#everyone did such a great job ♥

[spiderbeam]

FC43: CONSEJOS DE AMOR

pairing: haas driver!reader x franco colapinto

summary: you’ve been friends with franco for a long time. but after a post-race interview clip of the two of you starts making rounds on social media, things might not be as clear cut as they seem.

a/n: first smau !! lmk if u enjoy this <3

liked by haasf1team, francolapinto, and 202,378 others

ynracing it was a tough race and i gave it my all. feeling immensely happy with that p10! now it’s time to regroup and prepare for baku. congrats to charles for the win and franco for his debut! grazie mille monza! 🇮🇹

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user1 haas domination could bore fans 🥱

user2 🫶🫶

user3 this might just be the first good news haas has gotten in a WHILE

user4 oh definitely

user5 don’t you love it when women

haasf1team onwards for more points! 👏

user6 @haasf1team girl aren’t you like 7 million dollars in debt 😭

user7 @haasf1team your other driver is literally banned from the next race

user8 @haasf1team didn’t you get your assets seized like last week

user9 @haasf1team i’m gonna hold your hand when i say this….

user11 everyone dragging haas in the comments 😭😭

kevinmagnussen great job there 👏👏 well-deserved ♥︎ liked by ynracing

user12 WOHOOO P10 BABYY

francolapinto VAMOSS sos una genia!!!!!!

ynracing idk what that means BUT I’LL TAKE IT 🫶

user13 @/mercedesamgf1 she’s single you know ♥︎ liked by francolapinto

user13 not the point i was trying to make but HOLD ON

user14 SCREAMING ariana what are you doing here

user15 😎🤏 🤨🕶️🤏

user16 can we talk about franco and y/n racing together again after all this time?? we used to pray for times like these 🤲🤲

user17 franco read she’s single and all the pr training left his body 😭

user18 was there really any pr training to begin with?

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liked by ynracing, williamsracing and 521,091 others

francolapinto que día inolvidable. lo que disfruté mi primera carrera en f1 no les puedo explicar!! hay que seguir trabajando… pero no se dan cuenta de lo que me duele el cuerpo 🫠

what an unforgettable day. i can’t explain how much i enjoyed my first race in f1!! time to keep working… but you’ve got no idea how much my body hurts 🫠

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user18 GRANDE FRANQUITOOO

ynracing congrats fran!!!!!! what a great way to start off 🩵 estoy muy orgullosa de ti ♥︎ liked by francolapinto

francolapinto JAJA did you google translate that?

ynracing ………no

user19 i love argentina, it looks like such a great country with amazing drivers. greetings from argentina

williamsracing 👏👏👏

user20 @wiIIiamsracing OUT you’re not allowed to celebrate with us 👉🚪

user21 oh no he’s endeared himself to me what now

user22 🇦🇷👏

user23 the utter lack of pr training of this man during the interviews had me screaming

user24 GREAT JOB FRANCO

user25 why am i growing attached to a driver that will only be here for 9 races 😭

user26 wait i think i love him i fear

user27 are we just all gonna fake dementia over that post race interview or………

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liked by francolapinto, carlossainz55 and 301,091 others

ynracing this idiot should’ve known flowers are much more effective

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user35 OH MY GOD

user36 NO WAY NO WAY SAY SIKE RN

user37 somebody SEDATE ME

carlossainz55 this idiot should’ve opened google translate before

ynracing OUT 🫵🚪

user38 does this make franco a wag

user39 i mean………

francolapinto yes :)

user40 TRULY INSANE BEHAVIOR

francolapinto si igual te encanta cuando hablo español (you still love it when i speak spanish)

ynracing yes i do ☺️

landonorris @ynracing 🫵 SIMP

user41 NO WAY THIS ACTUALLY WORKED FOR HIM 😭😭

user42 he has too much charm someone has to put him down

francolapinto what

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liked by ynracing, bizarrap, landonorris and 411,450 others

francolapinto dijo que si 😇 (she said yes)

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user42 does this make fernando alonso a multi-millionaire match maker

user43 THE HAND PLACEMENT

user44 OH WE’VE BEEN PRAYING FOR TIMES LIKE THESE 🤧🤧🤧

user45 y/n amiga ya sos argentina 🙂‍↕️🧉

user46 ABOUT DAMN TIME

user47 🫶🫶🫶

user48 what a time to ALIVE 😍

ynracing awww do you like have a crush on me or something

francolapinto we’re literally holding hands right now

ynracing i know 🥰 te quiero corazón

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a/n: social media aus take SO LONG to make oh my god?? why did i think this would be easy. i feel this is good for a first attempt though? also i hope none of the spanish comes off as cringey….. i very much had forgotten how much second hand embarrassment it gives me to use petnames in spanish (read: spanish is my first language)

i hope you enjoyed!!!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

[xinfinityl0ve17]

MANA-SAMA.NET

Twelve hours during a part-time job feels so long, especially at night; it’s almost terrifyingly long.

Mana chan kept shouting, “This theme is difficult!” and Kami kun kept asking, “Mana chan, don’t you have anything?” (laughs). It seems these two aren’t very bound by numbers...

Anyway, Mana chan’s part time job era... It’s full of valuable stories!! Hehe ♥

MALICE MIZER

--So, the theme is "The Fear of Numbers."

Mana: Hmm... That's difficult.

Kami: Haven't you ever noticed when the numbers on a clock are all the same? Like when you look at the time and it's 11:11?

--Does that give you an eerie feeling?

Kami: No, I'm actually happy (laughs). Also, when I'm talking on the phone at night and I look at the clock, it's always 2:14 AM (laughs). It's the witching hour (laughs). And it happens almost every day.

--Do you have any thoughts, Mana?

Mana: Hmm... (laughs) This theme is tough... Hmm...

Kami: Also, I have an obsession with lining up the number 7. I used to go to pachinko parlors a lot, so getting 7s was a thrill (laughs). Ah, that's not scary at all (laughs).

Mana, do you have anything?

Mana: Hmm... When I was a boy, I was a bicycle enthusiast. I even had a speedometer, and it only went up to about 60 kilometers, I think. I was obsessed with maxing it out.

Kami: That's the fear of speed.

Mana: Yeah, I was pushing the limits of speed. The bike I had wasn't a Roadman, but it was a sports-type with gears and semi-drop handlebars... You don't see them much nowadays.

Kami: They were popular back then. The ones with the light on the side.

Mana: The more gear shifts, the better. Five-speed was common, but with six-speed, it was like, "One more gear!" (laughs).

Kami: Speaking of numbers, I save 500 yen coins (laughs). Last year, a friend gave me a piggy bank that can hold up to 300,000 yen, and I'm close to reaching the goal. How long did it take you to save?

Kami: One year! When I talked about it, a fan once sent me a 500 yen coin in a letter (laughs).

Mana: Really? Well, I’m saving 10,000 yen bills (laughs).

Kami: So I make sure not to spend any 500 yen coins. Even when I shop, I make sure to get change in 500 yen coins, or I exchange five 100 yen coins for a 500 yen coin at the convenience store (laughs). Mana, do you have anything else?

Mana: Hmm...

--Like the fear of having to wake up in the morning?

Mana: Oh, even if I have work early the next morning, I stay up until around 5 AM, so I do get that "Oh no, it's already this late" feeling, but that’s why I always sleep in the car during travel.

Kami: Because we’re so busy, sleeping in the car becomes something to look forward to.

Mana: Yeah, it's really enjoyable (laughs).

Kami: It's almost like that's what keeps me going (laughs).

Mana: Yeah, but during our indie days, I was the one who drove.

Mana: I was the designated driver (laughs). Back then, mornings were terrifying. I had to wake everyone up by phone.

--Did you wake up all the members?

Mana: Yes, I’d call them to wake them up and then go around picking them up in the car. That was really something. It was like hell; I did it while crying (laughs). There were members who wouldn’t wake up no matter how many times I called (I wonder who?). And there were people whose phones wouldn’t even connect (laughs).

Kami: By the way, I’m never late. Unless I’m stuck in traffic or something, I always arrive on time when we have a meeting. Mana, do you have anything else? (laughs)

Mana: Ah! The fear of numbers! I used to work part-time at a rental video store, but when the sales weren’t great, I’d rent out videos myself.

-- Really? Were you in a position of responsibility?

Mana: There were morning and night shifts, and I was the manager for the morning shift, so if the morning sales were bad, it was my responsibility. When no customers came, I would wander around the front of the store, getting anxious (laughs).

-- Well, you can’t exactly solicit customers at a rental video store (laughs).

Mana: Exactly. You can’t just say, "We’ve got good videos here!" So all I could do was wander around (laughs).

Kami: I just thought of something! The fear of numbers! In the band I was in before Malice Mizer, the current drummer and I were born in the same year and on the same day. It was terrifying (laughs).

Mana: I just thought of something else too (laughs). I used to work a part-time job inspecting cups at a factory. That factory had cups endlessly going around 24/7 (laughs). I worked 12-hour shifts there, but since the cups were constantly moving on the conveyor belt, there was no end to it. It was terrifying. Plus, it had a roof but no doors, so in the winter, the cold north wind would blow in while I just watched the cups… (laughs).

--That sounds like a tough job.

Mana: It was tough. It was torture (laughs). Nowadays, even if your hair is dyed, it’s socially accepted, but back then, if you had a part-time job, it was limited to handing out tissues or working in a factory (laughs).

Kami: Yeah, or working for a delivery service.

Mana: "Yeah, like at those places where the packages come down on conveyor belts (laughs). I was once in charge of handling packages going to Tokyo, and while other people only had a few packages coming their way and were taking it easy, I was getting a constant stream of packages (laughs)."

Kami: "Even now, when I see the baggage counter at the airport, it reminds me of those days (laughs). Those 12-hour shifts felt so long, especially the night shifts—they were terrifyingly long."

Mana: "Yeah, yeah, and for 12 hours, the cups kept coming endlessly. By the end, I was even seeing hallucinations (laughs)."

The end // From Vicious Magazine

[yandere-sins]

Hello! Im fairly new to COD and I have really enjoyed your works so far. Was curious if you could share headcanons on a darling being shared between Ghost and Soap? Like maybe their darling is the new fresh faced rookie to their task force that they taken a real shine to, and are perhaps just a little too fond of them

I gotcha! Thank you for your request ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««      

♡ It all starts with an awful habit of these two: staring. Constantly. Annoyingly. Even when you are on a mission, you can feel their eyes drilling into your back, burning their mark into your skin and bones with their gaze. Ghost is, well, a ghost. You never catch him looking at you, but you feel his eyes and his breath down your neck even when you're in the field. No one is behind you, but your enemies fall before they can get close enough to shoot you. When you ask him not to coddle you as much, you see his mask scrunch up a little around his lips like a smirk. Soap isn't as subtle. He looks and gets stuck on a part of you, one at a time. Your lips, your hands, the crook of your neck when you wear a shirt with a neckline. Soap merely locks onto the spot, his gaze like a dagger dragging over your flesh, intrusive and possessive. Still, even if called out, he only laughs it off, saying he was in thoughts before finding another place on your body to fantasize about.

♡ They are quite infuriating, but as your captain and lieutenant, who are you to go against them? They might be odd, but they must have seen more gruesome things that messed up minds than you did in your life, so it might be understandable their behavior isn't always top-notch. Then again, things become weirder when you notice their presence being everywhere you go. For some reason, their quarters have been arranged on either side of yours. They stroll into the community rooms just moments after you. And as you stand in the shower, scrubbing off the dirt from the day, you suddenly hear Soap ask to borrow your body wash from the next cubicle, passing the bottle forward to Ghost by throwing it over your head. There's an increasingly worrisome proximity between the three of you that has you looking over your shoulder for not only enemies but allies as well.

♡ It has its perks, too. Not everything is just bad. You always get to do missions with either of them, being able to watch and follow the command of someone who knows what they are doing. There's no question that if they say jump, you jump, and it's good to know you have someone reliable to cover your back. And the compliments, oh boy. You watch how they treat the others, the usual jokes and digs at each other, but to you, they seem warmer. Tell you when you did a good job, invite you to train with them and help you improve. They even let you win sometimes (and you know they lose on purpose, but it does feel really good to slam them to the ground). Ghost purrs his "Well done, Rookie" and "Nice shot" into your ear, goosebumps distracting your aim, which he so likes to correct with his body pressed against yours. And Soap always greets you cheerily, telling you how good the mission was thanks to you and how he loves working with you. He puts his arm around you while telling everyone how great you were, and when the harder times hit, he's there as your captain to console you and help you get through it however you need.

♡ But then there are other times... like the ones when you think you're still dreaming a bizarre dream, opening your eyes to find them standing next to your bed, watching you silently, staring. You ask them what's wrong, but Soap hushes you, gently stroking your head until you fall asleep, Ghost grumbling next to you as if he disapproves of the closeness between you two. They're still working on sorting out this relationship by the time they show concerning amounts of possessiveness over you and aggression to everyone that gets close to you. Soap won't let anyone belittle you, not even as a joke. He's also pulling you from field operations, much to your chagrin. All while Ghost becomes your shadow, on minor missions as well as the base. He's too good to be stuck with your rookie tasks, but he comes along regardless. Soap also does, but while Ghost towers behind you on every step you make, Soap carves the way you're allowed to walk, parting the crowds of other people like your friends and teammates and isolating you.

♡ It's not a comfortable way of living and doing your job anymore. As much as you don't want to leave the trust and companionship you already built, you realize you don't have the future you want with those two around. You don't even tell them you applied for a transfer. They learn it through the grapevine. For a few days, those two just angrily scowl when you meet them around the base (or, in Ghost's case, hit you with a contempt stare). But even these weird days pass, and on your last day, with your bags packed, you visit them to at least say goodbye and thank them for all they taught you. To your surprise, you find them in some storeroom together and feel bad for interrupting their conversation. But their eyes snap to you the moment you step inside, so you try to make it quick and less awkward. As a last attempt of reconciliation, you shake their hands, first Soap's, then Ghost's. However, as you try to move away, Ghost grabs you by the wrist, and it's nothing like your little training quarrels. It's bone-crushing, painful, and impossible to wring yourself out of. You never had a real chance against them, and you knew it, but the way they acted made you believe they were good people deep down in their mad minds. Oh, how wrong you were... As Soap steps up behind you, pressing a cloth to your face with a putrid smell, the last thing you hear is, "Can't let you leave us like this, Darlin'," before you pass out, strong arms wrapping around you as they carry you off to a container they have prepared for you. Somewhere you won't be easily found until it is way too late to return to your normal life.

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: I know this trope is overdone, but, I wanted to do it a little... idk, different, I suppose. I've never written Joe like this either, so we'll see how this is going to go. This is part one (of five, you know me) and I hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 2.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

Oh no.

Joe was going to royally fuck everything up. There was no question about it. You were one hundred per cent absolutely convinced that Joe was going to do a bad job. So, so bad. The flat out worst, actually.

Joe hadn’t the faintest idea of where to begin, of how to go about it, of what it all entailed.

It made you feel a little superior, which was nice. This felt like a competition you were going to win, even though you understood none of this was meant to be competitive. In fact, it would actually be considered to be bad taste and maybe a little tacky to even pretend like it was a fight for you to win, but you couldn’t help it.

“Are you sure, Poppy... I don’t want to, like, but... are you sure? Joe?”

Poppy laughed, said, “He’ll do fine,” and Mark followed up by slapping a firm palm to his shoulder, saying, “He’ll figure it out, just like you will,”

“Oh no need to worry about me, I got this,” and you couldn’t help but look at Joe, sharp and focussed. Almost challenging, in a way, but you meant it jokingly. Hoped that maybe Joe would soften a little because he never really seemed to let his guard down. Not around you, anyway.

But Joe just shrugged, kept his face entirely neutral, and your jokes fell flat which immediately made everyone feel awkwardly tense.

It wasn’t a huge secret that you and Joe didn’t really get along all that great, but Jesus, could this man be any stiffer in this moment of joy? This evening of good news and important questions and celebrations? The inner peacekeeper within you couldn’t stand it. You just wanted everyone to get along and be on the same page, but the distance Joe somehow seemed to really force in between you kind of ruined all of that every single time that you’d all hang out together.

When you’d be in larger companies, it’d be easy. You could stay at opposite ends of the room and sort of ignore each other. You’d say hi, you’d be cordial and polite, but you just... weren’t each other’s people. Which made no sense. Mark was your best friend and his fiancé Poppy had naturally become such a good friend of yours too, so why was her best friend this... big old awkward weirdo?

What a stupid way to end the evening, and one that started so blissfully pleasant. When you’d walked into Mark and Poppy’s place around dinner time, you could’ve never predicted the outcome of it all. Though, in hindsight, you didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it, because it made total sense. It really did. Mark and Poppy were going to tell their families about this, and you knew they wouldn’t ask any questions because, this obviously was inevitably going to be the way it was going to go.

“Won’t Poppy be joining us?” you let your coat slide from your shoulders before you hung it over the back of a dining chair as you looked around the place. The table was set for two, not three.

“Pop’s taken Joe out for a meal,” Mark said from the kitchen, and you felt a little guilty at the little marble of relief that reared its little head up. You loved Poppy, honestly you did. She was the perfect girl for Mark, they were the perfect couple. Two peas in a pod. Fucking gorgeous and so, so sweet... but you were too alike in all the wrong ways. Both unbelievably stubborn and potentially hot-headed in the wrong moments, so sometimes you’d butt heads with each other. You held strong opinions and there would be times where you’d find yourselves at the exact opposite ends of a spectrum, willing to die in the battle of trying to convince the other that you had it at the right end.

There had been many nights where you would practically be screaming over the kitchen table about something so fantastically meaningless with Mark in between you, silently eating his meal, not even really paying attention to what either of you were going on about.

Mark sort of loved it. Loved you. But really loved Poppy. Said he found the version of you that wanted to sleep with him which he claimed was all he’d ever wanted. That always made you cringe; made you tell him to fuck off and stop pretending that you weren’t practically siblings at this point.

Having dinner with just Mark at their place wasn’t what you’d expected when Mark had invited you ‘round, but it was so welcome.

Whenever it was you and Mark by yourselves, you’d start the evening like the adults you were, would complain about work, talk about all sorts of civilized things, have a glass or sensible slightly more expensive wine, and ask how each other’s parents were doing.

But by the end of the night, you’d feel like you were 17 at a house party where the one 18-year-old brought a bunch of shitty piss-coloured liquor, room temp cider in plastic 2 litre bottles and blue WKD that would leave everyone’s mouth stained. There’d be an urge to fucking trash the place like the place didn’t actually belong to either one of you, and you’d rummage through kitchen cabinets to make stupid meals at midnight after whatever vegan bullshit Mark cooked up for dinner that hadn’t filled you properly. Suddenly, Mark would forget he hadn’t eaten meat in years and go for a kebab with you.

