JJ is obsessed with it, and you have never even heard of it. 

You’re still whining through the first twenty minutes; saying, “A Christmas movie? It’s not even Christmas!”

He shushes you, putting his arm around your shoulders and giving you a playful thump on the head. “It’s got John Cusack in it. Everybody loves John Cusack.”

Sure enough, by the end of Serendipity, you decide you love John Cusack. “I feel a little bad for his fiancée,” you yawn, slumped against the blond boy beside you. There’s no point where you aren’t touching: shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. “I still don’t understand why he’d just leave her.”

You do understand actually, but you would listen to JJ explain the plot a thousand times if it meant you could stay this close. His hand is on your shoulder, fingers playing with the collar of your t-shirt as he talks about fate. It’s a little poetic, in fact, it’s the most serious you’ve heard him in a while.

“The whole idea about having someone destined for you is just really beautiful, you know. Like someone out there is supposed to love you no matter what. Like, the universe doesn’t give a shit about what you’ve done or where you come from. It’s just in total agreement that you deserve to be loved.”

You’re resting your head on his bicep, watching his expressions as he talks. His blue eyes are like lights across the water, his mouth serious. 

“That just seems so… I dunno, fair. Like that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“J, you know that the universe doesn’t have a say in whether or not you’re worthy of love, right?”

He’s a bit caught off guard, looking you in the eyes now. “What?”

You adjust so you're facing him, legs criss-crossed on the couch. Hands in your lap, you wring your fingers as you begin to speak. “I just want to make sure that you know you…” you pause, and breathe. “You’re worthy of love, JJ. Destiny doesn’t determine that.”

His gaze softens for a split second, and he unconsciously rubs his side, the one bruised. But, then the mask is back up quicker than you can snap. He scoffs, moving his arm away from where you're leaning against it. “I know that. None of the Pogues are getting more love than me,” he smirks, but its a little half-hearted. 

“I’m serious, JJ. I’’n not talking about fucking around,” you sigh. 

He says your name a little rough, a little annoyed. A plea for you to stop. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have with you. Especially not right now. “Don’t start with the mushy shit,” he coaxes, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

You stand up, your temper a little hotter. “It’s not mushy shit! It’s the truth, and I’m not gonna sit here while you feel sorry for yourself, acting like you don’t deserve every single good thing.”

“I’m not acting sorry for myself!”

You’re on a roll now, and JJ can’t stop you now. “You so are! You won’t let anyone get close, cause you’re so scared that they’re gonna hurt you.”

He stands up quick, almost knocking you back. You stare up at him, his face a mere handbreadth away, but you don’t back down. “I’m not gonna bet on a race that I know I’m gonna lose,” he says, voice low.

“Love isn’t- it’s not- you can’t win if you’re more afraid of losing!” You’re not even sure if you’re making sense at this point. You don’t really know what sparked this little flame in you. Maybe it’s your PMS, or maybe it’s the rain making you antsy.. Maybe it’s the years or worrying, all the times he has done something reckless and stupid and kept you and your friends up all night. Maybe it’s the blatant disregard for his own wellbeing, or the way he ignores your questions about new cuts or bruises. Now, everything is spilling out, in words, in tears. “You never even give it the chance!”

“It’s just not in the cards for me, okay?”

You start to hit his chest, but he grabs your wrists and holds you steady. “It’s just how it is, and I’m okay with that,” he says, trying to infuse a brightness into his voice.

You snatch your wrists away, and yank your blanket up off the couch. “I don’t know if you’re- I don’t know, blind or just plain fucking stupid.”

His eyebrows furrow as you walk away from him. “What?”

“I’m going to bed.”

He says your name quick and a little strained, but you don’t turn to look at him. You disappear down the hallway, leaving JJ to slump on the couch, alone.

It takes no more than twenty minutes for the blond to come slinking into your bedroom. JJ whispers your name as he cracks open the door, but you don’t answer. He can't tell if you’re really asleep yet, so he just slides under the covers next to you, like he used to when you were kids. You still have the same full bed, and your sheets still smell like salt water and coconut shampoo. When your breath hitches as his hand comes to rest right by your back, he knows that you’re awake. 