You loved those nights.

Poppy hated those nights, because that was the Mark she didn’t know or understand. She’d find you both drunk of your tits, flinging Wii remotes dangerously close to expensive furniture pieces (where the fuck did you even find a Wii, Mark?!) grunting like you were the Williams sisters playing Wembley.

Whenever Poppy would try to tell Mark off for sort of letting go for a hot second, Mark would throw it right back in her face and go, “Pop, go have your fancy martinis with Joe – go eat a million oysters with him, us peasants here will be fine with our grey meats and questionable white sauce,” and you’d go, “Ew, shut up,” and apologise to Poppy through a mouthful of cheap fast food, and Mark would be giggling like a little school girl.

Poppy didn’t like that version of Mark, but that was the Mark that you loved and even though you knew this evening was just meant to be a quick catch-up on a work-night, you hoped you’d get to see at least a little of your Mark.

"She's taken him to Bob Bob Ricard to ask him an important question," Mark said as he set down filled plates full of beautiful colourful vegetables that honestly smelled amazing.

"I thought you guys were already engaged? You know, to each other?" you joked and made Mark snort.

"It's got to do with that though,"

"Oh no, is this, are you going to become a throuple? God," you slumped your shoulders. "I should've totally seen this coming," and before you could carry on Mark punched you in the arm with far too much force.

"No, you dick, she's asking him to be her maid of honour... sort of, but like, man of honour, I guess,"

"Oh my God," you pouted because honestly, that was kind of adorable. "Will he be, like, her little pageboy?"

You envisioned Joe in tails walking behind Poppy down the isle, holding the train of her dress or whatever pageboys actually did at weddings.

"Little more sophisticated than that, I think," Mark said before raising his full wine glass, prompting you to raise yours too.

"And you're here because I have a question for you too,"

Your eyes grew as you bit your lips slowly into your mouth when you realised where this was going.

"Oh... oh fuck, Mark, wait, this is a big deal," you put your glass down and jokingly fanned your face with your hands.

"Yes. Now, shut the fuck up and let me actually ask it,"

"No, what about your brother?" you interjected.

"My brother's a lazy sod who is not to be trusted,"

"He's going to murder me,"

"He won't," Mark grew more and more annoyed as you stalled him.

"He absolutely will,"

"Would you just..." Mark sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Let me please just fucking ask the question, all right? Jesus,"

You shuffled in your seat and sat up, batted your eyelashes and pursed your lips into a smile because this really was a big moment.

"Will you," Mark started, and then paused for a second before he finished, "be my best man - woman... person?"

"Oh my God. Yes."

You cheersed and just, couldn't stop cackling for a moment. What a bizarre moment in your friendship, it was all kinds of fantastic and lovely and so weird. You loved it.

You questioned what it even really meant to be someone's best man, and over dinner you both googled all the things that best men usually did. For the groom, but also, for the whole wedding. You were to give a speech, would look after the wedding rings, would have to make sure all the groomsmen - and obviously the groom himself - were all dressed and ready in time for the actual ceremony and, last but not least... the stag do.

You were so up for the job.

Deep diving into this project was the perfect distraction from the mundane boring structured routine your life had fallen into.

Halfway through dinner Mark received a text from Poppy, saying that Joe had said yes. She sent a picture of Joe with a cute pursed smile and crinkly eyes, holding up a beautiful blush pink card that read the question, "Will you be my Honour Attendant?" in one hand, and a flute of bubbly champagne in the other.

"Oh," you frowned at your friend. "Why didn't I get a fancy card? Or a fancy dinner?"

Mark put his phone down and and shrugged, just said, "That's not our style," and dismissed you completely.

It was the beginning of what started with you dramatically exclaiming, "Do I not deserve a little luxury?" and ended with you doing tequila shots by the sink in the kitchen.

Yea, Mark was right. This was more your style.

It was just after 10 when the front door opened and Poppy walked in, closely followed by Joe.

A small moment of heys and hellos, followed, and then welcome-home kisses from Mark and Poppy, and slightly awkward eye-contact between you and Joe.

Joe looked sort of stupidly well put together. All polished. He looked wildly overdressed next to you, and it made you feel like a slob. And you knew you were older, not by much, but you were definitely older than Joe was, which really should mean something, but Joe was taller, and definitely richer, and... all of it made you feel like a child.

"You're gonna be Mark's maid of honour?" Poppy squealed, all excited, practically bouncing on her feet after she'd hugged you.

"Nope," you smiled widely, "You're looking at Mark's best man,"

Poppy grinned and shot eyes towards Joe.

"See? I told you. You kind of have to go by Maid of Honour," and Joe laughed before scrunching up his nose in defeated, going, "Yea, well..." and you saw Joe look at his best friend and just turn so incredibly soft for her. Like she was the only good thing in his life, like he truly, really truly, loved her with all his might.

It was almost disgustingly sweet, and you wondered if there was ever going to be a line Joe could cross with Mark.

You could easily cross the line with Poppy. You would never forget the look in her eye when you'd fallen asleep on Mark and he'd just hugged you for a little bit. It was the hard way to learn that Poppy was a normal person with normal boundaries and you totally understood. Of course. You wouldn't want anyone just falling asleep on your boyfriend - not that you had one - either.

But when it came to Mark, he was just very.... whatever, about Joe.

You were so sure that, if Poppy were to fall asleep in Joe's arms, and Joe would cuddle her for a second, Mark would just be like, "Are you having a good nap, babe?"

Sometimes Joe would invite Poppy to go to insane award shows over seas and Mark wouldn't even care that they'd share a hotel room.

Mark was made of trust. It was a little wild, you thought. Especially when, look! Look at those eyes! Look at what Joe's eyes were doing! He was literally turning into a puddle in front of everyone as he looked at his best friend.

"Fine, I guess," Joe comically rolled his eyes at his new title. Maid of Honour Joe Quinn, who hadn't yet taken his coat off which was weird because you were all stood around the kitchen island and he was still in his coat. What a way to keep the yea-I-don't-want-to-be-here vibes alive. Felt real great, this.

The defeated acceptance of Joe to whatever was happening made you jokingly ask Poppy if she was sure having Joe as her maid of honour was the best idea.

The joke had fallen flat, but Poppy erased it immediately by clapping her hands together right in front of her face, all erratic and excited, her grin quite literally splitting her whole face open.

"Oh my God, it's gonna be so fun," Poppy predicted as she shook tensed fists in celebration and you couldn't help but smile at her.

"It's brilliant actually, you won't need to worry about the stag do at all, I'm sorry, but Mark, I won't be taking you to a strip club,"

Joe scoffed loudly, which... rubbed you a little wrong. Mark however, was about to argue you on it.

"I will, however" you quickly added as you laid a hand on Mark's shoulder, "get you so unbelievably wankered, you won't even fucking remember if we went to one in the first place," and that got him laughing loudly, head thrown back, showing off all his molars.

"Oh no, you're going to be bad at this," Mark then winced and made you gasp.

"No I won't be!"

"Maybe," Poppy started, then looked at Joe, "you could get together and help each other out?"

And Joe's eyes shot to you, and you saw every fiber in his being hesitate and think of a way to polite tell you no, that's all right actually.

"Listen," you started, and hoped to keep the atmosphere light and jokey, like it had been, even though neither you or Joe had joked or laughed together at all. You never did.

"I don't need Joe to keep me from losing the wedding rings," you helped Joe out. "I think we'll do just fine on our own – you wouldn't have asked us if you thought we were going to be shit at our jobs,"

Ever the mediator, you.

"Oh fuck," Mark squeezed his eyes shut, and tipped his head back a little.

"You just jinxed it!" Poppy said with huge eyes, but a secret smile playing underneath.

"What?"

"You're going to lose the wedding rings," Joe said.

"No I won't–"

"She's going to lose the wedding rings," Mark said to Poppy.

"If you fucking lose our wedding rings," Poppy spoke through her teeth with a threatening finger pointed at you, but couldn't keep her giggles in.

"Stop it, I'm not! I'm not going to lose your wedding rings!"

You wouldn't. Because you were going to beat Joe at this. You were going to do a better job, have more fun doing it and, you just decided, look better doing it too. And Joe was really fucking good looking, so that was really saying something.

And you wouldn't lose the wedding rings.

You wouldn't.

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610  @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[ssavaart]

___ Scott, I have been long meaning to ask,

Did you ever deal with dissatisfaction of your end product art versus the quality of your supplies?

I say this as most art supplies that are readily available in the US, have its prices inflated easily up to three times the original (in USD) where I am from.

Though I desire greatly to support my local brands, they will rarely provide the gamut of quality found in the art supplies available in other countries. (Mainly Europe and North America).

Any time I come to ponder this, it brings me an anxiety that once my art evolves, I will be unable to follow up and upgrade the materials used for them; the cost of professional and international art supplies would make it unpractical in the long run.

This mainly affects me during the creation process, as I am constantly reminded that even those advertised and sold as artist grade where I live fall significantly behind those internationally known, and well respected art brands. (Arrtx, Blick, and even Winston & Newton are hardly heard of)

Consequently, I then think; if I am to purchase art supplies any more expensive, it might just not be worth and wasteful, as my art would not justify the cost.

I am aware this might not apply to everyone (maybe not to you, either!), but I am relatively new to this ─ and you are my greatest reference as an artist.

So, how would you do it? ~for-the-writing-artist

Hi. This is a great question that I'm asked a lot (especially from my fans in India) and I think the best answer that I have is that you will KNOW when you need to upgrade your art materials. In other words... if you're still young (under 25) and still learning... use what you have. You don't need good art materials to learn design, composition, proportions, values, negative space, color theory, and generally just building your style and confidence.

Use the cheap materials to get good at storytelling.

Find your voice.

Then... when you start to get to the point where you're getting job offers, commissions, or generally feeling like "yeah... I'm a professional now", then... THEN you can look into the "good stuff".

Until that day... you're still learning (though, to be honest... I'M still learning too. We're always learning) and there's no need to waste money on better materials.

Will better art supplies help your art? Absolutely.

Will it make you a better artist? Nope.

Work on getting better.

Work on learning.

The good art supplies can come later when your art (and you) are ready.

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

[fushiglow]

If JJK characters were in Non- Curse world, what would their job be if not become Jujutsu Sorcerer (in your opinion)? Why? Please pick your top 5 fav characters...

I love you for asking this, anon ♥ It's an opportunity to wax lyrical about something I've given a great deal of thought! These are my instinctive answers, although I could make arguments for a number of other professions for each of them depending on the life choices they made in this hypothetical non-curse world — but we don't need to get into that! So, here I go (in no particular order):

Yūta is an emergency paediatric surgeon

When he was young, he made the decision to become a trauma surgeon after losing his childhood friend in a car accident. He spent some time in hospital as a child and he knows what a scary place it can be for children, so he always does his best to make his patients smile when he's checking in on their progress.

He's brilliant at what he does — a once in a generation talent — but that doesn't mean he can save everyone. It's heartbreaking work on a good day, but when he's been at work for approaching 30 hours and he feels like he wants out, he looks at the photo of Rika in his locker and finds the strength to go on.

Kenjaku is a performer

If the average Japanese human enjoys at least 80 rotations around the sun, why waste them by playing the same role every time? That's Kenjaku's outlook on life — which is why they chose to go into acting. However, they quickly became bored by other people's narrow view of the world, dissatisfied by the limits of everyone else's imagination.

Nowadays, Kenjaku marches to the beat of their own drum in a one-person show. There are more than ten roles available, all of them played by Kenjaku — who is also the writer, producer, and director. Critics can't decide whether it's madness or sheer brilliance.

Megumi is a vet

He's grumpy with humans, especially if they're irresponsible pet owners. However, he's soft as anything with the animals, and his regular clients trust him implicitly with their beloved furry family members — because it's obvious how much they love him.

Megumi is really good at his job, but he's guilty of taking his work home with him and finds it difficult not to get emotionally attached to the animals he's treating, even after years in the profession. Although he'd never hesitate to make difficult decisions, the unique ethical dilemmas his job presents take a toll on his wellbeing — especially when human cruelty or indifference come into play.

Suguru is a school teacher

Teaching is neither recognised nor appreciated by most people. However, although Suguru had the brains to follow his friends into their highly respected fields, he couldn't imagine anything more rewarding than doing his part to ensure that the next generation have an easier time of things than he did at the same age.

He tries to be the person he needed when he was at school: a pillar of support for struggling children who have no one else on their side. Unfortunately, the school system seems determined to hurt the very children it's supposed to support, and some of the parents go out of their way to undermine any positive developments he makes with their child — not to mention the terrible pay and working conditions!

Satoru is a physicist

But he could have done anything he put his mind to. In fact, that's the only thing Satoru ever really found difficult in life: choosing one path to follow. Sometimes, he wishes he'd become a musician or a historian or an athlete, but in the end, nothing captured his imagination quite like the limitless bounds of the universe.

He's younger than most of his peers in the field, and his revolutionary ideas (alongside his casual disregard for traditional academic hierarchies) get him in trouble more often than not. However, he's a certified genius, and popular with the media, too. He's doing a lot to improve the image of physicists among the general public — which translates to more funding for research. That keeps them out of his hair, most of the time at least!

-

These are too obvious, but I thought I'd mention them anyway:

Yūji is a firefighter who remembers the names and faces of every single person he couldn't save.

Shōko is a pathologist who devotes herself to improving the diagnosis and treatment of disease, often at the expense of her own health and wellbeing.

Because they're *also* huge nerds, I imagine Sukuna and Yuki as physicists in slightly different fields to Gojō:*

Yuki is a brilliant mind, but she doesn't live up to her potential because she hates the oppressive nature of academia. In fact, she vocally criticises it and goes out of her way to undermine it, to the chagrin of all the old stuffy professors who try to discredit her at every opportunity.

Sukuna, like Gojō, is a genius who's fascinated by what he doesn't know, shaking up the field with his cutting edge (lol) ideas. I like to imagine the pair of them getting into heated arguments at conferences, though they both have enormous (albeit grudging) respect for each other.

*As long as Sukuna is, you know, ~normal~ in this hypothetical non-curse world. Otherwise, he'd be a chef that moonlights as a sadistic serial killer lol.

-

Thank you for the extremely fun question, I had the time of my life! I hope you enjoy my answers ♥

[gowonders]

lucid ♥ j.js

minors dni with this post!

warnings: not proofread, english isn’t my first language, makeup artist dom!jinsoul, fem idol!reader, sorta manipulation into consent, jinsoul is implied to be older than reader, sweet names (sweetie, doll, baby), jinsoul has a maam kink, oral (jinsoul rec. + reader rec.), reader is kinda inexperienced but she’s a natural luckily!, reader has mommy kink hehe, degradation, thigh riding, cursing, climax denial, reader gets fucked with a makeup brush ☺️, lmk if i missed any!

notes: FINALLYYY A FULL FIC AFTER FOREVERRR .. this is actually something i don’t really do but i feel like all of my stuff is kinda vanilla.. sooo i tried something a little different at the end TT 🫡 my loona fics never really do well, but if you actually read for loona i hope you like this!

💄₊˚⊹♡

jinsoul who’s been your makeup artist since your debut, happily smiling as she brushed eye shimmer on your eyelids, sweetly complimenting your full cheeks as she applied blush on them. but over the moments you would spend together, early mornings at music shows, she would get quieter and quieter as she did your makeup.

see, what you didn’t know is that jinsouls mind would be flooded with such perverted thoughts when she did your makeup >_< when she applied shiny gloss over your pretty lips, she would think how cute you’d look when you’d eat her out. or when you obediently flutter your eyes closed so she can apply mascara, she thinks of how perfect you’d look when you unravel on her thigh. not to mention how docile you were for her.

“yn, sweetie, would you pass me that concealer?” she asks, slender hand rubbing your shoulder. “yes ma’am.” you respond, hand reaching over to grab the concealer. and she gulps at that, cheeks turning pink at the way you call her ‘ma'am’. you were so polite for her, so obedient! “thank you, doll.” she smiles, taking the tube from you and starting to apply it to your face.

she finishes up your makeup, applying glimmering gloss on your plump lips as she nods. “all done, yn! good luck on your performance, doll.” she coos, smoothing out your hair as she motions you to get up. “you made me look so pretty, ma’am!” you smile up at her. “of course, but i just made you look even better.“

💄₊˚⊹♡

you finish your performance, cheering with the other girls in your group and all of the staff claps and cheers along with you all as you enter the green room. “great job, everyone!” your leader cheers, and with that, you all make your way to your dressing rooms, and as you enter yours, you see your makeup artist, sitting on the counter that her makeup supplies sit on. “oh, hi ma’am! did you.. need something?” you ask, setting your things down and taking a sip of the drink you got earlier in the morning before your performance. “not at all dear, just wanted to congratulate you on your performance.” you nod silently, finishing the sip of the drink you took.

“thank you-“ you start, before she cuts you off. “sweetie, come here, you smudged your lip stain, i can fix it really fast before i go!” she motions you over, jumping off the table as she sits you down , taking a wip to the corner or your lips, and you can feel her breath on your lips as she wipes the lip stain away. “you did so well today, doll.” your heart skips a beat at the praise, but you smile shyly as you nod. “thank you, miss!” “of course. also, here you are, i’m done! you can be on your way, sweetie. i’ll see you in a few days for the next music show!”

💄₊˚⊹♡

“you fit this concept so well, doll.” she mentions as she puts blush on your cheeks, her mind filled with thoughts of how cute you would look all fucked out for her. “thanks, miss!” you mumble, not wanting to interrupt her work she always does so well. like always, she finishes the look with a gloss that overlays your lips perfectly, and she motions you to stand up. “yn, i actually finished up quite early, yeah?” she mentions, checking her watch. “oh, did you? you’re pretty fast then!” you smile, her returning it as she pats your shoulder.

“look..” she starts, sighing as she looks down at you. “baby, you’d always help me out, right?” she coos, slender fingers tracing lines into your shoulder. “yes ma’am, do you need something before i perform?” she swallows hard at how you call her ma’am once more, and she just relishes in the way you’re so obedient again. “mm.. you’d do anything for me right? after all.. i am your elder, doll.. and i really want you to do something.” she says, voice slightly turning possessive. “cmon.. baby.. you can’t say no to me, i’m your elder.” she coos, just like that, you’re being pulled on your knees onto the floor, a submissive rag doll all for jinsouls pleasure.