“Do you really think I’m stupid?”

“Yeah.” You don’t move, voice muffled against your pillow. 

JJ lays parallel to you, almost painfully close, but not touching. “Come on, talk to me.”

You huff and roll over to face him. “Why aren’t you sleeping on the couch?”

“It’s scary as hell out there alone. Y’all got too many windows.”

Just like that, any animosity dissipates. “You’re supposed to be the man, JJ. S’posed to protect me.” You’re clutching a stuffed animal to your chest, and you push it into JJ’s. It’s an old battered dolphin pillow pet, and his hands close instinctively around it. It’s sat on your bed since fourth grade, and the stuffing isn’t as fluffy as it used to be. He remembers when you first got it. “Mr. Melon’s feeling a little flat,” he comments.

You nod, but are silent, watching the tendons in his hands and the bones of his knuckles. In fact, you’re a little shocked that he remembers the stuffed animal’s name.

“Remember when we used to have sleepovers like, every night?” JJ asks, a little laughter in his voice. “I never understood why your mom was so happy to have me over on school nights.”

There’s a twinge in your chest. You understood. Even during the worst of you and JJ’s childhood arguments, your mom would coax you to invite him over, and she’d patch up his cuts and wash the dirt and blood stains out of his clothes.

“I miss our sleepovers,” you sigh. The two of you have scooted closer together subconsciously, the only barrier being Mr. Melon.

JJ nods, and asks, “Why’d we ever stop?”

You smile. “We got old, J.”

He sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry.”Who cares? We’re old now, and look at us. Having the time of our lives. We could be ninety and still be the funnest people in the OBX.”

“Most fun,” you correct with a grin.

“Hey, y’know I have a shitty English grade,” he answers, playfully punching your upper arm.

“My mom was scared I’d fall in love with you,” you comment, a little off-subject with a shaky smile plastered across your face. “She always said I’d fall head over heels, and that you’d be the biggest heartbreaker in the county.”

JJ’s face gets serious quick, faux solemnity all in his eyes. “A real concern,” he says, deadpan, “For mothers everywhere.”

“She was right about you being a heartbreaker! Remember that poor touron from the other weekend?”

He scowls and shakes his head. “I made it very clear that it was a one night type of thing.”

It makes you think of your argument from less than a hour ago. If love was in the cards for any of the Pogues, it had to be JJ. Girls tripped over themselves just so he would notice them. But, you laugh, shove him in the arm, and switch the subject. “Remember when you fought John B in here and broke my lamp?”

“Wasn’t that like, what, fifth grade?” 

“Yeah. It was my favorite fairy lamp, and you bumped into it and her head broke off!”

You're both giggling, the tiredness setting in. “He called you a bitch! That was a big bad word back then,” JJ laughs, blond hair tangled and messy as it falls across his pillow.

Your eyebrows quirk up. “You call me a bitch all the time now.”

“That’s different,” he waves his hand to cut you off. “But then? I couldn't let him mess with my girl.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you kick yourself mentally for being so damn cliche when you feel it.

The two of you keep exchanging stories, thunder rolling and the lightning lighting up your room every few minutes.

“So, old-fashioned slumber party with the whole gang tomorrow night?” JJ proposes, his goodnight, his eyes barely open.

You nod and smile, then you do your best Pogue handshake the two of you can manage while lying on your sides. 

Your eyes drift close, and after a few minutes of silence filled with JJ’s breathing and the sound of your heart, you say, “My mom was right about another thing.” JJ takes a moment to process, cracking his eyes back open to look at you. Yours are still squeezed shut because you're scared to look at him. “About me falling in love with you. It was inevitable.” You’re shaking, but it has to be said. You have to at least get it out there.

His mouth goes dry. 

The silence is killing you, but you don’t dare look at him.

“Like destiny,” he finally says, tripping over the first word.