“ma’am, what are you making me do..?” you ask as she stands over you, stroking my hair. “baby.. need you to eat me out, if you do well, i’ll give you a reward after your performance. can you do that for me? huh? do it for me, i know better, doll.” she coos, squatting down a little to rub your shoulder. “y- yes ma’am…” you say, looking down at the floor before your hands creep up to her waistband, pulling her panties and pants down slowly. you look back up at her.. more like her core. “baby, we don’t have all day.. only like.. 25 minutes, hurry up.” she groans, hands gripping at the table as to not ruin your hair. “yes ma’am.. ‘m sorry..” you mumble as you bring your lips to her core.. that’s been soaking wet the second you sat down in her chair to get your makeup done.

your tongue travels to her clit, rubbing at it to stimulate it, you’d never really done this before, but at the way jinsoul groans you name out loudly, you hope it’s good enough for her. “momma…” you groan against her heat. you’d known her long enough that she’s not even suprised, and the way your voice vibrates through her has her writhing and rubbing herself against your face so she could get more. “baby.. please.. more..” and you give in, your tongue rubbing at her clit as your fingers insert her hole, your fingers hesitantly pumping in and out of her hole. “d-doll…” she mutters, thighs squeezing around your head subconsciously. “doing so w-well.. fuck, m’ gonna-!” she yelps, and with one stuttered thrust against your lips, her release fills up your mouth, her thighs relaxing their grip as she pulls away, her breath shaky as she pulls you up. “l-lets.. fix your lipstick really fast, doll.”

💄₊˚⊹♡

you finish your performance as best you can, but you feel like it showed that you had jinsoul on your mind the whole time.. and jinsoul could definitely tell as she watched the recording as she waited for you. and she was totally going to tell you off for the slightest mistake, just as always.

you sigh as you walk back into your dressing room, back pressed against the door , you spot jinsoul sitting on the table, and her glare on you is harsh as you walk in. you know she’s not praising you for how well you did.

“yn, baby.” she beckons you over, staring into your eyes, she grabs your wrist and pulls you closer. “i watched your performance, i saw your little mistakes. you think you’re gonna get a fucking reward after that? huh?” she says sternly. “no ma’am.. i-“ you say before she cuts you off. “you what? had me on your mind too much? i know you know how to perform this choreography, you did it the other day. and the other girls did it just fine.” she starts, her grip on your wrist tightening. “what is it baby? can’t deal with a little favor then going straight to performing? anyone else could’ve done it.” she says, her face getting closer to yours. “please ma’am-“ “no! if you fucking do this again i’ll.. i swear. i’m gonna tell everyone how much of a whore you are for your makeup artist.”

and with that, her lips are starting to work down your jaw, marking down your neck. “miss no-!!! i have a show tomorrow too-“ she pulls of your neck, scoffing. “what, so you can perform messily there too? don’t worry, i can cover it up just fine, doll. you know that.” her hickeys trail down to your collarbone, before she pulls off ,flips your skirt up and drops your panties down to your ankles. “fucking ride me, doll.” she says, holding you by your waist and placing you on her thigh. “don’t know how..” you mumble, whining at the way her thigh makes contact with your mound. “course you don’t. figure it out, then. i’m not helping you until you make me proud.” you whine in annoyance before you weakly start rutting your hips against hers, whining as nothing really reaches what you need.

she laughs cruelly at the way you can’t get yourself off :( “poor baby.. wanna feel good so bad??” she mocks, slender fingers ghosting closely to your clit. “momma.. please-“ you moan, and she can’t help but take pity on you, she wants to help her girl sooo bad. her free hand grips onto your hip, guiding you to actually get yourself off better. and you practically crumble on her thigh right then. “ma’am..!!” you whisper, face hiding in her collarbone. and it doesn’t help how her fingers finally start to play at your sweet spot, and all she does in response is chuckle, loving the way your eyes squeeze shut and your whole body trembles.

“momma.. wanna c-cu-“ she immediately pulls you off her thigh, and takes her fingers away from you. “nuh uh. not yet doll.” she moves behind you, holding you up by your waist so you don’t fall.. your legs are already so weak.. then she pushes your down onto the table, ass up for her to do anything. “doll, hand me the brush i put your blush on with earlier?” she asks, hand reaching out for when you get it. your shaky hand takes the thick brush from the side of her bag, handing it to her. “open wide, sweetie.” she says, easing the brush into your mouth. “noooo~” you mumble around the plastic. “baby, you don’t get a fucking say in the matter.” she says sternly, pulling the brush out of your mouth and bringing it to your core, teasing it at your entrance. “p-please.. it’s gonna hurt..” you mumble against the table, squeezing your thighs shut, but of course it won’t do anything.

“no doll, it won’t.” and with that, she’s pushing the end of the brush, not even giving you time to adjust to its size before she’s thrusting it in and out of you, chuckling at the way your squirm and squeal at the sensation. “a-ah..!!! miss..!!” you yelp as she presses your hips against the table. “stay still. with the way you’re moving so much it’s only gonna hurt worse.” she says, kissing down your shaky thighs as she keeps doing her work on you, just waiting to see you unravel.

“mommy.. can’t take any more-“ you whine, nails attempting to grip at the table, biting your lip to hold yourself together. “baby.. yes you can. just a little more.” she says, leaving pecks and marks up your inner thighs, speeding up her pace as she gasps at the way you practically scream. “miss.. please..!” “please what, baby.” she mocks. “if you make me stop i’ll tell everyone how much of a fucking whore you are.” she threatens once more, making you whine, but you go along, and you practically thrust back into the brush. “momma- wanna cum this time ..!” you beg, broken whines leaving you. “okay baby. you can this time..” and with that, she speeds up her pace even more, making you last just one moment more before a staccato moan leaves your lips, and jinsoul is catching your release with her lips, pulling the end of the brush out and replacing it with her knowing tongue, thrusting it in and out of you to help you ride out your high.

💄₊˚⊹♡

“aaaand there.” she says, cleaning the rest of her spit and release mixture off your thighs. “seriously baby.. you kept making mistakes.. i don’t want you to do that badly just because of me. i know you can do better. okay?” “okay.. i’m sorry, ma’am.” you respond, looking down at your trembling thighs. “don’t be, i know you can do better, sweetie. ‘m proud of you.”

[lily-blue]

Paying the price

☆ characters: patriot!jiung & revolutioner!you ☆ genre: dystopian au, the devil judge au, angst ☆ warnings: graphic description of damaged corpses, mention of blood and violence, vomiting, major character’s death, spoilers ☆ summary: jiung believes in the system, that it has the people’s best interest; you believe that the system is rotten to the core and the people of South Korea need to be enlightened about the truth - as it always is, you two learn it the hard way which one of you is right ☆ words: 15,3k ☆ massive thank you: to @dat-town ♥ for proofreading this monster (i still can’t believe i accidentally made intak older than jiung 🙃) ☆ also: happy name day to the one and only @restlessmaknae​ 💕 it actually made me feel nostalgic when i started to search up these guys for this story, it reminded me of that one yeonjun fic i wrote for you, the one that made me stan txt. i’m not quite there yet with these boys, but who knows, maybe one day. thank you for coming back to my life and showing me new groups and new things this year, too. i wish you nothing but happiness! 💕 ☆ a/n: this story is written for @restlessmaknae’s (dis)harmony collab; you can check out the masterlist with the other stories » here

Despite the country’s shortcomings: the apparent corruption that was planted in its core from the education system through the media to the judicial and political apparatuses, you loved your home. You loved living in a neighbourhood where the grocery store ahjussi gave you an extra cluster of grapes whenever you looked tired at the end of a rough day and the ahjumma from the corner Chinese restaurant knew your order by heart, hence spared you from the headache of making yet another decision when all you craved was a big bowl of warm lotus root soup. You loved knowing the youngsters in your building by their name and the feeling of having half a dozen sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts despite losing your family at an unfairly young age and spending too many lonely years in a government-funded orphanage.

God, you even loved the opportunities higher education was constantly giving you regardless of a handful of your teachers who openly expressed their political views in class when it went against your university’s policies. So why couldn’t you have sat through your Korean History II. lecture with a neutral face like everyone else did? Why did it make your blood boil when looking at Choi Jiung’s slides you realised that he was about to praise your country’s leaders, too, like the three other students before him had already done during their own presentations? Why couldn’t you have shut up and swallow down your opinion when it was time for the audience’s questions?

Easy. Because despite your love for your country and the people around you, it was corrupt to the core and as law students, all of you should have refrained from turning a blind eye to the exponentially growing amount of power abuse that happened in your home. It didn’t matter that half of your classes brainwashed you to bend under pressure.

‘What about those innocent citizens who lost their homes because of the evacuation? There is no clear data available about the rehousing of those families. Were they ever compensated?’ You threw your provocative questions at the blond boy, voice firm and merciless as your words echoed off the pristine walls in the small classroom.

The moment Choi Jiung’s gaze fell on you, you knew he was pissed, although he did a great job concealing his feelings. It was just… you had known the guy ever since you had moved to your current one-bedroom flat right after you had been kicked out of the orphanage. You could read him like he was an open book.

‘While the rate of unemployment increased during the pandemic, the statistics show that the rate of homelessness stayed stagnant. Is that not clear data?’ The blond boy asked back and you could hear your professor’s pleased humming from the first row as you were sitting in the second one, almost right behind Mr. Kim.

You linked your fingers and let your arms fall on your desk while you leaned forwards with a straight back. You didn’t break eye contact.

‘Reports from that period state that due to the pandemic, there were less ongoing projects in the construction industry, which means there couldn’t have been emergency constructions due to rehousing. Where did those families go?’ You pushed, shutting out the murmurs from your side and behind your back. You were already used to the whispering, the wary look in your classmates’ eyes whenever you expressed your opinion.

Unlike what they said, you weren’t obsessed with the spotlight nor did you have a childish crush on Choi Jiung. You picked fights with him because he was an unpleasant part of your friend group, but a part nonetheless, and you believed that Shota wouldn’t have tolerated his presence in your lives if he had been a lost case.

You challenged Jiung repeatedly to help him see the errors in his own beliefs.

‘Less ongoing projects don’t equal to no ongoing project. It only means there were fewer than before the pandemic,’ Jiung stated, voice cold despite the fire in his eyes. ‘Those few projects could have been, or included, the emergency constructions in the countryside,’ he said, your nails digging into the back of your hands because of your frustration as you were listening.

‘Hundreds of thousands of people—’

‘I think that’s enough. We still have one more presentation to sit through and discuss before this seminar ends,’ your professor rose from his seat, exchanging positions with the blond student. If looks could have killed, neither him nor Mr. Kim would have survived your rage. How dared this old, soggy snob cut you off when you were clearly making a point?

You had to bite into your cheeks from the inside to not curse him out, but your opinion must have been written all over your face because before the next student could have started her presentation, the history professor looked at you and shook his head as though he was deeply disappointed when clearly, he was annoyed.

‘It’s my last warning, miss,’ the man stated and you were genuinely surprised that he hadn’t memorised your name by now. After all, it wasn’t your first class with him and you had never been a silent participant. ‘If you keep disturbing the peaceful learning environment, I will need to send you out of my class and mark this lesson as a missed lesson next to your name in the roster,’ he informed you, although it was more like a threat.

Okay, maybe he did know your name. He just didn’t bother to address you respectfully.

You pressed your lips into a firm line, contemplating whether getting into a useless fight with your professor would have been worth it, but ended up biting into your cheek from the inside once again instead of reciting your rights as a student of this institute. It didn’t matter what rights a piece of paper gave you in your country when your opinion differed from what was accepted and encouraged by those above you - expected and demanded if you didn’t feel like sugarcoating the truth.

Consequently, you fully intended to stay put until the end of the class because it was still too early into the semester to waste one of the three lessons you were allowed to miss in each seminar, but as soon as Kang Yohan’s face was staring back at you from the next presenter’s slides, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. Thus, you did both yourself and the class a favour when you shoved your laptop into your backpack and walked out of the classroom without a word.

The sound of your steps echoed off the walls of the semi-abandoned hallways, but the relative silence didn’t bother you, nor did the glances you got from those who saw you walking out of a classroom before the official end of the period. Confident, you headed towards the library on the first floor with your chin high and your facial expression unbothered.

It wasn’t the first time you chose your beliefs (and your pride) instead of letting a professor humiliate you in front of a whole class, after all.

You were doing some research for another class, sipping on your iced coffee despite the late hour, reading through statistics about crime rates and the judicial system, when Shota took a seat by the table you had been occupying since your last class for the day. You narrowed your eyes as you let your gaze loiter over his dishevelled figure, but said nothing before you turned back to your laptop. Being neighbours with the guy, you whole-heartedly believed that some things considering him was better left unasked. That way, you weren’t an accomplice.

‘Are you still looking for a way to get inside that institute?’ He asked while he reached out for your drink and took a casual sip of the bitter beverage like it was his.

You tore your gaze from the screen and leaned your back against your chair without making the slightest attempt at getting your drink back from the younger. Instead, you linked your arms in front of your chest and observed his face with caution. The yellowish bruise under his left eye and the cut on his cheek promised nothing good, but you knew Shota meant danger mostly for himself and rarely for the people around him.

‘The Dream House Medical Center?’ You asked just to confirm that you were thinking of the same building and all he gave you was a nod and a lopsided smile. ‘Yeah, I do, actually.’

Even though you still had a whole year before you should have started on your masters thesis, you already had a pretty firm idea of what you would have liked to write about: Kang Yohan, the misjudged judge who had died nearly a decade ago in the explosion of the courtroom where the infamous live court show had been broadcasted. That day, South Korea had lost not only the president and the first lady of the country, but five other powerful and rich people as well, all seven of them corrupt to the core yet labelled as victims of a self-assured psychopath. It boiled your blood whenever you thought of them, how in today’s history books, they were the casualty of an anti-national act conducted in an attempt to overthrow the administration.

Your fists were trembling as your nails sank into the soft flesh of your palms. You swore, you would clear the judge’s name one day in the future and make everyone see those lies that they were constantly fed by the government. Your thesis paper, the detailed research none of your professors would be able to oppose, would be the first step down the road.

But to be able to start marching, you had to get inside the Dream House Medical Center.

‘Any suggestions?’ You asked when the silence got too loud, not breaking eye contact even when you could feel the first tear drops forming in the corner of your eyes. Making a deal with Shota was never easy, the boy did nothing for free, not even for his closest friends, but he wouldn’t have brought up the topic just to tease you. He had something to offer and you knew when to be patient.

‘I got my hands on some interesting intel, so I can get us in and out without any of the guards noticing,’ he informed you, lazily sipping on your drink as though he hadn’t just knocked you off your feet with his statement. You were trying to find a way inside that building for months by then, because while it was supposed to be an abandoned institute - it was a part of a failed charity project after all - it was unreasonably heavily guarded.

Taking a deeper breath to ground yourself, you put your elbows on the table in front of your laptop and leaned forwards.

‘Name your price,’ you demanded quietly, earning a genuine smile from the boy.

‘Help me with the university interview. I need dirt on your professors and those you don’t have classes with,’ Shota negotiated and honestly, the only reason you were able to swallow down the laugh that was scratching your throat was the fact that you needed his help. If you could have afforded him getting sulky, you would have ruffled his messy hair and pinched his cheeks before you told him you would have helped him anyway.

He was clearly doing you a favour for free while pretending that he was a businessman who made no exceptions. It made you wonder whether he had gotten beaten up when he had tried to find information on the Dream House for you or the two things were completely irrelevant. A selfish part of you that didn’t want to deal with the guilt wished it was the latter, but deep down you knew Shota wouldn’t have held back something so huge just to share it with you at the perfect moment.

You had both learned early on in your lives that perfect moments were created; they didn’t just come to those who were patiently waiting.

‘Want it written down or is it enough if I tell you everything I know?’ You asked with a small tilt of your head, playing along and taking on a more serious tone. Meanwhile, you glanced down at your laptop and pulled up a blank document on your screen. The chances that none of your professors would have been present at Shota’s interview was high, so you wanted to make sure you had info on those who might have been possible candidates. For that, you needed to prepare a long list with every professor from the Business Faculty on it and ask around in the KU group chats you weren’t a part of yet.

‘Written down,’ Shota said and you acknowledged his choice with a low hum and a nod as you pulled up your university’s website and copied the names of the listed professors to your document. You also made a second list that contained the names of students you personally knew and would have vouched for, hence could have sought out for help.

‘Consider it being done,’ you preened, scanning through your lists one more time before you closed the tab and saved a couple of important websites regarding your assignment for your class as bookmarks. You made sure your laptop was turned off properly before you shoved it into your bag. ‘About the Dream House…’ you started, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could despite the light buzzing in your veins. ‘When are we going?’

‘Where are you going?’ Choi Jiung’s voice cut off your impromptu discussion before it could have started and you sighed, disappointed that you had let your excitement get the best of you when you should have seen the interruption coming. After all, Jiung was well aware that you preferred studying on campus over writing your papers in your own flat. He also knew that Shota liked tagging along when you had classes after six, because it meant that chances you would stay at the nearby coffee shop until closing time was high and he hated when you walked home on your own so late at night. Thus, when Jiung was looking for his friend, all he needed to do was checking the spots you frequented at.

‘None of your business, Choi,’ you grumbled while you leaned back against your chair and linked your arms in front of your chest.

Frustrated, you rolled your eyes when Jiung put a cup of perfectly untouched iced coffee on the table in front of you, but reached out for the drink when you saw Shota eyeing it like he was seconds away from stealing that, too.

The silence that fell on your table wasn’t new. It was a recurring phenomenon in your friends group whenever Jiung and you were joined by a less talkative person - so basically anyone other than Keeho or Intak. And while at first it had made you anxious, because you had felt as though you should have been able to initiate or at least keep up a pleasant conversation with people you considered close friends, by now you knew silence was absolutely fine as well. In fact! It was rather nice to enjoy the tranquillity around people who accepted you the way you were: stubborn, strong-willed and curt when you had nothing important to say.

‘What got your panties in a twist this time?’ Shota’s snarky question shook you out of your thoughts, his dark eyes fixed on nothing in particular making you wonder whether he was talking to you or the blond boy on his other side.

You opened your mouth for an equally sarcastic answer when Jiung let out a loud huff and cut you off with his own mocking reply.

‘What else? She tried to sabotage my presentation. Again,’ he accused and you rolled your eyes without giving too much thought to the action. All three of you knew damn well that you would have never stooped so low; your morals simply wouldn’t have let you play dirty much to Shota’s disappointment. The younger had tried to make you see numerous times that the world wasn’t fair to those who played by the rules, but you stood your ground each and every time. You wanted to become an exceptional judge just like Kang Yohan and his mentee, Kim Gaon. You were determined to lead by example as well - with the right example!