A warmth spreads through you, heat in your cheeks and heart. “Exactly like destiny.”

When you finally get the courage to look at him, he’s staring at you like you’ve peeled back your skin and revealed solid diamond underneath. Awestruck, maybe a little fear in that deep blue.

You can hear your own heartbeat, and your breath is shallow and short. His, in contrast, is deep and slow.

“She was wrong about one thing though.”

You wait for his answer, lips parted as you watch his gaze go from your eyes, to your lips, and back to your eyes, down to your lips again…

“I could never break your heart.”

Your cheeks heat when he traces a line from the end of your eyebrow, down your cheek and jawline. It’s a ghost of a caress, almost like you’re some holy relic that he thinks will heal him.

You start to backtrack, feeling a little embarrassed, a little scared “J, you don’t- don’t have to say something you don’t mean.” 

JJ draws his hand back so fast you jump, and he sits up and scoffs. “You think I’m bullshitting you?”

Your stomach drops as the sudden shift in emotion, and you nod hesitantly.

His jaw clenches as he turns his face away from you, and when he looks back at you his lips are pressed into a firm line. You’ve seen this expression only a couple of times, and only when JJ is on the brink of tears. In fact, his eyes seem a little glassy when he starts to speak. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” he snaps. 

“J-”

JJ waves his hand to cut you off. “No. It’s my turn to talk.” His voice does that thing where it gets a little higher, stress peeking through the cracks in his pitch. “Y’know how you called me blind earlier? You’re the blindest person ever! Everybody else sees the way I look at you except you!” he cries. His hands push anxiously through his hair. “It’s been you. Always you. As long as I can remember.” The way he’s looking at you practically sets you on fire. You can see it now. All those years of childhood crushes, pining and overthinking are evident in his eyes, like a storm at sea. “You-” his voice breaks fully now, and he covers his mouth with his fist before breathing and continuing. “You were the first person who made me feel like I was someone. Like, loved. You really made me feel loved.”

“Always have, always will,” you blurt out.

That’s when the dam bursts, and JJ begins to cry. You sit up and throw your arms around him, and his hands grasp your shirt like you’re a lifeline. He’s murmuring your name like a prayer, over and over like he’s trying to do penance. Before you can even begin to console him, he kisses you quick and soft. 

“Is that okay?” It’s so sweet, a side of JJ you hadn’t seen since you were little kids. Since before you had burdens and before the world got scary. 

“More than okay,” you whisper back, utterly melting against him. When he kisses you again, you can feel him smile, and feel the dampness from his eyes on your cheeks.

JJ can’t believe that you’re kissing him back, and he wonders if he’s dreaming. When your hands shift into his hair, he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. It has to be fake.

Almost like you can read his mind, you pull back. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you assure.

His smile is so wide, you think it’ll get stuck like that. “You’re gonna have me around forever,” he says. “That’s a promise.”

“It better be, Maybank. I kinda like you.” You cuddle up against him, head on his chest, grinning profusely.

“I guess I really do have to tell John B you couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he jokes.

“Shush! You’re gonna ruin the moment!”

[nights-at-crystarium]

I feel like I hallucinated you drawing something DRK related once but I'm not sure. However given how you characterize Vivi I'm curious to know what you thought of the DRK quests 👀

I'm an Ishikawa fanboy, what else need I say x'D Though Vivi's got his own thing going on, it just happens to have a familiar flavor because he's entirely built up around ShB. When creating him I'd considered making him a DRK but a) entities living inside wol's head are fun but would only dilute the story I wanted to tell, and b) look at his noodle body, he couldn't even lift that massive-ass sword.

And no you didn't hallucinate that, I'm still musing about letting Raha become a lil more unhinged as a treat. Imagine the ShB logo but it's HIM. It becomes increasingly hard to resist.

[makeitmingi]

Stay In This Dream

Genre: Romance, Angst, Melancholy

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Normal!Reader, Badboy!Wooyoung

Summary: You know he's bad for you, he knows he's bad for you. But for some reason, you're both constantly drawn to each other. In a crazy world, you and him are forever, you don't need to save each other from reality. All you want to do is stay in this dream with him.

Word count: 4.3K

Story warning(s): Toxic relationship(? Not really, idk?), possessive Wooyoung, clubbing, smoking, swearing, alcohol, alcohol consumption, Ateez is a delinquent group. Minors DNI. Please read at your own discretion.

The music was booming loudly as you entered the club. You gulped, letting out a shaky breath before walking further in. Before joining the dancing bodies on the dance floor, you went to the bar to get a drink. Some liquid confidence will loosen you up.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked as you leaned against the bar counter.

"Rum and coke, three wedges of lime." You ordered your usual before sliding onto an available bar stool. With a kind smile, the bartender set down your drink on a serviette.

"Thanks." You bowed your head and he nodded back before going to serve other customers.

"I guess it's good to be home, Seoul." You smiled bitterly before lifting your glass to take a sip. A sigh escaped you as you put the glass down.

Looking to the side, you saw all the mingling people, women and men getting to know each other, having the time of their lives. Or maybe just trying to get laid.

Who were you kidding? This wasn't your scene, it never was. It was time for you to leave.

"Hey." Someone came up to you, his voice making you stiffen.

"I-I was just leaving." You said quickly as you looked away from him, lifting your drink to finish it. But he gently curled his fingers around your wrist to stop you from downing the rest of your drink. He made you put your glass down and wrapped his arms around you to hug you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Welcome back." He whispered.

"San..." You didn't know what to say to him and you couldn't hug him back. Even in the loud club, he was so close that you could hear his words. The way he hushed you to comfort you.

"When did you come back?" He asked as he pulled away. His face was calm, no sign of anger or upset.

"Yesterday." You gulped. He nodded, you were worried about what he was going to say or ask next. But all he did was pat your head and walk away.

"San, don't-" You called out to him but he was long gone, disappearing into the crowd. You looked at your drink, the bitterness that filled your mouth suddenly making it was unappealing.

"Hi, can I buy you a drink?" Now this was someone unfamiliar. You were never good with strangers, really.

"Are you here alone?" The male probed further.

"Yeah. But I buy my own drinks. I'm was gonna finish this up and leave." You said, grabbing your glass by the rim to swirl it, letting the diluted layer of melted ice mix into the rest of the drink. No one ever dared to really buy you drinks or flirt with you.

"Aww, come on... Okay, you know what? At least drink with me?" He tilted his head with a smile. His smile was charming, you would probably be swooned if you were preoccupied.

"Can you close me out?" You raised a hand to the bartender, who nodded from his end of the bar.

"Seriously, what's the rush?" He blinked.

"Take a hint and leave. Don't be to pushy, it's ugly." You froze at the new voice that entered the conversation. Your stomach churned uncomfortably and the heaviness settled in your chest.

"What? Who are you? I was here first, man." The man frowned unhappily.

"She's with me. What? You wanna take this outside?"

"Woo! Don't!" You blurted out, finding your voice again amongst the panic. Rolling his eyes with a scoff, the man walked away, you were obviously not worth fighting over.

"Tsk, coward... Close her out. Rum and coke with 3 lime wedges but put it on my tab." He told the bartender, who nodded and began making you a new drink. You couldn't even protest as he took the now available seat beside you. You waited for the bartender to put your drink down and walk away.

"You remember..." He raised an eyebrow, of course he remembered, he was always observant and remembered everything about you.

"I didn't want San to tell you." You chewed on your bottom lip.

"You really think I wouldn't have noticed you the moment you entered the place? San was just nosy and didn't know if it was really you. But I knew, I always know." He said.

"Woo, I-"

"Don't say you didn't come here to see me. You came here because you knew I would be here." He knew what you were going to say.

"Well, maybe I came here to get a partner for the night." You challenged, clenching the material of your skirt in your fist. Wooyoung turned to you, a deep frown at your words.

"You know I would never let that happen." He growled. That was Wooyoung, he was always possessive.