‘Oh, grow up, Choi Jiung, would you? My questions were spot on,’ you retorted, slim fingers turning white around your drink.

Looking around, you had to remind yourself that just because it was late, the coffee shop still had a fair amount of customers, thus you should have kept your voice low to not disturb their peace. Still, resisting the urge to call the blond boy out on his bullshit, as he wouldn’t have contributed to your daily caffeine intake if he had been indeed pissed, was challenging. He got under your skin way too easily.

‘No. You were once again pressing your false narrative,’ Jiung tried to correct you, talking to you in a condescending way that made you feel like a child. If looks could have killed, he would have been dead even before his gaze landed on you. ‘One day, these types of questions will cost you a lot more than a missed class.’

You gulped down the coffee in your mouth along with the non-existent bile that somehow did scratch your throat.

‘Is that a threat?’ You spat, unaware of the sadness in Jiung’s eyes as you were hyper fixated on the possible implication behind his words. It made you see red, grip tight around your cup and nails digging into the plastic with so much force, Shota had to take the coffee out of your hand and put it on the table before it could have overflowed.

‘Friendly advice,’ Jiung corrected you once again and it was only due to the years of practice the orphanage had given you that you hadn’t screamed it into his face that you didn’t consider him as a friend. Not like you did Keeho and Theo and sure as hell not like you did Shota. The sole reason you let him be a part of your life despite his questionable political beliefs was your respect for the others.

With a resigned sigh, Jiung turned his gaze away and shook his head as though he couldn’t have taken your stubbornness any longer. Well, you didn’t ask him to.

‘I’m done for today,’ you stated, leaving the half-finished drink on the table as you grabbed your bag and slid your gaze to the younger. ‘Shota?’

The boy stood up from his seat immediately and reached out for the abandoned beverage, his smile content as he took a big sip from the iced coffee. He patted Jiung’s shoulder twice in gratitude, then squeezed it lightly for good measure.

You turned away, refusing to feel guilty for putting an abrupt end to the conversation. It was a long day, getting into a heated argument about the government with Jiung for the second time that day was the last thing you needed. Especially at a public place that you loved and where you were a regular.

‘See you tomorrow, hyung,’ Shota bid his goodbye while you sealed your lips and gave Jiung a half-assed bow because it was a habit drilled into your DNA. It was a fundamental part of your culture: you bowed to people at every single encounter, at every goodbye and sometimes in between when the situation required it. You didn’t have to respect someone to follow the most basic rules of etiquette in their company.

If Jiung had said anything to your best friend before the younger boy followed you towards the exit, you hadn’t heard him, but you did sneak a peek at him sitting casually by your table before you closed the door shut.

Not that you would have admitted it to anyone.

Your palms were sweaty while you were waiting with Shota for what you supposed was some sort of sign that you could finally enter the building without getting arrested for trespassing. Admittedly, you had never felt more nervous in your entire life: your current actions going against your moral code while simultaneously aiding your fight against the propaganda that your whole nation was fed with on a daily basis. You needed evidence, desperately so, but the thought of breaking into the Dream House Medical Center freaked you out more and more as the crucial moment came closer and closer to your present.

Only a couple hundreds of metres from the abandoned institute, it felt too real. You weren’t sure you were ready and started to question whether you were made for the job.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that at one point your feet started drumming a clumsy rhythm on their own accord, but your lips still parted slightly when you felt a warm hand on your knee, over your ripped jeans. Staring at Shota’s hand, you lifted your head to look at his face and shot a tight-lipped smile at him as a sign of gratitude for his silent support. You could do this. It had been your idea from the beginning. You were doing the right thing.

So why did the proverb ‘the end justifies the means’ sound like a cheap excuse of a criminal?

‘Nervous, kiddo?’ A familiar voice pulled you out of the self-doubting spiral of thoughts and you turned towards the newcomers with panic in your eyes. Not counting the two of you, no one should have known about your plan. So why were two of your friends staring at you like they were simultaneously doubting your sanity and admiring you for your guts?

You looked around to check your surroundings in search of the others, then let your gaze fall back on Keeho and Jiung when you realised it was only them. 

‘What are you guys doing here?’ You whisper-shouted, unable to decide how you felt about their presence. For 1) since it was your research, you felt like you were responsible for the safety of everyone who got involved in the fieldwork and looking after Shota in itself was already a bit emotionally overwhelming for you under the current circumstances. 2) Because of the very same reason, you were relieved that there would be more pairs of eyes during the investigation that could watch out for the potential danger.

Still, a part of you felt more people meant a bigger risk. It didn’t help that you were already fidgety due to your growing guilt that pressed down on your chest.

‘Supervising,’ Keeho explained, his tone lowkey condescending like he couldn’t believe he needed to spell it out to you. Like it was natural that he was there even though he shouldn’t have known about the trespassing to begin with. ‘Obviously, I won’t just let Shota break into a guarded institute on his own,’ he added, coaxing a displeased scoff out of you with his complete disregard for your presence and capabilities.

You wanted to remind the boy that you were only two weeks younger than him and that you would have made sure Shota didn’t get in trouble even if it had meant endangering your own life, but in the end you swallowed back your remarks. Mostly, because you believed it would have been unwise to start a fight so close to the main gates. Also, because your muscles were non-existent in comparison with the older boy’s. Realistically speaking, he had more potential than you when it came to protecting your friends.

‘What about you?’ You turned towards Jiung, one of your slim brows raised with challenge. For some reason, you doubted he had come with Keeho to help you in any way. If anything, he might have tagged along to give you another unasked, friendly advice.

‘I came to see your face when you realise you’ve been wrong all this time,’ he claimed with a shrug, not putting too much effort into protecting your feelings. Although, had he ever? The thought that he found true joy in your failures left a bitter taste in your mouth.

The retort that he had come in vain had already been on the tip of your tongue when Shota nudged you with his shoulder and pointed at the entrance once he gained your attention.

‘It’s time,’ he said. You gulped before you acknowledged his statement with a nod.

Considering how many walls you had bumped into while you had been trying to find a way inside the building in the legal way, how unhelpful every single one of the government agents had been and how many armed guards you had seen around the building in the last hour, you had assumed that walking inside the medical centre would be challenging despite your best friend’s intel. Blame it on those old school action movies Intak loved so much, but you were convinced that you would be in a race against time, that you would need to run and jump and use your non-existent muscles to get through some hidden back door.

Walking up to the front door with confident strides and opening the huge lock with a key was oddly anticlimactic. You had to pinch your arm to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

‘How the hell did you put your hands on that thing?’ Keeho asked, stealing the words out of your mouth.

Shota closed the double door behind your backs like he had just gotten home, then turned on his flashlight similar to the one in your pocket. You mimicked him and turned on yours, too.

‘I asked for a copy? Don’t you know acting suspicious is what makes people aware you’re up to something?’ He asked, not really expecting an answer based on the way he turned his back on your small group and started to walk down the hallway. ‘It’s all about confidence.’

You put your hand on Keeho’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly as a reminder that you didn’t have time for further interrogation nor was it the most suitable place for a parental scolding, then followed your best friend until you reached the first intersection. There, you waited for the others to catch up with you and you decided to split up. You didn’t have all the time in the world after all, only two hours until the next error in the system of the graveyard shift.

‘I’ll check the basement,’ you volunteered and shook your head dismissively when you saw Jiung open his mouth from the corner of your eyes. ‘Keeho’s babysitting, there are too many floors for just two groups,’ you said, slowly turning towards the blond boy with your entire body.

‘Who said I was about to follow you?’ He retorted with a huff and took the flashlight out of Keeho’s hand as he turned on his heels and marched up the stairs. You kept your eyes on his back until he disappeared, then shot a tight-lipped smile in the others’ direction before you made them promise to take pictures of anything suspicious or interesting-looking.

You hoped Jiung would do the same as well even though he hadn’t waited around for your reminder. You had faith in Shota and his dubious network, you really did, but you genuinely doubted you would have had another chance like this in the near future if you had failed to gather enough evidence due to your slipshod job.

On your way to the basement, you kept your mind occupied with random songs from the last decade they still played on the radio just so it wouldn’t have turned on you and made you see things in the darkness that weren’t there. Your imagination might not have been too wild, but being alone in a building where you assumed poor people had been killed for how much their organs were worth was scary. You didn’t believe in ghosts and other supernatural creatures, but you wouldn’t have blamed their souls for sticking around, angry, if they had existed.

The dust in the air was heavy and it stuck to your skin uncomfortably as you checked each and every door that opened from the hallway underground. Most of the rooms were unlocked, the surgical equipment inside of them outdated and untouched. A part of you - the same part that was convinced of Kang Yohan’s innocence - was eager to see them as evidence of human experiments, but the rational side of you was aware that things like these were normal at a medical facility. If you had shown photos of these to anyone, they would have focused on the fact that you shouldn’t have been in the building.

You gulped, growing frustrated, as you checked the time on your phone and walked up to the next door. You still had some time.

Admittedly, you knew you could have spent an entire day in the building and still felt like you needed more to do a thorough research, but beggars couldn’t have been choosers. Thus, you locked your panicking thoughts in the back of your mind and opened the drawers in the next room that looked more like an abandoned office than a medical room.

‘Come on!’ You groaned when you found the third drawer in a row empty, getting on your knees without much thinking to force the last one open as well. At first glance, it didn’t seem like you should have had a key to open it, so you hoped it was only stuck, preferably due to the weight of the papers inside of it.

Two of your nails broke in the process and your fingertips were burning, but eventually you managed to open the lowest drawer, its content plenty and full of names you weren’t familiar with. However, you did recognise one: Heo Joongse. He had been one of the “victims” of the explosion that had killed Kang Yohan. He had been the former president of South Korea.

Hands shaking nervously, you started to take pictures of the documents, but because of the lack of proper lighting, they turned out to be unreadable. Therefore you shoved them under your sweatshirt on a whim.

‘Noona! Noona, it’s time to go!’ You heard your best friend calling for you and you stilled, contemplating whether you should have pretended that you hadn’t heard him and checked one more room or let him know where you were. He must have calculated with finding you, he knew how you got when you… ‘Noona, we have to get out of here!’

You closed your eyes and let out a displeased sigh. You should have met them upstairs, close to the front door. If Shota was in the basement, it meant you hardly had any minute to waste. Even if the digital numbers in the upper right corner of your phone’s screen said otherwise.

‘I’m coming!’ You shouted on your way to the hallway, giving a resigned look to the rest of the basement, to all those closed doors you hadn’t had a chance to open, then ran towards Shota’s voice. It came from the stairs that led to the ground floor.

The question of what had happened that you needed to leave twenty minutes sooner was on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t have a chance to say it aloud. The moment you opened your mouth, your best friend grabbed your wrist and pulled you in the opposite direction from the main entrance, confusion making you uncharacteristically obedient and unresponsive.

You didn’t question him when he shoved you inside a dirty restroom, nor did you ask a single thing when Keeho emerged from one of the toilet cubicles. You simply let the older boy take the lead and help with your balance when you stepped on top of a half-broken plastic toilet lid that was supposed to support your weight and made you tall enough to reach the edge of the open window on the tiled wall.

‘You really think I can…’ pull myself up; you wanted to ask, but before you could have finished your question, someone grabbed your arms from the outside and got you out of the building with one swift movement.

With a scream stuck in the back of your throat, you looked down at Jiung with slightly parted lips and gulped nervously when your gaze fell on your palm atop of his chest. You swore, you could feel his heart beating like crazy under your palm, your own mimicking the rhythm and pushing enough blood to your neck and cheeks to turn them ruby red.

‘Get up! We’re running out of time.’ It was Shota whose voice pulled you back to the present, but you were sure, even without stealing a glance at the boy on your right, that it was Keeho who pulled you off Jiung and pulled you towards the iron fences.

You stumbled in the dark, unaware of when you had lost your flashlight and whether the guys had turned theirs off on purpose. By the time your friends deemed that you were far enough from the facility, your lungs were screaming for a break and every breath felt like you were inhaling pieces of broken glass.

‘What the hell happened?’ You demanded, even though it seemed you were the only one who thought your frustration and anger were justified.

‘That your stupid obsession almost got us in trouble, that’s what happened,’ Jiung screamed at your face, a few drops of saliva landing on your burning cheek due to your close proximity. You balled up your fists, your knuckles turning white from how hard you clenched them.

‘Shota said it was safe! And I don’t remember asking you to join us,’ you retorted as calmly as you could manage with the growing annoyance you were feeling.

Sure, you knew trespassing had been a gamble, that you had been going against everything you believed in just to prove a point, but you had done nothing inside that damned building that could have put everyone in danger. Whatever had happened it hadn’t been on you, you refused to believe it.

‘It was the USB. We found a bunch of them in one of the offices, but one of them was still plugged into a smashed PC, so I pulled it out,’ Shota confessed at the same time Keeho said:

‘I think I broke a lock I shouldn’t have.’

You closed your eyes, heaving. Honestly, the second option sounded more possible, but you felt like stating the obvious or calling Jiung out on his freaking tendency to put the blame on you would have done more harm than good. The atmosphere was already tense, making it worse while you were still relatively close to the crime scene would have been stupid.

‘It’s okay, it doesn’t matter,’ you concluded because crying over spilled milk would have been just as idiotic. You had gotten in and out without encountering any of the guards, no one had known your faces, your identities were safe. You might have felt bitter about leaving so soon, but at the end of the day, you were all unharmed and that was what mattered.

You straightened your back and opened your eyes.

‘Let’s go home,’ you exclaimed and shot a genuine smile in Shota’s direction to soothe the guilt that was written all over his face.

When Jiung bumped into your shoulder on purpose, you gritted your teeth, but followed him towards the main road. You decided not to ask him whether he had found anything useful as you were sure he wouldn’t have told you even if he had done, and pointed at your tummy with a mischievous wink when Shota did the same with his pockets where he hid the old USB sticks.

You might not have been able to check everything you had wanted, but your mission hadn’t been a complete failure, after all. And that… that sure as hell made you feel like you had accomplished something.

A couple of days later, you were in the university library, working on your assignment on the live court show’s effects on the judicial system and the shift of responsibility the DIKE app had contributed to when citizens had been given the power to decide the defendants were guilty or not guilty, when Choi Jiung walked up to your table and shut down your laptop with a fixed combination of keys. To say you were furious would have been an understatement. You were livid.

‘Do you want to die? The hell is wrong with you?’ You spat, pushing yourself into a standing position in an attempt to look more intimidating despite still being significantly shorter than the boy. It didn’t matter. Anger could take people farther than one would have thought.

Instead of answering your question with words, Jiung threw a small pile of papers on your desk. You looked down at it with narrowed eyes before you took it in your hand. There was no need for you to scan through the provocatively phrased paragraphs. Just by looking at the header, you knew it was your thesis abstract.

‘Where did you get this?’ You asked, trying not to wrinkle the document in case it was indeed the original copy that you had put on your professor’s table in the teachers’ office after your last class.

‘Do you want to die?’ He threw the question back at you, his tone just as angry as yours even though the flames in his eyes burned with a different colour. He seemed a lot more serious rather than borderline panicking. His reaction closed up your throat, but you kept your chin high to prove a point. ‘I’m serious! You can’t be this stupid, can you?’

You took a shallow breath, then another one and another one for good measure before you crouched down for your bag and shoved your laptop inside of it.

‘You saw that place. They’re guarding it for a reason. Even if you really didn’t find anything on the first floor…’ You took another breath to calm yourself. You still had time before your next class, so you could put the abstract back on your professor’s desk like Jiung had never put his hands on it.

‘You can’t become a judge with this mindset. It’s anti-nationalist,’ he pressed, stopping you with his fingers hanging around your wrist like a chain. You shook it off, his rough touch, and turned around to look him in the eyes.

‘I’m ashamed of you. People like you should never be allowed to become a judge in the first place,’ you said, quiet enough to not draw anyone’s attention, but loud enough to hurt.

You meant it: every word. Those people who deliberately turned a blind eye on the flaws in the stories the system tried to feed you with, on the government’s wrongdoings just because it was easier, shouldn’t have been given power to decide who deserved a severe punishment for breaking the law and who acted upon self-preservation. 

The two of you kept eye contact for longer than it was necessary, therefore you were about to turn your back on Jiung when you got a text via kakao. With furrowed eyebrows, you fished the device out of your pocket and checked the incoming messages.

shota 😤: “don’t come home!” shota 😤: “i’m serious” shota 😤: “stay with the hyungs”

The urgency in his double texts made you feel alarmed, so you sent a quick message to both Shota and Keeho, then threw your phone into your bag and rushed out of the library.

There was no way you would let your best friend deal with whatever trouble he was in on his own when you had a good guess where he was and it was clearly too big for him to handle it alone.

Jiung tried not to think too much into it when you didn’t show up at class the day after you had stormed out of the library. He really tried not to panic when he couldn’t see you at any of your favourite places around campus, although he was familiar with your schedule and habits: when you preferred the university library over the coffee shop, which classes you would have never skipped for the world and how many papers you had to submit before the upcoming midterms.

It wasn’t unusual that you didn’t pick up the phone to him, so he didn’t even bother after the first futile attempt, aware of the line he had crossed when he had taken your thesis abstract that he shouldn’t have even read, but when even Soul refused to read his messages, he knew something was off. The boy would have never ignored his hyungs just because he might have taken your side. At least, he had never done so before and god, the younger sided with you almost all the time.

Lacking any better idea, Jiung dialled Keeho’s number, letting out a relieved breath when the older picked up the phone after the second ring.

‘Have you heard from Soul? His bestie hasn’t shown up at uni since last week,’ he started without beating around the bush, too frustrated (and worried) to prolong the conversation. He wanted to know that you were both okay and his worst nightmare hadn’t come true despite your stubbornness.

Had you gotten in trouble with the authorities because of your big mouth? Who had you been texting to before you had turned your back on him?

‘Not since last week. He said he would be out of town for a couple of days,’ Keeho answered. ‘Same for the firecracker. She texted that she’s worried about Shota, but then she claimed everything was fine, so I didn’t ask,’ he explained, not going into too much detail about why he hadn’t pushed when he was so overprotective of the babies of their group. Jiung knew the older boy was balancing two jobs to provide for not only himself, but Jongseob, too. Life was tough ever since the youngest had run away from home.

If you had told Keeho things were okay, Jiung understood why he had chosen to believe you and stay at his workplace or steal himself an hour of extra sleep.

‘Did he say where he was going?’ Jiung asked, wondering whether he was overreacting or the nagging voice inside of his head was right about you. Even if he doubted you considered him as a friend, he would have liked to believe that he knew the core of your personality. There was no way you would have deliberately ditched your studies when you had worked so hard to get accepted on scholarship.