"Wooyoung, we're not even together anymore..." You lamented. He refused to answer that. But gosh, he looked good. His side profile as he drank his drink, he still looked so handsome. It made your heart clench as you forced yourself to tear your eyes away.

"And whose fault is that?" He finally replied. Although, the grim look on his face showed just how much he hated saying that. But Wooyoung was only ever truly open about his feelings with you.

Jung Wooyoung, the bad boy from high school. Him, along with his best friend, Choi San, were captains of the baseball team. Because that was the only thing he cared about.

And you. You were the only other thing Wooyoung cared about and loved. Nothing else.

You loved Wooyoung too, a lot. You never expected it but the bad boy tole your heart and showed you what love is.

However, you knew your relationship was just a fever dream that wouldn't last. The bubble of happiness that you and Wooyoung were in was not forever.

You wanted to do well in school and go to college to get a degree. Wooyoung didn't, if it weren't to stay with you and accompany you, he would have quit school a long time ago. He didn't have a plan, he wouldn't be there, sitting for college placement exams with you, he won't go be by your side to go to college with you.

But when an amazing overseas scholarship offer came in your mail, you knew you couldn't turn that down.

At first, the guilt ate at you, your future and love with Wooyoung should be the priority. But between him and his friends getting in trouble, the fighting, the street racing, you couldn't take it.

So, as you sat at the hospital waiting area, waiting for the doctor to stitch Wooyoung up again, you knew this wasn't the life for you.

3 days later, you ended the relationship with Wooyoung. And 4 days after that, you left for America.

"It wasn't my fault, Wooyoung..." You sighed, your bottom lip quivering. Was it really? You just wanted to do something for yourself, for once.

"I wasn't the one who packed up and left for 3 years." He said sourly, flicking the cap of his zippo open and close.

"It wasn't easy on me either. Not knowing if whether you would come home alive or dead. Having to bail you out of jail or wait for you at the hospital while doctors stitched you up." You winced as you remembered all the memories.

"Fine, I'm sorry I didn't have a plan to go to a cushy college like you. But I would never have abandoned you." He clenched his jaw.

"I didn't abandon you, Wooyoung." You replied. Honestly, you didn't know if you were convincing yourself or him.

"Oh yeah, you didn't. You just decided to pack your things, go to another country for 3 years without ever mentioning it to me." He said sarcastically.

"I did mention it to you." You mumbled.

"Yeah, when you broke up with me. And told me you're leaving in 4 days... Thanks for the heads up." He rolled his eyes.

"I didn't... I don't want to discuss this now." You said, looking away. Regret sunk in your heart.

"Then what do you want to discuss? Why did you come here?" Wooyoung placed his empty glass down and turned to face you. He's right, why did you come here? Why did a part of you hope to run into him? Just to see him again.

"You're right. This was a mistake." You got up to leave but Wooyoung grasped your wrist. Just as you were about to protest, Wooyoung dragged you to the dance floor.

"No, I'm not letting you walk away again." He made you put your arms around his neck as his hands landed on your waist.

"Like old times, hmm?" He pulled you close to him, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"I shouldn't be here." You said softly. You didn't know if you were saying that to yourself or to Wooyoung.

"And yet, you're still holding onto me." You knew he had that signature smug smirk on his face as he said that to you. In fact, your hold tightened around him, as if you were scared of him leaving.

You closed your eyes, this used to be your life with Wooyoung. Coming to the club, drinking, dancing, having the time of your lives. How bad boy Wooyoung ruined you.

"Wooyoung..." You whimpered. Wooyoung finally pulled away from the hugging hold to look at you. It was dim but he could see you faintly under the club's lights. As you closed your eyes, he was quick to wipe away the tears that fell. He held your cheek tenderly and kissed your forehead.

"Let's go." Holding your hand, instead of grasping it like earlier, he led you out of the club through the back door. You just followed him without a word. He guided you through the alley.

"Come here." He hugged you, guiding your head to his chest. You buried your face in his chest.