‘No,’ came the answer after a momentary break, silence filled with pangs of distress. ‘Why?’

‘I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling about this. I’ll go and check their place,’ Jiung said, checking his timetable and deciding against showing up at his last class as it wasn’t a seminar and most importantly, it wasn’t a lecture he was sharing with you.

‘Now?’

‘Now,’ he nodded out of habit as he threw the strap of his messenger bag over his head and put on his cap.

‘I’ll be there in an hour. Wait for me!’ Keeho asked and Jiung let out a loud, affirmative hum before he hung up the phone.

The blond boy didn’t waste any time. He called a cab with his kakao app and asked the driver to drive as fast as he could once he got inside the car. He promised to double the fare if the old man got to your place in under an hour (which would have been an achievement in itself in the afternoon traffic).

‘We have arrived, mister,’ the taxi driver announced and Jiung indeed paid plenty before he jumped out of the car and rushed upstairs. He had only ever been to your place once, when it had been your birthday in freshman year of uni and Soul had organised you a surprise party with your favourite strawberry cake and a second-hand laptop for your studies. Jiung couldn’t remember anymore what he had bought for you. Had he even bought you anything? 

He shook his head. That wasn’t important at that moment. Making sure you were alright and simply avoiding him was.

The first alarming sign was how easy it was to get inside your flat: all Jiung needed to do was push down the handle and the door was open. He didn’t need a key, a keycard or a passcode. His heart sank into his stomach when he crossed the threshold.

Jiung needed to bite into his lips to not make the mistake most people made on tv whenever they found themselves in a similar situation. Because as ridiculous as it sounded, his first instinct was to call for your name and announce his arrival, which would have been stupid. What if someone was here? He really shouldn’t have done that.

So he didn’t. Instead, he took off his shoes and checked every room as silently as possible until he made sure he was alone. Then, he started to go through your stuff systematically: skimming your mails, searching through your drawers and desk, rummaging your bathroom while simultaneously trying to not invade your privacy and finding clues about where you had been and what had happened. He was in the middle of looking for hidden compartments in your walls when Keeho arrived.

‘Is anyone here?’ The older boy asked, coaxing an unamused scoff out of Jiung with his loud question. Of course, he was acting like every idiot in a horror movie who was about to die.

‘Bedroom,’ Jiung grumbled, keeping his focus on the task in hand. He vaguely remembered Soul bragging about the coolest compartments he had installed in both of your flats, so that you could have hid your cash there and never gotten robbed. They had to be big enough to store a handful of stolen USB sticks. If only he could have known for sure there was nothing on them that would want dangerous people to make you disappear.

‘What happened here?’ Keeho asked, clearly taken aback by the state of your room.

Jiung didn’t bother to look around. He knew damn well the disaster he had left behind when he had started to get more and more frustrated, too impatient to put everything back to its place when they hadn’t given him the answers he was looking for.

‘The kimbap in her fridge went wrong days ago. She wouldn’t have left it there if she’d had a choice,’ the blond boy stated and it was ridiculous really, how sure he was in certain things when it came to you. But he just knew. He had caught you eating food you didn’t enjoy just because you had already paid for it or it had been for free. Even if you had been in a hurry, you wouldn’t have left it there to rot.

‘You sound pretty paranoid. And worried,’ Keeho commented, but walked up to your bedside table without much questioning and moved it aside. Then, he knocked on the beige wall a few times, gaining Jiung’s attention when suddenly, the thud gave a different sound.

Jiung crawled towards the bed on his hands and knees, reaching for the content of the hidden compartment once his friend opened it with ease that showed he knew exactly what he was doing. In small stacks, there were a couple of 5000 and 10000 won bills, less in total than the amount of Jiung’s allowance had gotten regularly in middle school.

Jiung’s throat closed up when his eyes fell on the custom-made keychain he had forgotten a long time ago, the one he had given you for your birthday and the one that sat on top of a pile of dirty papers. He took it into his hand and shoved it into his pocket before he skimmed the documents. On each page, they had the Dream House’s stamp on their upper left corners, which meant you might have found these in the facility’s basement.

Damnit! You had never mentioned you had found something that night, let alone something that looked like trouble.

‘What do they say?’ Keeho’s question came from Jiung’s right, your worn bed cracking under the older boy’s weight. 

‘At first glance? That they are lucky if they’re in the countryside,’ the younger answered, his heart rate picking up because of the dreadful pictures his brain was throwing at him about you and Soul behind bars, the two of you in separate interrogation rooms, powerful people trying to break you to turn against each other.

Jiung looked around in search of his backpack, then stood up and lifted it off the floor, so that he could shove the documents between two books he had been supposed to take back to the university library. They didn’t matter anymore. You and Soul did.

‘Where are you going?’ Keeho asked, and while Jiung had a concrete destination in mind, he was contemplating whether he should have told the other the whole truth. Keeho hadn’t seen the late president’s name on the documents yet and while Jiung would have also needed more time to figure out what you had gotten yourself into exactly, he had a vague idea. He didn’t want to put his friend in more danger in case he was right.

On the other hand, he was aware how important Soul was to Keeho. Obviously, the older boy cared about each one of his close friends, even people he deemed honest and kind, but Soul was like a brother to him. If Jiung had been in his shoes, he would have resented whoever kept secrets this serious from him.

‘I’ll ask Jiseong if he heard anything,’ he settled for the truth, albeit giving a curt answer. He would cross that bridge when he got there. For the time being, he didn’t want to complicate things even more. Not to mention that his step-brother would have scolded him and might have outright refused to tell him any details if he had shown up at his office with someone who had nothing to do with their family or their social circle.

After meeting you, Jiung had started to question whether he was able to read other people as well as his family expected him to, but recognizing the fine mixture of doubt, hurt and worry in Keeho’s eyes was too easy.

‘You will call me,’ the words came out pseudo-commanding, like the boy knew no objection, but Jiung noticed the pinch of uncertainty that made Keeho’s voice crack by the end, turning the statement into a semi-question. He didn’t call him out on his lack of faith in his character, mostly because Jiung himself was unsure of numerous things, too, regarding the situation.

Therefore, he settled for a nod instead of a verbal promise and left the building. The papers in his backpack felt heavy, like rocks that were trying to pull him underwater, but nothing could have compared to the weight of the abandoned keychain in his pocket that you, for some reason, had kept at the same place you kept your treasures.

After a failed attempt at the District Court, Jiung decided to wait for his step-brother at his home office, which was basically a separate room on the second floor in their house, between their parents’ offices and across from his own study room. Aware of the importance of respect and good manners even when one wasn’t out in public, he knocked on the mahogany door and counted to three, seven, ten, before he entered.

Since the boy’s plan was to ask a few questions from his hyung about the Dream House Medical Centre and whether there had been any attempts at breaking into the abandoned building in the last couple of years - the more general his curiosity appeared to be, the safer for you and Soul -, he decided to jot down every aspect he needed to touch upon and tried to make the inquiries sound as academic and neutral as possible while he was waiting. A written list could have helped him make it look like he was working on an assignment of some sort.

Taking a seat by the massive desk in the left corner of the room, Jiung pulled out the upper drawer, looking for a piece of paper. He knew it was a little old-fashioned, that he could have taken notes on his phone as well, but there was something about a piece of blank paper that stimulated his brain. Thoughts and ideas came easier when he could feel the material against the mounts of his palm and the weight of the pen in his hand.

Jiung didn’t intend to pry. Why would he have? He had been raised to trust his family above everyone and everything and put his faith in the system blindly as his relatives had important roles in it for generations. However, it was undeniable that it was your thesis abstract staring back at him from the top of a smaller pile of papers in Jiseong’s drawer. Jiung needed to take it into his hands.

He didn’t have to read through the lines to make sure the paragraphs had been written by you. Even though your name was crossed out with a black marker, he knew it was yours. He had read your abstract before. God! He had told you it would have gotten you in trouble. He had just never assumed that his hyung would have also been involved in this mess somehow.

Desperate to not jump to false conclusions, Jiung put the document back into the drawer and closed it carefully. He leaned the back of his head against the chair and closed his eyes, trying to even his breathing. He couldn’t have allowed himself to act suspicious or else his brother would have kicked him out of his office before he could have uttered a single word.

‘What are you doing here?’ Jiseong’s thunderous voice filled the room, pulling the blond boy out of his messy thoughts. Jiung snapped his head in his brother’s direction, resisting the urge to gulp down the nervous knot in his throat or put on a fake smile.

‘Homework,’ he explained with his fidgety fingers clenched into fists and hidden under the desk. He needed to stop thinking about your abstract in the drawer and how it could have gotten there for not only his own sake, but yours and Soul’s as well. He had never been a man of emotions, he couldn’t have allowed to become one in such a delicate situation. ‘I mean, I need some answers I couldn’t find on the internet, nor in any of the books in the uni library,’ he added when his answer met with silence, putting effort into relaxing his tense muscles.

‘I see,’ Jiseong muttered, not taking his hawk eyes off his younger brother while he walked closer to the desk and along with it, to Jiung. The young man’s arms were crossed in front of his chest; his tailored suit devoid of any wrinkles. ‘Ask away then.’

Jiung wished he had had more time to prepare himself for this conversation. Sure, the boy had wanted to get over with the interrogation as soon as possible when he had decided to seek his hyung out right after he had left your flat, but that had been before he had found your thesis abstract. With this new discovery, he felt unprepared.

‘It’s common knowledge that the Dream House has been abandoned since judge Kang Yohan tried to use it to overthrow the government,’ he started with a well-known statement to steal himself a couple of more seconds. He usually used this method during presentations because talking about things he was certain about did wonders to his jittery nerves, but this time, the academic tone had no positive effect. The lingering uncertainty poisoned his confidence. ‘It’s heavily guarded, though. Why?’

‘Use your brain, Jiung-ah. Why do you think it needs to be guarded up to this day?’ The man asked in a chastising tone. It reminded Jiung of school breaks in the countryside that they had spent with their grandparents. It reminded Jiung of summer days when he had falsely thought he could have acted his age without unpleasant consequences.

He frowned, but gave a serious thought to the question and answered with his chin held high.

‘So people wouldn’t break in,’ he chose, because even before breaking into the Dream House and rummaging through the first floor, he had doubted there had been something or someone kept in there that could have escaped. Which could have only meant that the government wanted to keep people from entering.

‘And?’

Jiung furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, wondering whether his brother knew he had been there, inside the medical centre, when you had put your hands on those documents. Was there a specific answer Jiseong was expecting from him? Or should he have played it safe and pretended he didn’t know about the late president’s involvement in something that had gotten you in so much trouble, you and Soul had disappeared off the face of Earth?

‘There are people in our country who believe Kang Yohan was some sort of saint who wanted to protect the powerless from corruption even though he couldn’t have cared less about the poor and unprivileged,’ the young judge stated, destroying the remaining distance between himself and his brother. Jiseong put his palms on his desk and leaned closer to Jiung with a predatory glint in his hazel eyes. Like he was staring at a pitiful prey instead of someone he had to treasure and protect. ‘It’s guarded, so those with anti-nationalist ideas wouldn’t turn it into their own sacred place,’ he said, forcing the younger to hold his breath and listen. ‘They would crowd it. It would give them a place with meaning for gatherings and suddenly, their preaching would gain more credibility.’

At that moment, as he was staring at his step-brother, the blond boy couldn’t help but think of you and your reaction whenever he had said something to defend the system. He wondered whether he had sounded just as biassed and inimical to you as Jiseong did to him while he was talking about faceless people and their hypothetical actions when they hadn’t committed said crime yet.

He wondered whether the fact that he added that harmless “yet” at the end of the sentence in his head meant he was indeed the same.

‘Has anyone ever broken into that building?’ Jiung asked partly to cut the tension that grew with the silence, partly to check the credibility of his hyung’s words.

Jiseong took his hands off the desk and straightened his back. He shot a small smile in Jiung’s way and shook his head.

‘Never. Like you said, it’s heavily guarded. You have nothing to be worried about,’ he said, slowly loosing his necktie, piercing gaze poking holes into the skin between the younger’s eyes. ‘Any other questions?’

There were. Jiung had plenty of questions starting with why was your abstract in his drawer, what had they done to you and Soul, whether you two had been the first ones who had been dealt with this drastically or there were others, people who had no connection to people like Jiung who came from an influential family. However, putting these thoughts in words would have done more harm than good and Jiung wasn’t an idiot. He might have doubted Jiseong would have been able to make him disappear or it was really him who had been behind all of this, but Jiung knew he wasn’t untouchable.

‘No, nothing. Thanks,’ so he said and stood up from the chair as casually as he could manage before he bent down and picked up his backpack from the floor. He bowed to his brother like he always did when he was greeting his family members or saying goodbye to them, then straightened his back and waited to be dismissed, showing respect to his elder as he had been taught.

‘Go, wash up! It’s almost dinner time,’ Jiseong said and patted his brother’s shoulder once, twice, three times, before he turned his back on Jiung.

The younger didn’t hesitate to leave the room afterwards.

The thing was, whether his step-brother knew that Jiung had broken into the Dream House with you and the boys or not, Jiseong had lied to him. He also had your thesis abstract, the very same document Jiung had given back to you the day he had last seen you, which was more than a little concerning. Therefore, despite his own beliefs, Jiung needed to figure out what was going on and how deep his hyung was in the mess you had also gotten yourself and Soul into.

He needed to know you two were okay. The sooner, the better.

If anyone had caught the boy sneaking into his brother’s home office instead of attending his classes, Jiung would have been cursed out, then dragged into his room and locked up for several weeks. He knew because he had been driven to school and back home for a whole month in high school when his father had found out that he had drunk a beer with his friend in public despite being underaged. They had done it at a park where they had thought no one had been paying any mind to them, but they had been dead wrong as his then-friend’s mother had sent one of her secretaries to keep an eye on her son and they had gotten caught before they could have decided whether they had wanted to open the second can. The tension at home after that had been so messed up, Jiung hadn’t dared to break any rules for years.

That was, until he had met you.

Rummaging through Jiseong’s drawers turned out to be fruitless. Other than stationeries and a bunch of files about ongoing cases at the court, there was nothing to put his hands on, which was weird. Why wasn’t your paper in the upper drawer anymore?

Kneeling on the floor, Jiung leaned his forehead against the edge of the desk and closed his eyes. Looking through his hyung’s things was one thing. Should he have really logged into his computer, too? That sounded too extreme, but then again. The boy had already trespassed on government property just to keep an eye on you and make sure you were fine. He could have always claimed he needed Jiseong’s laptop for whatever excuse his mind would have provided at the time of need.

Letting out a troubled sigh, Jiung could hear your last words to him ringing in his ears. If he had decided to turn a blind eye on the weird happenings now, he would have turned into what you had hated the most in people like him. People with the proper background to make a real difference, but no desire to change what was wrong. He might have refused to believe you had been right about everything, nor did he think he was a bad person just because his values and beliefs were different from yours, but he couldn’t have lied to himself. Something about the Dream House project was fishy.

So Jiung sat on the chair and turned on the computer before he could have lost his courage. He checked every folder and every file systematically, then opened Jiseong’s email services and read through his mails, too. The more he saw, the less suspicious his brother appeared to be and the more guilty he felt, but it was too late to turn back. So he kept reading, until he did find something.

It was a forwarded email Jiseong had never replied to or if he had done so, he had already deleted the evidence. The original letter was a report on the break-in to the medical centre; the person claimed there had been three or four suspects, but no gender, approximate age or physical features had been stated. The first response was about the punishment of the guards who had been working that night; the second one was an ID number; the third said: it’s done. Collateral damage: one person.

Jiung’s hands were trembling slightly when in the last email attached to the conversation there was a follow-up report from his uncle. It had been sent at five in the morning, mere hours ago, and it said they were ready for shipping.

‘What the…’ he murmured under his nose, finding it hard to process that these people might have been talking about you.

Jiung deleted the search history and closed the browser. He turned off the computer and took a moment to think. Should he have visited his uncle’s researcher centre on his own or should he have told Keeho about these emails like he knew the older boy wanted him to? Should he have tried to figure out what was going on in the legal way or gone behind his uncle’s back, too, lacking spare time to waste? What had they meant by shipping anyway?

Before he left the office, Jiung took a quick look at the interior from above his shoulder, then stepped out to the hallway and fished his phone out of his pocket. He called Keeho and when it went to voicemail, he sent the older boy a cryptic text about how he needed him as soon as possible.

A rational part of Jiung was aware he needed backup, but he wouldn’t have waited hours just to hear back from his friend.

Luckily, Keeho had reached out to Jiung within an hour, hence the two boys could meet up at the 7-Eleven across from the research centre around three. If Jiung wanted to be honest, it was the worst time either of them could have picked: it wasn’t close to lunch break nor did it align with anything else that could have drawn the attention from them, but he didn’t want to wait until closing time. He wanted to check every room on every floor as soon as possible in case, for some reason, you and Soul were in there.

The more he thought about it, the more this place seemed like the perfect cover-up and this thought drove him up the wall.

‘Sorry we’re late,’ a familiar voice demanded attention, followed by a loud, screeching sound as the intruder pulled out the metal chair and sat next to Jiung. Intak’s smile was too wide for the older boy’s liking, but at least it didn’t look genuine. The visible distress that blended into his friend’s cheery facial expression made Jiung feel less paranoid even though he would have gladly accepted that he was overreacting and let the guys make fun of him if that had meant you and Soul were chilling somewhere in the countryside.

‘Why are you here in the first place?’ Jiung asked, his gaze sliding from Intak to Theo who also took a seat by the table in the meantime.

‘Duh. Cause I’m the best thief you know and you’re about to break into the enemy’s lair in broad daylight?’ Intak’s question was dripping with sarcasm, his cold tone making it sound more like a statement. Jiung bit back a nasty comment about how Soul would exceed him in no time with his connections all across the city because thinking of the younger came hand in hand with thinking of you and he couldn’t have that.

Jiung put his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. He raised a brow as he looked at Theo, the silent question why he was there hanging in the air.

At first, Theo’s response was no more than a shrug, but as the tension became palpable, he let out a defeated sigh. It was clear, he didn’t think he needed to explain himself, especially because both Soul and you were a part of their friends group.

‘Someone’ll need to stand guard.’ It wasn’t something Jiung could argue with even though he would have liked to believe that even if they had gotten caught, his connection to the head of the institute could have gotten them out of trouble. The thing was, he couldn’t say it for sure anymore and this uncertainty and his sudden lack of trust in his own blood were stressing him out. If the boy’s thoughts hadn’t returned to your disappearance every two minutes, he might have already broken down due to the revelations he had needed to face in the last twenty-four hours.