"It's okay, baby." His hand stroked the back of your head.

"You're home. That's all that matters, you're back here with me." You didn't know if his reminder was meant to bring you relief or more hurt, knowing that this isn't right.

That familiarity made your heart soar, it was what you longed for for 3 years. His warmth, his scent, his voice.

"I love you, I'll never let you go again." He kissed your head.

You closed your eyes, even if this was only temporary, even if this was only a dream, you didn't want it to end. This was why you came here the moment you came back to Seoul.

As you laid down to rest in his bed, fast asleep, Wooyoung pulled the blanket up to make sure you were comfortable. You were so deep in your slumber you weren't affected by him moving. You were dressed in his shirt and your underwear. It's like you never left.

"I love you." He kissed your temple and left the room, closing the door behind him. Wooyoung shuffled over to the balcony, sliding open the glass door.

Leaning his forearms on the banister, he lit a cigarette and stared out into the night sky that blanketed the city.

"Need a drink?" San offered with his head poked out, holding out a glass of rum.

"Thanks. I just need to clear my head for a bit." Wooyoung recevied the glass and took a sip, setting it down on the small table as he continued his cigarette.

"(y/n)?"

"She's sleeping in my bed so don't be too loud. You know she's a light sleeper." Wooyoung cautioned.

"Will do." San saluted and headed in for the night. He was used to you sleeping over. Even when you and him were dating, San and Wooyoung lived together. That's why Wooyoung was always over at your house. He had clothes and other personal effects there. It was like he practically moved in with you.

Did he ever think that you would be lying in his bed 3 years later? At some point, yes. A part of him held onto the hope that you would return to Seoul, return to him.

That hope vanished when Wooyoung went to America to find you. He had asked a friend where you were before he flew there.

But Wooyoung saw you so happy, being amongst your new friends, discussing things with your professor.

You had a bright future ahead of you while Wooyoung's was bleak. Who was he to rob you of that? If he loved you, he knew he had to let you go.

Wooyoung flew back before you even knew he was there. He tried to push you to the back of his mind and continue on with life.

But he should have known that the universe will take him for a spin. Because there you were tonight, entering the club, looking as beautiful as ever, going up to the bar for a drink.

You were always insecure about sticking out like a sore thumb, whether it was the clubs, the illegal race tracks or the fighting ring. But to Wooyoung, that just made him love you more. You weren't just another face in the crowd.

Whenever Wooyoung looked at you, he smiled. You lit up the room, you were kind and friendly to everyone you met.

You were different from him. He, San and his friends, ATEEZ, ruled the school (and now the streets) with violence, he always had his bat resting on his shoulder, sending threats to those who stare for too long.

"God..." Wooyoung let out a sigh of frustration, leaning on the heels of his palms.

He loves you so much that it hurts. Even though he knows you're better off without him, he doesn't want to let you go. You belong with him.

"Tsk." Crushing his cigarette, Wooyoung downed the rest of his rum and headed back into house. As he crossed his living room, he looked at his steel bat that rested in the corner.

Wooyoung closed his eyes, his focus was you now. He shook his head and went to the room.

"Don't leave me again. I'll protect you, I promise. I'll give you anything you want." Wooyoung gathered you in his arms, holding you close to him like his life depended on it. He knew if you were awake, you would push him away. When you were together, you always hated when he came to bed smelling like cigarettes and alcohol.

"Just let me be selfish." He pressed his lips to your head and closed his eyes. If he was imagining this and it was all just a hallucinating dream, Wooyoung didn't want to wake up.

When you woke up, Wooyoung was sound asleep, facing you with his arm slung over your waist.

A part of you still believed this to be a dream. You reached over to rest your hand on his cheek, making him snuggle into his pillow.

You didn't deserve this, anyone would tell you that.

You didn't deserve to live in fear and dread that Wooyoung would be dead one day. But at the same time, you also didn't deserve the kindness and love Wooyoung gave you when you were the one that left.

It made you sick to your stomach, the way you were acting. Wooyoung didn't deserve to be treated like that. What were you thinking? Running back here.