‘Cool. Now, let’s order something and talk about the plan,’ Intak proposed, earning a judging side-eye from Jiung and a frown from Keeho when he pushed his chair back, making more space for himself to be able to stand up and walk up to the counter. ‘What? You chose a café for this group meeting. It’s pretty suspicious if we don’t order anything,’ he put his weight on his palms, leaning closer to the boys over the table.

Jiung let out a scoff.

‘I’ll have one small iced cappuccino,’ Keeho broke the growing silence before he changed his mind. ‘You know what? I’m coming with you. We’ll be back in a minute.’

Instead of following his friends with his eyes, Jiung’s gaze stuck on the massive building on the other side of the road. He couldn’t not feel like in a matter of mere hours, the life he had been living would cease to exist for good. Whether because his own uncle and step-brother were parts of a mafia-like system he had been blind to all this time or because he had chosen to betray them when he had decided to paint them as the enemy, it didn’t matter. Their bond that had been built on trust would break beyond repair once Jiung broke into the research centre. It might have already done so when he had read through his hyung’s emails.

‘You won’t turn on us, will you?’ Theo’s question pulled the blond boy back to the present, his sharp eyes cutting deep into his being. He didn’t blame his friend, though, even if the assumption that he would have left them behind to save himself was offensive.

His pride could take this much.

‘I want to get them back,’ Jiung said firmly, hoping that the sincerity in his voice would be enough and Theo didn’t expect him to come up with a whole monologue about how he was ready to go against his own family and burn Seoul down to the ground to find you. Because honestly, he wasn’t ready for any of those. He wasn’t ready to face the elephant in the room.

‘And that’s what we’ll do,’ Keeho patted the blond boy’s shoulder, taking a seat next to Theo while Intak sat back on the empty metal chair on Jiung’s side. He slid a small cup of black coffee towards the younger and took a sip from his mint choco frappé.

‘Which part of the building we want to infiltrate first?’ Intak asked and Jiung also let out an amused laugh when he saw the other boy fishing out a worn laptop from his backpack. Neat, serious and responsible weren’t adjectives Jiung would have ever used to describe his hyung, but he sure took this job seriously. It was actually pretty impressive.

‘The sixth floor and the basement. You need a special keycard to get to both or the elevator won’t start,’ Jiung said, going into more details about the security system although his knowledge was very limited. He had been in the research centre only twice and both times he had been left with his father’s secretary in the canteen while his father and uncle had been talking about business.

The soft clatter of the keyboard filled the air and embraced Jiung with its normality; he took a sip from his coffee and let the warmth spread in his body. He might have hated the thought of his friends getting in trouble because of his fixation on your sudden disappearance, but a selfish part of him found solace in their presence. He wasn’t alone.

‘Okay guys, we’ll do it this way,’ Intak spoke up after a couple of mumbled swear words and a delighted hum that reverberated through all of them. He pushed the laptop further from himself so that everyone could take a look at the screen, then pointed at the live footage of one of the security cameras inside the building. ‘Based on their social media posts and public appearances, these two researchers are the easiest to lead on. Out of the two, this one here, Dr. Kim Ryeowook is the one who possesses one of the six magic cards to the elevator.’

‘You figured these all out, skimming through a few Facebook posts?’ Jiung raised a brow and it was actually Theo who shook his head first, reaching out to the laptop and clicking on the tab next to the one everyone was staring at.

‘Actually, it’s a text analysis software we still need to work on with Beomgyu for one of our classes. Once it’s finished, it’ll help people make decisions, like solving complex problems for them, based on the imported information,’ he explained, slapping Intak’s hands away so that he could check the accuracy of the information.

‘Oh, okay! That’s cool,’ Jiung nodded to himself, letting the guy overwrite what he needed to overwrite before he confirmed the prediction.

Dr. Kim Ryeowook. The man was currently walking down the hallway on the second floor. If they were lucky, they could snatch his keycard and sneak it back into his coat’s oversized pocket before his shift ended around six.

Jiung’s heart was about to explode when the elevator’s doors closed behind their back and he caught sight of the sterile interior of the sixth floor. As they were running low on time, he was only with Keeho while Intak searched through the basement, his humming deafening even from the other side of the call that kept them connected.

‘Could you please focus? Look for papers, anything about shipping can be important,’ Jiung scolded his friend while they walked down the eerie hallways that led from the elevator to the laboratories. Although they were both dressed in the white coats of the researchers’ uniform, the boy couldn’t have said he felt disguised enough. In fact! He felt as though they were both sticking out like sore thumbs. They were walking too slowly, the caution in their steps almost alarming.

‘I don’t know about you, guys, but I don’t think they’re storing papers in here,’ Intak’s voice sounded almost pained before his words got replaced by a very forced, very loud coughing fit. Jiung furrowed his eyebrows and exchanged a glance with Keeho.

‘What are yo—’

‘Fuck! Is this a freaking liver?’ Intak asked in terror, his question tugging on Jiung’s insides forcefully, making him nauseas. Because while it was a known fact that the employees at his uncle’s research centre were looking for ways to cure incurable diseases, Jiung would have never thought their vaccines and experimental medicines were tested on human organs. Sure, it must have been less cruel than testing them on living, breathing people, but the method still sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

Looking at Keeho and listening to Intak’s uneven breathing, his friends had to be of the same opinion.

‘Guys, some of the organs have the same set of numbers…’ Intak didn’t have to finish the sentence, it was obvious what that meant. Yet, he still forced the words out. ‘I think they belonged to the same person. Livers, kidneys, hearts. The list is endless,’ he said.

Jiung hadn’t realised he was shaking until Keeho wrapped his fingers around his wrist and stopped the uncontrollable trembling of his left arm.

‘Don’t touch anything. Take pictures if you can, but stay alert,’ Keeho instructed, then pulled Jiung forwards.

The two picked up their pace and walked down the hallway with purpose in each one of their steps. When they reached the first door on the left side, Jiung reached for the handle with his sweater paw covering his hand, then pushed it down so that they could enter.

Inside, there were two dozens of hospital beds, unconscious people tied to the meal structure of the furniture, high-tech machines monitoring their vitals. It shouldn’t have been as scary as it felt with the eerie silence filling the atmosphere.

‘Do you thin—’

Jiung didn’t let Keeho finish his question. He had to stay focused; if the older boy had asked him whether you and Soul were in one of these rooms, in one of these beds, his thoughts would have tried to come up with an answer and ended up being all over the place.

‘I’ll check the beds on the left,’ the blond boy volunteered, simultaneously praying that you weren’t one of these people and that you were here so he could get you out of here.

Jiung’s movements were frantic by the time he got to the last patient - victim? - at the end of the row without being able to touch you. He snapped his head towards Keeho who was taking pictures of the sick, fighting his frustrated tears, in hope of good news.

Neither of you was in the room. Or in the next one, or in the third.

‘I found him! Jiung, quick!’ Keeho exclaimed, his hands already working on detaching the machine from Soul’s fragile body. Jiung could taste bile in his mouth when he saw the bloody dressing around the pale boy’s torso. He couldn’t see the wound and he had never been particularly good at Biology, but he had a faint idea that the red line across the textile was somewhere around his friend’s right kidney.  

‘Hy-hyung,’ Soul mumbled weakly, his half-lidded eyes barely open and his lips a mixture of lilac and blue as his head fell on Keeho’s shoulder. It took everything in Jiung to not throw his million questions at him about you and his family members like a spoiled child.

‘It’s okay. We’ll get you out of here. You’re safe now,’ the older boy whispered against the boy’s temple, then looked around, searching for something. Jiung couldn’t stop thinking of… ‘That wheelchair! Jiung-ah, we need to put Shota into that wheelchair.’

The urgency in Keeho’s voice pulled Jiung back to the present and he rushed to the other side of the room to get one of the wheelchairs for Soul. Keeho was right, there was no way they could have sneaked their friend out of the research centre when he was in a half-unconscious state. A patient in a wheelchair might have been a tad less suspicious than a lax body hanging from their shoulder. Though, a voice in the back of his mind said neither was a common sight in the building.

Jiung’s entire body tensed up when Intak dropped the phone on the other side of the call. The younger’s curses and his desperate ‘No, no, no!’ froze his blood even though Intak’s voice was barely above a whisper due to the sudden distance between him and the electronic device.

Contemplating whether he should have helped Keeho with Soul or pleaded Intak to give them an explanation of what was going on in the basement, Jiung let out a frustrated sigh while he was keeping the wheelchair in place.

‘Intak! Intak! What’s wrong?’ Jiung tried to gain the boy’s attention, but it wasn’t working. So they exchanged a worried glance with Keeho and came up with a plan: they checked the last room on the sixth floor, then the older got Soul out of the building while Jiung went down the basement to collect their friend (and whatever he might have found or encountered with).

Jiung hoped it wasn’t one of the security guards who had caught him red-handed, but if it had been, he was Intak’s best chance to get out of trouble. And that was the least he could do for his friend as without him, they might have never gotten to Soul.

The thought that he might have been facing his uncle’s rage at any moment should have been more terrifying. Jiung had no doubt about it that under different circumstances, mere weeks ago, he would have shitted his pants from the presumption that he had messed up so bad, the old man needed to be involved in the situation. But as he was running in search of his friend, passing by shelves full of glass containers and what not, he feared whatever triggered Intak’s uncharacteristic reaction the most.

It didn’t take long for Jiung to find the room with the open door. On the contrary, it became pretty easy once he got within hearing range, because Intak’s painful wailing echoed off the walls and surrounded him on the empty corridor.

Trying to regulate his nerves, the first thing Jiung noticed when he crossed the threshold was how the room was slightly colder than the rest of the basement he had raced through. Then, the sour and irritating smell of vomit and formaldehyde.

‘Intak.’ Jiung crouched down in front of the younger boy, cupping his face with his own, trembling hands, so that the boy could take notice of his presence. He had never been particularly good at comforting others, but he had seen Keeho do it to the boys enough times to have a vague idea about what he should have done.

Jiung pulled his friend’s snotty and tear-stained face against his chest and patted his blade bones gently, for a calming rhythm. Meanwhile, he looked around the room with his chin resting on top of Intak’s head, trying to figure out what could have happened.

‘She… she’s… no-hoh,’ Intak cried out desperately as he grabbed Jiung’s arm and held onto him stronger, body shaking from the threat of another pile of bile-filled vomit. Jiung looked down at the boy and closed his eyes. Should he have reminded him that they had to leave the basement soon? Should he have asked for answers?

Keeho would have rocked him back and forth until he calmed down, but Jiung was afraid they didn’t have enough time.

‘Intak, we need to leave. The keycard, we…’ The rest of the words stuck in Jiung’s throat when Intak pushed him away aggressively, shaking his head and screaming frantically as though the blond boy said something unforgivable.

‘We, no! We have to… we need to! No!’ He protested, crawling backwards on his hands and feet until his head crashed against an open compartment in the wall. With bold, palm-sized characters, there was a number written on it: 0327.

Now that Jiung paid more attention to the odd-looking doors on the right side of the room, his anxiety started to pick up. He pushed himself into a standing position and walked past Intak, trying to take a better look at the inside of the compartment. It must have been the younger who had opened it, which could mean that whatever was in there had triggered his hysterical reaction.

Jiung’s brows were knitted together in confusion when he felt a hand on his ankle. He looked down at his friend, who was shaking his head, mouthing his objections so quietly, the blond boy didn’t hear a word.

He turned back towards the compartment and pulled it entirely open. The piece of white clothing that was hiding the thing underneath was as big as a comforter. Although it brought no warmth or comfort when removing it, Jiung’s gaze fell on a pile of chewed out skin. There were no bones, no organs inside the violated corpse, only damaged skin and a head with more stitches, indicating that he couldn’t have found the brain inside of the skull, either.

Jiung fell on his knees when he recognized the ghost of your features on the corpse’s face. He coughed up bile and that little food he had in his stomach before the first tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt sick.

Neither of the boys could have told how long they were cursing and crying in that room with your corpse mere centimetres from them, but at one point Intak’s ringtone overpowered their sobs and pulled them out of their heads. Although Intak was closer, it was Jiung who reached out for the abandoned device and received the call, his voice hoarse and weak that did barely a thing to alarm the caller on the other side.

‘What the hell guys! You have to get out of there! Dr. Kim is already looking for his keycard, they are on their way to the sixth floor and I’m pretty sure the basement will be the next,’ Keeho said, panic and worry evident in each one of his words.

Jiung looked at Intak, then shifted his gaze to the open compartment. A part of him knew that there was no way they could have taken your remains without throwing up at each corner on the way out, that letting the others see you like this, especially Soul, would have traumatised them for life. He was also aware that as stubborn as you were - had been -, you would have wanted him to pull himself together and get the hell out of there before those who had done this to you would have done the same with the people you cared - had cared - about.

But it was so freaking hard to leave you there or to get up from the floor.

‘Are you listening to me? Please, guys, come out! Whatever there is, it’s not worth it, please, guys, please!’ Keeho was pleading, forcing Jiung’s limbs to move.

‘We’re on our way, hyung. Stop worrying so much,’ he forced out the sassy reply to ease the older’s nerves before he hung up the call and shoved the phone into his pocket.

Considering that cleaning up their vomit wasn’t an option, Jiung didn’t bother with checking the room for potential evidence they could have left behind. On the other hand, he put the textile back on your corpse and made sure the compartment you were laying in was closed before he opened another one and took pictures of another damaged body. He didn’t have the heart to do the same to yours.

Dragging Intak out of the basement was time-consuming and by the time they reached the elevator, Jiung’s muscles were screaming for a break, but he pushed himself until they were out of the building. The boy knew that their initial plan had been to sneak the keycard back into Dr. Kim’s pocket or at least leave it at the reception desk as though someone had found it accidentally at one point of the day, but with the mess they had left in the morgue room, these kinds of details had lost their importance.

Instead, they crossed the street to get to the coffee shop’s parking lot at a speed that didn’t draw too much attention, then got in Theo’s old car and refused to talk about what they had found in the basement until they got somewhere safe in the outskirts of Seoul.

The shocking news of your death lingered around the boys like smoke: sickening, ugly, bad. They couldn’t get rid of it and it threatened their health, especially Soul’s who refused to eat or drink anything for days despite his weak state until Keeho aggressively shoved some plain porridge down his throat.

Intak and Jiung weren’t that much better. Jiung just knew you would have lectured him for his self-harming behaviour if you had seen him skip his meals, so he forced himself to chew and gulp without the slightest care for the taste of the dishes Keeho put on the table. They could have been the saltiest, most disgusting soups and porridges of his life, the boy wouldn’t have noticed.

Although they didn’t know whom they could trust, the boys agreed on one thing: they needed to show the country, if not the world, the real faces of those monsters who led their nation since the first wave of the pandemic. They had to make people see how terrible they were, so horrible, inhuman things like this could have never happened again. 

The problem was that even when they tried to upload the pictures they had taken on the web, they got taken down almost immediately. Then, after two weeks of futile attempts at sharing the evidence with the citizens of South Korea, the news was filled with the same lie on every damned channel: a group of young people committing terrorist acts against the country.

Honestly, Jiung knew that he had burnt down all the bridges when he had chosen his friends and the truth over his family, but seeing his ID picture next to those photos that the people in power had chosen to put on display in the media was numbing. He felt too many emotions at once to distinguish any of them properly. He couldn’t even say he was angry: the word itself did no justice to the thunderstorm inside his chest.

‘We can’t give up now,’ Soul said and Jiung tore his gaze from the screen of his tablet to look at the younger. He still looked so fragile, but as he balled up his fists and opened his mouth for Keeho to feed him some soup, he finally had some colour to his cheeks.

‘We won’t,’ Jiung promised and for the first time in weeks, the silence that followed his statement didn’t drain him. If anything, this newfound determination gave them all another reason to find a way to stop this madness.

Not even twelve hours after their faces were plastered all over the capital city, a girl called Elijah reached out to Jongseob, claiming that she and her uncle had seen the photos Jiung had taken of the damaged corpse before they had gotten taken down and that they wanted to help them fight against the system. It was freaking suspicious and at first, they decided to ignore it altogether. However, when Soul pointed out that Jongseob hadn’t been at the Dream House with them, nor had he joined them when they had broken into the research centre, they talked through their options one more time.

And they decided to follow the instructions of this faceless person towards a place that was promised to be safe for them in two groups just in case it was a trap.

Jiung, Soul and Keeho were the first ones to leave the city. They took Theo’s car, saying one of them would come back for the rest of them if things were really safe, then followed the GPS signals given to them real time by this Elijah girl who hacked into its system.

‘What do you think we will find when we get there?’ Keeho asked from behind the driver’s seat, his voice low on purpose to not wake up Soul who had fallen asleep in the backseat.

Jiung shrugged.

‘Dunno. Two more hours and we’ll find out,’ he stated, looking out the window, taking in the scenery. The countryside looked so peaceful and slow from the inside of the car, but he knew it was only the illusion of obliviousness. He refused to believe that there was any place in this country that hadn’t been corrupted by the government. He knew that the outside world was just as rotten as his life was without the rose-tinted glasses he had been wearing all these years.

Shaking his head, the boy tried not to think about the last conversation he had had with you. Still, he wished he had listened to what you had been saying. He wished he had stopped you when you had turned your back on him and walked away, visibly wary. You had given him so many chances to understand. Yet, here he was, figuring out too late:

History was made by monsters dressed as saints.

the end.

[dreamii-yume]

Hello! ♥︎

I am BACK with another underrated Japanese Yandere Audio Drama ASMR recommendation for y’all~! Because this is all I’ve been doing in my spare time, I have no goddamn excuses on why I haven’t been posting much 🤡 This, my friends, is the reason why I’m so damn inactive these days lol BUT HEY—Please don’t go 🥺 This one is a real fucking gem, Darlings—I don’t understand why it has so little views on Youtube because it has everything I wanted in my hornii. There’s the plot, the smut (It’s not very explicit as to a full-on fucking, because Youtube—Just a few lewd lip sounds, that’s all 🫣 But that’s all I needed to get the neurons working) and there’s kinda some angst in there(?)

Anyway, it’s an hour-long! 🧎‍♀️ I was so happy after I was done listening to it and kinda speechless ngl ☠️ I dug hard for this gem and I’m not about to gatekeep anyone from finding it and sharing the experience (dont ask how i stumbled upon this one though, you dont wanna know how much ive been scrolling on youtube to find this, my friends 🧎‍♀️)

It’s a Yandere Audio Drama that is simply titled “Nya-chan” 🫣 Ominously adorable title, but it’ll make sense as you listened to it. As always, it doesn’t have an english translation as of now which is extremely unfortunate because I think a lot of people would’ve appreciated this more if it does—BUT THAT’S WHY IM HERE EVERYONE 👀👋

So, if you don’t mind—Allow me to spoil you all with what happened with a “brief” summary of it all ♥︎ (EDIT : THIS IS A LIE IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR TWO HOURS) BUT I STILL WANT YOU TO LISTEN TO THIS ART PERSONALLY, the voice actor really did a great job with it 😭 check them out, seriously.

Warning : Implied Non-Con | Implied Dub-Con | Implied Stockholm Syndrome | NTR

Kinda got way too into “translating”/“explaining” this one scene by scene so—It’s very chaotic, so that might get annoying so just a heads up lol

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

The story starts off with You (The listener UwU) meeting your fiance’s little brother for the first time and because you want to be a good future Sister-in-Law, you wanted to spend time and bond with him by partaking in his hobbies. He’s an engineer of some kind, and it seems like he’s a talented cook as well because when he found out that you’re hungry, he made you some pasta 🧎‍♀️You praised him, but he says you’re overreacting cause it’s just pasta lol he’s clearly embarrassed—He sounded like wanted to say something else (Probably wanting to cook more for you if you want ✨👀👉👈) but his brother comes in and interrupted him.

Under his breath, he says “Why does he have to be here of all times” which makes me think that this may not be the first time he knew of us…Or he just—y’know got attached that quick. (It really wasn’t specified 😭 or I might’ve just missed it somewhere 🤡) But ANYWAY, THE NEXT DAY—

You both met again, and he’s surprised that see you and where you work at because it’s close to his (?) You pointed out his office clothes, and he thought you were making fun of him, but was pleasantly surprised to hear you say that he looks good in it and he thanks you for it. Flustered, he changes the subject and ask where your fiance may be because he couldn’t get hold of him lately—It seems like he’s working overtime and he feels kinda bad that you’re going to eat dinner alone, so he sighs and invites you over to his place so he can make you something. He’s a real tsundere at this point of the audio drama, which was very cute lol But he seems like he has a soft-spot for you, because once he saw how you really look like you want to try his cooking again, he caved in quick lmao

At his home, he sarcastically praises your appetite and was impressed by the fact that you’re able to act so close woth him, despite only meeting for the few times lmao we have no shame. Your only reason was because you see him as you’re own younger brother too, and he only hums and scolds you more lol Even though he sounds like he’s all annoyed with you, he still encourages you to still eat more and stop complaining ☠️ He says he can guarantee the taste but plating is not his strongest forte lol

Then, he suddenly asks if you’re gonna contact your fiance anytime soon about this and it seems like you didn’t plan to do that—In which he scolds you again and say that you should, because he (your fiance) might think it’s weird. Again, you told him it’s fine because you’re only hanging out with him like how a big sister would with her younger brother…Here, we can hear that hint of disappointment in his voice as he whispers to himself, “…So you don’t see me as a man then.”

Of course, you didn’t quite hear what he says and asks if he can repeat that, but he says it’s nothing and went back to pressure you to continue eating because the food is getting cold.

After a while, you finally finished eating and he praises you for it…Also teasing you for looking so happy about it too along the way. He scolds you about learning how to cook for yourself sometimes, because you sound like you know what good food tastes like lol You told him that—Yeah, maybe from now on, in which he commented that you sound like someone prolonging their diet for tomorrow ☠️ and that’s the kind of person who usually don’t succeed on what they planned ☠️ someone calm this man down jesus christ, i did not to be called out like that ☠️ You asked him if he could teach you instead, but he refuses because he said he was self-taught and can’t teach for shit, so he tells you to learn it by yourself. Damn bro.

Then, this is where he shifts the conversation towards you instead—He asks where you and his brother met, in which you replied with the Cat Café he often visits and Yandere-kun doesn’t seem surprised lol His brother often invites him there, but he always refuses because he’s not good with crowds—Though he likes cats…AGAIN WITH THE WHISPERING he says “…If only I went with him at that time.” “Maybe I could’ve met you earlier than him.” BOI 👏

You asked him what he’s whispering about, and he denies saying anything like he always does and asked you to continue your love story with his brother. It seems like you met his brother when he was at his clumsiest, accidentally scaring a cat, and the cat made a mess, so you got angry with him. Because of that, you both met a second time for him to help you clean up, and things escalated from there—

Idk, Yandere-kun keeps saying wow that sounds like something out a manga—All sounds like he’s impressed and shit but I have a feeling that he’s so annoyed somehow lmao He sounds dead inside ☠️ He says something about it all probably being a “miracle of love” lmao He sounds so insulting about it 🧎‍♀️

He asks why you fell in love with his brother, like what’s so good about him? And you answered “The way he seems so silly, but is actually very reliable” or something—and somehow, he knew and understood that it had to be that reason too because he, too, knew what his brother’s strongest point is…Though, he didn’t know that girls likes those kinds of men too. He proceeds to slander you for having simple tastes ☠️ lmao

The conversation then starts to shift towards himself as he slowly begins to reveal how he feels inferior compared to him—Since his brother seems to have everything, while he’s just there on the shadows. You took notice of this and assured him that, at the very least, he’s still very kind. He’s flustered, embarrassed, scratches his head as he appreciates you for saying that.

…But HOO BOI THIS IS WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING—You then asked something about him, wondering if he, too, has someone he likes romantically. He was surprised to hear that actually, hesitates, but turns serious and says, “Yes…Yes, I do have one.”

“She’s very bright, kind, and a handful. She’s older than me, but so unreliable that I just can’t leave her alone.” He sounds incredibly embarrassed. “She eats the food I make with a big smile on her face…and it makes me really happy.”

But he suddenly sounds solemn. “…But that person is getting married next month, and I’m still in shock.” He laughs a little, but he sounds so sad 🥺 “I kept thinking, why is it not me? Maybe if I have met her earlier, maybe that could’ve been me by her side.”

“Why do I have to meet her when it’s all too late…? It’s really unfair.” 🥲

“But you know what’s worse?” He starts getting a little weird like he just fucking gave up on trying to hide his feelings lmao “The one that, that person is getting married to…is actually my own older brother. So, I don’t know what to do about that.”

OF COURSE, THAT SOUNDS SUS AF so, as an act of defending yourself against the awkwardness, you stood up from your seat and about to fuck off to oblivion, when he stops you like “Wait, hold up—Please, don’t leave 🥺” He admits that he was frustrated on the fact that people view you and your fiance as this sort of “fated couple”, and it makes him sick. It feels like his brother got something he wanted and once again, he lost. Yandere-kun admits that he doesn’t have that many friends, nor does he have a girlfriend himself, so it’s always his brother who gets all the attention. The expectation that was supposed to be his was given to his brother himself, so he hated how it’s happening again with you this time…and it feels like the universe is forcing him to give up on everything for his brother.

“…But why do you have to be so nice to me?“ It turns out he was actually trying to give up on pursuing you too, but it hurts because he doesn’t want to—Since you’re so nice to him, you spend time with him, and had praised him more than anyone has…But you only see him as a younger brother and not as a man. He felt like you asking if he has anyone he likes was the final straw, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He comments how insensitive you are 😭 Like having no self-awareness and all that shit man

But he knew that you were only trying to bond with him only because you want to have a good, healthy relationship with your soon-to-be Brother-in-Law…But that’s when he finally snaps and how that’s never gonna happen, “From the very first time we met, I’ve only seen you as a woman more than anyone else.” So, he will never see you as just Sister-in-Law, he loves you too much.

He was surprised himself to know how weak he actually is, because just thinking of you was this fucking painful and he’s pissed that he can’t even help himself…and embraces you, finally being able to touch you freely, and commenting on how nice you smell like.

“Hey…How do you think I can be freed from this pain?“ “How do you think am I supposed to give up on you?” Because he doesn’t want to give up on you, he wants you to fall in love with him as well and asks if that’s really such a bad thing.

Perhaps a little freaked out, you began to call your fiance’s name instinctively but he scolds you, “Please…don’t call anyone’s name but mine right now.” AND FUCKING SOFT KISSES YOU. He demands you to say his name, and when you hesitantly did—He’s on cloud-nine, asks you to repeat it again and again, and again as he KISSES YOU EVERYTIME.

“I can’t…I can’t take it anymore, come here.”

You obviously resists as he takes you somewhere, and he 😭 kinda politely asks you to stop struggling because he doesn’t want to be rough with you lmao He wants you to listen to him as he continues to force you to make-out with him (with slightly aggressive moaning, mind you ☠️) and keeps on obsessively (desperately) telling you that he loves you as if that shit was going to change anything lol but well—who knows 👀 foreshadowing, am i right Also he tells you that you shouldn’t hold your voice because he wants to ｈｅａｒyou loud and clear, so just keep on paying attention to him and he’ll make you feel good ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

THEN THE AUDIO FADES BECAUSE YOUTUBE 🫠 But it’s assumed that whether it’s forcefully (which is VERY MUCH likely lol) or not, he manages to get his way with you through the night 🧎‍♀️Mfcker even has the audacity to ask for permission, but I don’t think he would’ve cared if you had said no lmao ☠️

The next day (?) comes, or maybe it’s still night idk it’s not really specified BUT AFTER SEGGSY SESSION, he asks if it hurt (BITCH)—He proceeded to apologize, like seriously apologized🧎‍♀️Even he didn’t know why he resorted to forcefully taking you, despite knowing that it’s wrong. But whenever he thinks about how you’re going to be his brother’s wife soon, all he sees is red…He keeps apologizing and says he really doesn’t mean it and understands if you won’t be able to forgive him anytime soon.

…Perhaps you were guilty about the fact that you unknowingly lead his feelings on by being close to him too, you apogized in which he denies immediately—Saying you didn’t do anything wrong, and that everything is on him.

To compensate, you suggested to just simply forget everything that happened until now—But Yandere-kun doesn’t quite agree with that solution. “…Am I supposed to just forget about something that made me so happy?” He says he can’t do that, but realizes that he was being selfish again and apologized as he begrudingly agreed to do just that. “I guess it’s better than you reporting me to the police.” He said, it’s the least that he can do.

“I’ll…I’ll forget about what happened…Definitely. But just for this moment, will you stay with me?” You somehow agreed, and he hugs you tight—Whispering yet another apology.

Some time later after what happened, I guess…Oh, and it’s getting closer to your wedding day PFFT He calls you through the phone, and he was surprised that you answered—He’s sorry for calling you, but he says his brother is at his place and has something he needed your help with, so he asks if you want to eat lunch with them…But he understands if you don’t want to, since it’ll be awkward with him there after what happened. But you agreed anyway, “Are you sure?” He asks, but says he’ll be waiting for you then eventually.

He welcomes you to his home, and it’s not really explained here—But you were surprised to see him, maybe because he looks horribly depressed 😭 He tells you to just go inside and sit your ass down lol You ask where your brother is and he says he went to the convenience store to buy something and he’ll be back soon (doubt) and AGAIN he apologizes for what happened between the two of you, which makes me think that he’s really reflecting on his actions and I’m just being a little bitch about it ☠️ He said he’s gotten better at controlling his feelings now, and swears to you that it won’t happen again (DOUBT)

You assured him, and he finally sounds happy omg He admits that he was sad the past few days because he thought you won’t be able to talk to him again—But seeing you right now, talking to him, and reassuring him made him so glad that he’s wrong 🥹 He’s very grateful and you jokingly tell him he sounds strange compared to before.

He kinda agrees with that and admits that he loved you too much before, and every time he remembers the things he says and did, it made him incredibly embarrassed lol Though he feels better now, since he doesn’t usually have this kind of gloomy personality, so he’s fine now 🙃

…He then suggests to play a game, while waiting for his brother to come back 🙃 A very simple, easy game 🙃 Just close your eyes, hold out both your arms, listen to what he’s saying, and focus which hand is holding yours—Left or right 🙃 Ｓｉｍｐｌｅ，　ｒｉｇｈｔ？ 🙃

If you win, he’ll congratulate you on your wedding—Buy you whatever present you want…”What if you win?” You asked🧎‍♀️And this mfcker just went “What? Don’t tell me you’re worried that I’m gonna make you do something weird or something?” He laughs and strictly told you to just close your eyes alreadg lol He keeps praising you like you’re a kid and assures you that he’s moved on 🙃 So you don’t have to worry anymore 🙃 That from now on, he’s going to be your little brother like you always wanted 🙃 and it’s not like he’ll be able to do anything weird when his brother can come home anytime lol

The amount of (doubt) I had was immaculate when listening to this for the first time, darlings—Can you tell ☠️ He says if he won…He’ll let you cook dinner next time, cause he’s sick of always being in-charge of the cooking and wants to try your cooking this time.

So, then the game begins…Or not lol He’s still preparing, and the first thing he does? Obviously—Gets as close as he possibly can towards your right ear because it’s “necessary” lmao This man ain’t slick ☠️ Obviously, you’re a bit uncomfortable with that, but he says that if you give up now before anything has even started, you won’t get a wedding present from him lol “Don’t worry, it only tickles at the start. You’ll get used to it soon.” AND THEN THE GAME ACTUALLY BEGINS LMAO ARE YOU READY???

Close your eyes, repeats the rules about your hands and he—He begins to fucking BLOW on your ears ☠️ This was fucking tingly af ngl, not something to listen to whilst the dead of the night because it’s actually relaxing af jesus christ…ANYWAY, HE’S SEDUCING YOU BTW.

He bites, sucks, and licks on your ear, encouraging your body temperature to go up and proceeds to ｇａｓｌｉｇｈｔ you into thinking that there’s ABSOLUTELY NOTHING wrong nor suggestive with what he’s doing, nu-uh 🫠🫠 It’s all part of the challenge of the game, he says and your ears are just sensitive lmao He commentates on what he’s doing too omg “My tongue is going deep inside your ear.” EAR PORN HITS DIFFERENT NOW, DOESNT IT ☠️

This sussy moment continues on for the next few minutes—But like, as it’s happening, you can hear some really…ominous sounds of something shuffling in the background like someone rummaging for something and like ??? Obviously you’re curious and FINALLY—He asks which hand is holding yours right now…You answered correctly, and he proudly tells you to open your eyes for a job well-done and BOOM.

You’ve been handcuffed 🤡

He cut off every sensory you could possibly have at that moment just to distract you from noticing what he was doing. “I tricked you? No, that was all part of the game.” You probably started raising your voice, but he shushes you—Telling you to shut up, because he’s going to make you feel good again ☠️ GETS ME EVERY TIME GODDAMN IT LMAO Ladies, remember that all men do is lie 😔 (sigh)

He sounds WAY different than who he was before, which makes me think that he was only acting weak, because he sounds assertive now as he drills lewd words right into your head. “Who’s in front of you right now? Say my name.” But you call for help, called your fiance’s name instead. He shushes you gently and corrects your mistake…but asks you again, “Who’s touching you right now? It’s me, isn’t it?”

Maybe you didn’t answer, to scared to say anything—So, he reassures you by instilling you with his own twisted logic : “Don’t worry too much about my brother.” He says, like the devil on your shoulder. “You haven’t been officially married yet, so it’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You, me, or my brother. We’re not doing anything wrong.” He says, he sounds like he has a smile on his face as he continues to brainwash you into doing the wrong thing. “…So, say my name. Look at me and only me, because you’re the only one I can see.”

“Fall in love with me.”

“It’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Nothing at all.”

He kisses you a few more times, to give further validity with what he’s saying and at this point, I think you’re slowly giving up—Because there’s really nothing else you can do but accept it. He convinces you that his kisses feels good, and that you loved being kissed with tongue—and with your feeble, slowly-getting-fucked-out mind, you begin to agree with everything he says. So, he promises you that he can make you feel even better.

“I’ll always be with you.” He says, which had you confused—So, he states the obvious, “Because I’m going to be with you forever.”

“Aren’t you happy that there’s someone in this world who loves you as much as I do?”

He suggest for the two of you to “Do it” again—Your losing your focus, so he had successfully convinced you into saying that you want to do it too…He tells you that he’s happy that you’re thinking that way ♥︎

🫣🫣🫣

WE’RE ALMOST TO THE END GUYS PLEASE BEAR WITH ME, THIS IS AN HOUR-LONG AUDIO DRAMA BUT ITS SO GOOD.

After sexy time, the term “Nya-chan” has finally been addressed for the first time and it seems like while y’all we’re fucking, he was calling you that all this time. He wonders why he was calling you that too—But he guessed that it’s because he had always seen you as a little selfish-bratty cat whenever you’re eating the food he makes, so he just ended up calling you “Nya” as a nickname…Nya as in the Meow in Cat

He likes it, it feels special because he’s the only one who can call you that—He repeats it over and over again and asks if he can call you that from now on. You agreed, so I guess that’s your name from now on, Darling ♥︎👋 Nya-chan 😺 He feels so happy calling you that, it’s so special to him that he begins to cry—He loves Nya too much🧎‍♀️

(My typing hand is dying)

The next day—Someone is calling him and tells you to stay put. It’s his workplace, it seems like they need him for something despite the fact that it’s his day-off lmao somethings never change huh 😭 He’ll still go, but then he notices that you’re now standing in front of the entrance door, and he asks you if you’re going somwhere…But you don’t you say anything, so he figured that you might’ve been too afraid to stay here all by yourself…He steps closer to you, apologized for not noticing your worries earlier—But like, “I was so happy when you told me that you’ll stay with me forever, so I just trusted that you won’t leave.”

“Sorry, have you come to hate me now?” He starts to get a little unhinged, like you triggered something in him, which quite frankly means—That he’s becoming scary again ☠️ “…Hey, did I do something wrong?”

“You’re not…trying to run away, are you?” He steps REALLY close, those footsteps sounds heavy and the little laugh on his voice—Like you just said something really ridiculous and shows that he’s a little pissed 🧎‍♀️Dear God… “Let’s have a little talk, shall we?“

And he slams you to the fucking wall.

“…That’s not it, right? You’re not trying to run away, right? You understand that, right?” He bombards you with questions that I don’t even think you’re answering because he’s already convincing himself that you won’t run away, because you love him, yknow? Why would you even think of something like that lol—Like the little delusional man he is ☠️ He says he’s sorry for being suspicious, he’s just worried for his little Nya and that’s on him. You never know what’s out there.

“I’m so, so goddamn worried that I might lose it once I imagine what will happen to you if you leave this room, Nya.” He’s sounding more and more deranged. “Hey, you’ll understand that, won’t you? WONT YOU?”