Slipping out of bed, you reached for a pair of Wooyoung's sweat shorts that he left on the chair. You slipped it on, tying the string around your waist. It's too cruel for you to leave him again, especially while he sleeps. But you needed to remove yourself for now.

"Hey, (y/n)." San greeted when you tip toed out of Wooyoung's room.

"Hey, San..." You greeted warily, standing by Wooyoung's bedroom door. What was he going to say to you? Was he going to berate you for what you did/ are doing to his best friend?

"I'm headed out for the day. I left breakfast on the table for you and Woo, when he wakes up." He said, picking his jacket up to wear.

"Sure, thank you." You nodded, walking down the hall to where he was.

"There's coffee in the fridge too. Help yourself." He informed as he jogged to his room to gather what he needed. You heard the jingling of his keys.

"Hey, (y/n)?" San called out to you just as he was about to step out of the house. You hummed, turning to look at him.

"Talk to him, please. I'm not forcing you to stay, I understand why you left but... Please don't leave without talking to him first." He said. You chewed on your bottom lip but nodded your head. Even if he said understood, his words made you feel like the bad guy. You probably were but it hurt for it to be vocalised.

"You want a cigarette to relax?" He offered, about to reach into his pocket to grab his pack.

"No, thanks. I quit smoking..." You smiled awkwardly. San almost seemed content and proud by your words as he nodded.

"Bye, San." You wished. He smiled and came over to give you brief hug before leaving the house. Maybe that's why San is leaving, to give you space and privacy to talk to Wooyoung.

As you waited for Wooyoung to wake up, you sat in their apartment balcony, wanting some fresh air. You noticed that Wooyoung left his zippo on the table.

*clink*

You flicked open the cap then closed it. Wooyoung always did this when he was nervous or deep in thought.

It became a habit that you picked up too. That and other habits like smoking. But when you did, it was a social thing. You never smoked unless you were around Wooyoung and his friends. How long you were sitting there, you didn't know.

"Hey." Wooyoung shuffled out onto the balcony, an unlit cigarette hanging out of his lips.

"There it is." He naturally leaned down and almost mechanical, you used his zippo to light the cigarette for him. Before he took a puff, he held the lit cigarette between his fingers, away for you.

"You're still here." He brushed your hair back with his free hand. You nodded your head and he smiled, giving you a peck.

"Do you want eat? San left us food but I just grabbed coffee..." You asked.

"Still the same. I'll eat in a bit." He sat on the chair instead of next to you on the bench. You both always had coffee before anything else, a bad habit. Wooyoung pulled the cigarette away again.

"Want to share?" He offered, just like old times.

"I quit..." You mumbled. He nodded with a hum, making sure to blow the smoke out in the other direction.

With a soft sigh, Wooyoung puts out his cigarette. He came to sit next to you on the bench, putting an arm around you. Again, another almost natural reaction, you lean into him, tucking yourself under his arm. Your cheek pressed against his pec as he held you. You did this with him regularly.

Sitting out here, watching the city go by, watching the sun set and the sun rise again, enjoying ths bliss of your little bubble. Until the weight of reality popped it.

Dread sunk in your stomach, you needed to talk to Wooyoung but what about? You didn't have time to think this through.

"So, what degree did you decide to pursue?" He broke the silence first. He woke up from the dream first.

"International relations." You replied, fiddling with the stray thread at the end of his sweater. It was the only thing that kept your mind focused on Wooyoung's words.

"Did you like it there?" He asked with a gulp.

"It was fine." You didn't really give a yes or no answer because you didn't know.

Your life in America was so different. You were able to dedicate yourselves to your studies, earning your degree and subsequently becoming valedictorian. That allowed you to form good connections and networks. The only thing missing was Wooyoung.

"Would you have stayed there?" At your question, you pulled away. This was him waking you up from the dream too. Wooyoung watched as you stood up and headed to the banister.

"Wooyoung, it wasn't easy to leave you. I swear. I know I'm selfish but for once, I needed to think about myself and my future." You said.

"A future without me in it?" At his question, you swallowed. That lump in your throat was back.

"Woo, with the way things were going, even if we stayed together, I wasn't sure whether you would still be in it." You turned to look at him, tears swimming in your eyes.

"I had to save myself the grief before it actually came through a phone call. It would be too much..." You whispered.

"But I'm still alive and kicking." Wooyoung argued.

"For how much longer? Mingi was almost paralysed, Jongho was in a coma for 4 months, I wasn't going to stick around and wait for any of that to happen to you. I couldn't..." Your bottom lip quivered in fear.

"You know I wouldn't be careless like that. Damn it. I love you, I still do. You know I'll always come home to you." Wooyoung grimaced. Your words cut deep into Wooyoung, he knew the truth was that he drove you away with how he was acting. With the way he lived, he couldn't save you from the fear and worry.

"I know you love me too, that's why you went to the club the moment you arrived in Seoul. To find me. And don't deny that." He stood up.

"I thought I could move on and build a life for myself, start anew. But who am I kidding? I can't do it." You laughed bitterly.

"There were so many times I wanted to leave America and come back home. Come back to you. You were my home." You revealed. Wooyoung's heart was racing as he heard your words.

"Why didn't you? I was waiting for you. I am still your home." He asked.

"Because I knew I didn't deserve to miss you when I was the one who left. What right did I have? And what if you moved on? I don't think I could bear to see that." You shook your head. For 3 years, you hated yourself for missing him.

"No, I would never. Because we both know you belong with me and me only." Wooyoung insisted with a frown.

"I-I don't know if I can live like this again, Woo." You hugged yourself. Now it really sunk in, you felt so lonely and that was the reality that you have to wake up to.

"I want to let you go because I know you're better off out there but fuck, I can't. I can't, I'm sorry. I need you with me." He held your cheeks with his hands, pressing your forehead against him.

"Our lives are just too different. Sometimes, even love cannot conquer that." You shook your head.

"Don't say that. Don't. I refuse to believe any of that bullshit." Wooyoung denied.

"You'll carry on with your life and I'll carry on with mine. A part of love is worrying about each other. We'll always do that." He said, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Wooyoung loved you but he loved ATEEZ too, he couldn't just leave his friends who have support him. They were delinquents to everyone else but to Wooyoung, they were his family too.

Again, it was selfish of him, he knew that.

"But..." You grew hesitant, almost scared at the thought of going through all that again.

"We'll work this out, I promise. But whatever it is, I'm not letting you leave me again. You're mine. I lost you once, I'm never losing you again. We'll get through this." Wooyoung said with determination. You nodded and leaned forward to hug him, pressing your lips against his. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

"I love you, Woo. I'm so sorry." You cried. How was he so understanding and patient? But if Wooyoung could work through this, you knew you could too.

"Shh, my baby. No more 'sorry's. I still love you and forever will." He held you, stroking your head.

After breakfast, you and Wooyoung decided to just stay in bed to quietly spend time with one another, all the time lost. He grabbed your leg to throw it over his waist so he could hold you close.

"Still so beautiful." He smiled cheekily.

"Stop~" You whined, hiding your face in his chest. He laughed loudly, that also didn't change, his laugh was so distinguishable that his friends always made fun of it.

"I still love your laugh." You giggled, making him roll his eyes, unsure if you were teasing him or not.

"Seonghwa hyung still imitates me." He scoffed.

"It's cute." You pinched his cheek.

As he cradled you and you bunched the material of his shirt in your hands, it sunk in that you were here, lying in bed with Wooyoung, holding him and touching him. You felt whole again and there was a happiness you haven't felt in 3 years.

Was your love for Wooyoung able to convince you to go back to the way things were? You didn't know. But that worry and the many others can be left for tomorrow.

Wooyoung will be with you, you'll overcome it together. You wanted to enjoy what you had with him now. You didn't want it to disappear.

If this was a dream, you knew you never wanted to wake up.

~

Masterlist