He kisses you once again to prove how much he loves and cares about you, but goddamn he’s as yandere as one can get because even I’m scared of how twisted this man’s bipolar-ass kind of love ☠️ He continues to tell you all the things he’s scared of happening when you get out, like when another weird man comes in to sweep you off by the feet and he doesn’t want that 😭 It’s like this man just completely erased the fact that you and his brother are engaged and would actually be getting married in a few days lol Guess that ain’t happening anytime soon now ☠️

“Nya wouldn’t want that to happen to you too, right?“ He baby-talks you, plays with your mind and using this kind of manipulative-guilt-tripping shit going on. He even goes threatning her by saying how even he won’t be able to touch her again if you’ve become tainted by others—And in turn, no one will. So, he scares you into understanding his forceful and terrifying logic…And he’s satisfied with what you become.

He apologizes for being rough before, for almost giving you a goddamn concussion lmao Because damn he’s well-aware that he’s losing his mind, and the fact that you’re the only saving grace he has, he will do his damn best to keep you by his side—Whatever means necessary.

Another time-skip has passed—The next day came and he whispers good morning to you as you’re still chained down on the bed. He apologizes for it being tight (your wrists are probably fucked ngl) so, he’ll loosen them up a little but make sure you don’t run away, okay 👁👁 He’ll be looking at you through the camera (!?) so don’t do anything sus, okay 🧎‍♀️ sorry i love this voice drama so much

Then, someone rang the doorbell—So, Yandere-kun very gently (INTIMIDATINGLY) tells you to not be too loud as he went to go see who it is…Has a few conversation about that person, acting like he’s a normal human-being there for a second and soon—He comes back to you and you asked who it was. He said it was no one important, just the landlord…looking for a lost cat.

“…I sure hope they find it soon.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

(SOBBING)

“BRIEF SUMMARY” MY ASS—Sorry, I had too much fun translating and commentating on this lmao ☠️☠️ ITS SO FUCKING GOOD. I’m sure there were a few error in this, but like—I wish I have the general knowledge down at least so that you could understand what happened 🤡 Apologies for that lol

Please listen to the actual audio drama, it’s free on youtube—I swear it’s a different experience with voice on. It changed my life fr だいきりASMR is a hidden diamond in the rough, why is no one talking about them 😩 I’m gonna go listen to more of their content, and I’ll share some with you all if I find something more interesting to translate and commentate on lol 👀 chaotically, if y’all are into that haha

Also, I love how someone can portrait a yandere like this—A yandere that doesn’t rely too much on violence and I love the fact that he’s not just the typical sadistic type of Yandere, yknow? 😭 Like he’s just some poor pathetic bastard who fell in love with the wrong person, at the wrong time—So, you can’t help but kinda feel bad for him ☠️ PEOPLE TAKE NOTES.

[ophelia-writes-stuff]

♥ power of my love . part 1 ♥

. pairing : yandere!austin!elvis x reader

. summary / request : you're a pretty small and local fashion designer, so you are both thrilled and nervous when you get a call from a long-time friend of yours, steve, who tells you that he's got a job for you in vegas for no other than elvis presley. when the two of you meet, sparks fly, but you can't help but notice a more sinister underlining to your friendly relationship as time goes on.

. notes / warning : swearing, usage of drugs (i.e. cigarettes), nothing too dark for this chapter. though i have to say that elvis isn't seen very much in this chapter as i was setting things up, but he'll certainly be much more prominent in future chapters. and, i was wondering, i'm pondering between doing a slowburn and more of a quickly-paced fic, so if you have a preference, please leave it in the comments! thanks, and enjoy!

. word count : 4k

(♥) . . . request something . masterlist . taglist . navigation

(♥) . . . next part

(♥) . . . series masterlist (for all parts and warnings)

tags: @venus-haze, @luckyevansstan, @rxsesss, @ggxsan, @sydneyyyya (if you'd like your name to be removed/added, pls just ask me!)

You'd always loved designing and sewing clothing. Even when you were younger, you remember picking up knitting remarkably fast with your grandmother, who, of course, loved to teach you. Scarves were a thing of the past in only a month, and you had the impressive ability to knit sweaters and stuffies when you were only seven. Sewing, however, proved to be more challenging, as your grandmother managed to teach you the basics of it, but died before you turned ten.

Although, instead of discouraging you from pursuing your passion in clothing, this only motivated you to improve quicker. You could remember going to every library and bookstore in town and finding ever book you could find on sewing to try to get better at the meticulous craft of clothing design and making, and it without a doubt paid off. By your teens you near-perfectly knew the ins and outs of making clothing, and already new some things about design.

You had always appreciated your parents' supporting of your passion in the clothing industry. They eagerly payed your college fees once you had been accepted into one of America's top fashion design schools, and listened intently when you spoke of your future as a clothing designer. You always felt so fortunate to have such wonderful parents in your life.

During your time in college you made many friends, including a certain Steve Binder, and although he didn't technically go to your school, you did spend a great deal amount of time with him as he was skilled in the art of helping anyone find themselves, which not only helped you a great deal when it came to designing clothing that you loved, but made you realize that style was another outlet for just that.

After college you were welcomed home with many job offers, a couple of which you accepted, but you found that you didn't appreciate the stress and pressure that came to being in the public eye of the fashion industry. A little disheartened, you searched for other types of jobs to pursue for people with your type of skill. Luckily, you were able to land some gigs as a personal fashion designer for some somewhat wealthy people near your hometown, and soon found that you greatly enjoyed designing personal outfits for people, and so, you decided to pursuit a career that line of work.

It didn't take long to start climbing the social hierarchy, you soon found out, as in no less than a year you were working for some rich fellows and occasionally some people leaning more on the famous side, all while remaining under the radar of the general public.

And now, almost a decade later, you were happy to report to anyone and everyone that you still love your job, although you had to admit that it could be lonely at times, but you always had music to accompany you.

Swinging your hips side to side as you softly hummed the tune to the song that was currently playing on the radio, the name of which you couldn't quite remember, you smiled as you stared at your newly finished piece of clothing. Mr. Wilson would most certainly love it, this, you were sure of. The suit was perfectly formal but not too over-the-top, and managed to capture the man's essence in it effortlessly.

A wringing from your phone snapped you out of your thoughts, and you hastily walked over to it and picked it up.

"Hello, this is personal clothing stylist Y/n L/n speaking, how may I help you?" you recited, your smile never once faltering. You'd learned through your years of work that smiling while you were talking was crucial when it came to sounding friendly, even when the other person couldn't see you.

"Ah, Y/n. It's been a while, hasn't it?" a familiar voice on the other line spoke. Though you couldn't quite decipher it immediately, once you eventually did, you let out an amused chuckle and muttered a "hey Steve," into the telephone.

"How have you been?" asked your friend.

"Good, good. Busy, but I suppose that's always a good thing. You know what they say: if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life."

"Well said, well said."

"And you? How's your work been?"

"Same as yours. Been able to travel quite a bit," you heard Steve let out a quiet laugh. "Actually, that reminds me, I've got a job for you."

"Oh yeah?" You tried not to hide the slight disappointment in your voice as you spoke. It wasn't that you were disappointed by the fact that he had a job for you by any means-- you'd simply let your hopes go up and assumed that Steve was calling you for leisure, not work.

It was irritating, truly-- to think that your small crush on the man from when you were younger had developed over the years, and although you had come to accept that he simply wasn't that into you, but you couldn't help but hope something would suddenly change out of habit-- that a fire would somehow spark in his heart for you and he'd realize after all these years that you were someone that'd he'd consider liking as a bit more than a friend, but you were glad to have him as a friend, nonetheless.

"Yeah. Got an especially big client this time, too. Says he wants to find himself again. I couldn't help but feel like you could help him with just that."

You felt your cheeks heat up at the complement.

"I'm flattered, truly, Steve, but I must ask, how can I really help with something like that? Clothing can only help people so much, and I can't help but feel like whoever you're talking about may need something more than just a new change of clothes."

"I'd agree with you if the situation were different, but this one's pretty special. My client has a show coming up, and he's trying to change up everything and anything he can. The outfit is definitely going to be an important part of that, and I couldn't think of anyone more skilled in the art of making the perfect clothing for the perfect person other than you."

You felt your hands grow clammy at the high praise. You knew Steve was never one to bullshit, and he'd worked with many people like you in the movie industry, so when he said that, he meant it. He truly believed you were one of the -- if not the best clothing stylist in all of America. "Oh, you mean it, Steve? Little ol' me?" You shook your head and couldn't help but grin widely. "Who is this client, anyway?"

"Elvis." He didn't offer up more info, and you couldn't help but gawk at the news.

"Elvis-- you mean the Elvis Presley? The king of rock-and-roll, sole owner of the heart of every woman in America? That Elvis Presley?"

"The one and only." You couldn't understand how Steve seemed so calm about this.

"And me? You want me to be the one to make his outfit? Steve, I don't think I'm very qualified for this position..." You simply couldn't believe it. Though you'd worked on some attire for some people with some important titles, you'd never done something this big. It all felt so surreal. You, a local clothing stylist, were being offered to make an outfit for the Elvis Presley.

"The gig's in California. The flight'll be paid for and so will the hotel, so don't worry about the bill. Can I book you a plane ticket for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow!? That early?"

"Be at the airport at 7:30am at the latest. Wouldn't want to miss your flight and be late. I'll make sure you get your ticket before the ride. I'll be there to pick you up once you land."

You attempted to protest, but your efforts were futile as Steve had already hung up the phone.

The sneaky bastard.

You tried to think ill of Steve as you started packing your things for the next day, but much to your dismay, you couldn't help but feel thankful that he'd given you such an amazing opportunity. After all, it wasn't just anyone who had the opportunity to design an outfit for the one and only king of rock-and-roll. You couldn't think badly of him for providing you with something like that, even if he was cutting the timing a little short.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at the finished suit that you had only recently just been completed. I'll have my parents send it over, you thought to yourself as you folded your clothing. Your parents had always been good with that.

The night before your flight to California was, arguably, one of the worst night of your life in terms of sleep. You hadn't even managed to fall asleep until around 3:00am, thoughts of meeting Elvis Presley buzzing through your mind. You had tried many times to settle your thoughts and tried to convince yourself that you were barely going to spend much time with the man, and that the most interaction with him that you'd surely have would be a conversation on the topic of what he wanted and a brief period to measure him, but nothing could cease your restless mind.

When you had, in fact, woken up at 6:00am, (which was annoying, as you would have preferred to have gotten up earlier and to have been much more early when you came to the airport) you were without a doubt completely and utterly exhausted. You wished that Steve would have been kind enough to provide you a week to prepare, or to at least get ready to meet one of the most famous men on the planet, before you had to jump on a plane ride to California. But, alas, Steve was never truly one for waiting-- this was something that was undeniable.

Your limbs ached as you brushed your teeth, threw on some clothes, brushed your hair, and even when you ate breakfast. Once you had finally been able to get on the road, you found yourself pressing abnormally hard on the gas pedal as you knew you were cutting it short on time, since the airport was about forty five minutes away at best.

Once you had, in fact, gotten there in one piece, you dashed towards the front to have yourself and your luggage checked in, which was able to be done in a somewhat timely manner. You were sure you must have concerned the woman at the front desk you were talking to with your franticness, but you tried to pay no mind to that fact as you entered the plane as you sat down between two older gentlemen (which, mind you, felt very awkward and uncomfortable).

Regardless, you couldn't help the gradually increasing excitement you felt as the plane got closer and closer to Burbank. You could hardly remain still on your seat once you had finally landed-- it took everything in you to simply take a few seconds before you unfastened your seatbelt and sprung up from the seat you had been confined to for ever so long.

Once you had left plane you were in, you were pleased to find Steve standing only a few meters before you, offering you a friendly wave.

"Hey, Steve," you greeted, offering the man a kind smile. He, in turn, did the same.

"Y/n! Good to see you."

"Not like I had much of a choice."

Steve raised an eyebrow and gave you a slight smile. "So would you have denied the job if you were given the chance?" A more cheeky smile spread its way across Steve's lips-- something rare that wasn't perceived by many, but something you has the opportunity of seeing-- in response to your silence. "That's what I thought. Now, why don't we get in my car and head over there?"

The drive itself wasn't too long, but similarly to how the plane ride felt, seconds seemed to last for an eternity. When you two had eventually arrived, you were practically shaking in your boots. Though you knew you'd most likely have some time before you met Elvis, just being in the same vicinity as the musician spiked your anxiety.

Steve seemed to have noticed this, however, as he offered you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. EP's a nice guy, trust me. I was just as nervous when I first met him."

At his confession, you let out a skeptical chuckle. "I can almost guarantee you that you were not as nervous as I am right now."

Steve merely shrugged at this, before slipping a cigarette out of his pocket with his right hand and a match with his other. He plopped the cigarette into his mouth and lit it. "Now, let's go find your hotel room," he said, and you didn't miss the way his hand was placed delicately behind your back as he lead you inside.

"Oh wow-- this place is quite extravagant," you mumble mostly to yourself as you stare in awe at the gorgeous architecture and the high ceilings. The fancy jewels and furniture that were placed around the room alone would have most likely been worth more than all of the money you'd ever made.

"Yeah, well, I supposed the Presley Enterprises thought it was wise to have everyone stay in the same hotel, which I suppose is nice." Steve's hand was slipped into his pocket as he abruptly stopped. "We've arrived."

His hand then came right back out of his pocket as he handed you a key. You smiled timidly as you accepted it and placed it into the keyhole, and you felt yourself smile as a satisfying click was felt once you inserted it in and turned it.

To say that your breath was taken away once you entered the room would have been an understatement, and although you were sure that this room was one of the cheapest the hotel had to offer, it was beautiful nonetheless.

"Feel free to run up room service as much as you'd like. I'll leave you here for a couple of hours but I'll come back around noon. You can catch up on sleep or prepare for anything you feel needs to be prepared for."

You smiled, "Thanks, Steve. This means a lot."

The man, in question, shrugged and gave you a small smile in return. "Don't mention it."

Once your friend had left, you placed your room keys somewhere safe and started unpacking the fabric samples that you had taken out for Elvis Presley. You'd decided to only choose the most expensive materials as you knew something cheap would never suit a man with his kind of title.

Once you had made sure they were thoroughly organized, you let out a tired yawn as you dragged yourself over to your new bed. You took a solid moment to stare at the neatly tucked in sheets and the meticulousness that must come from whoever laid the bedding, and felt almost guilty as you ever so carefully ruined it and slipped underneath the covers. You didn't bother putting on any pyjamas-- you were simply much too tired. And, besides, you'd have to get up soon enough, so what was the harm?

Though short, your nap was somewhat enjoyable. The bags under your eyes (which you'd only learned were there once you'd decided to go to the bathroom right before your head hit the pillow) were less pronounced, though you still hastily chose to add some foundation and powder to make them seem less noticeable before Steve came.

Having nothing much to do as you weren't very tired, nor did you need to organize or prepare anything else before you inevitably met Elvis Presley, you placed on some high heels and started fidgeting with your hands. It had always been a habit of yours that you could never quite shake off, but you were fine with that, you supposed. It was much better than many of the vices that some of your colleagues and friends had picked up.

A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts, and you smiled meekly as you walked up to the entrance of your room and greeted no other than Steve.

"Glad to see you're ready," he said, taking a quick peer into your hotel room. "We're just going to set you up at the studio today, so you can bring your materials and supplies with you. I'll explain how things will work when we're there." You nodded attentively and grabbed your things when your friend finished explaining the current situation.

You came outside and noticed that there is already a cab inside, and when the driver spotted the two of you, seemingly having expected Steve's arrival, he beckoned for the both fo you to enter to which you obliged.

The drive-- luckily-- didn't take very long, and in roughly ten minutes you were standing in front of an NBC studio. It practically screamed for attention, the letters and light all around in flashing in a hypnotizing manner.

"After you," said the man beside you, who, you ever so suddenly noticed, was not beside you any longer, rather, he was opening the door open. You muttered your appreciation as you walked through the studio doors, and all but gaped at the large interior. While, yes, you'd expected to studio to be large, nothing could compare to its truly colossal size.

Steve didn't even bother staring you as he, too, gazed at the room.

"Pretty big, huh?"

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Huge."

You followed Steve through the studio as he started meandering around the halls.

"Were are we going?" You asked curiously, after a couple of moments.

"Just to your new office. Then I'll lay some ground rules." At this, an eyebrow of yours quirked.

"Ground rules?"

"Yup."

Steve didn't offer you any more information about the topic.

Once the two of you finally entered what you presumed to be your new office, Steve motioned for you to take a seat, and so, you did just that. You stared up at him, with a hidden interest as to what his next words would be.

"Ok, so, ground rules," he starts, pacing around the room in a peculiarly formal manner. "Firstly, you aren't to speak to the Colonel to tell him what you are designing." To this, your eyebrows raised, and you stared at Steve in a way as if to say, please explain.

"The Colonel is Elvis's manager-- you know this much, yeah?" You nodded at his statement. It was unlike any normal person not to know the Colonel. He was a publicly hated figure, known for practically stealing Elvis's pay check and being the most greedy man on the face of the Earth. "Yeah, well, the thing is, he doesn't know about Elvis's plans. He believes that Elvis is supposed to and is going to do a Christmas special."

"A Christmas special? Elvis?" You echoed incredulously, resulting in a nod from Steve.

"That's what the Colonel and the investors believe. But, as I'm sure you could imagine, Elvis isn't a fan, so he's decided to take on a new path to this whole thing-- but the Colonel doesn't know, not just yet. I'll try to make sure he doesn't talk to you, but if he does, just talk about something Christmas related you've got in the works." Your brows furrowed. Was this job even legal?

"Now, since most of the clothing is made, your job is simply to provide the perfect outfits for Elvis--" Upon seeing your now worried expression, Steve tried to offer you a reassuring smile. "--Who you'll meet today, but won't yet work with, so don't worry about that too much right now."

"That-- that's good. Yeah. That works." Your heart was racing at the mere prospect of being in the same building as Elvis-- so the simple idea of meeting him made your knees weak. You could barely speak without fumbling over your words.

Of course, you weren't quite like how some girls were when it came to fawning over Elvis, but there was no denying that you loved rock-and-roll, and you never minded a pretty face to accompany it. And, after all, you were going to be meeting America's most popular icon of the decade. It was only natural to be a bit nervous.

"Alright," Steve seemed to nod to himself. "I'll give you about... ten minutes? Then I'll introduce you to Elvis."

The moments that followed felt much longer than when you were on that plane ride.

You wasted no time in unpacking your materials and placing them in an orderly manner around the room. Once you had finished, you sat back down in the chair you had previously been seated on. Your knee bounced up and down as your mind wandered and tried to find something interesting to think about.

Unfortunately, however, your mind was clouded with thoughts of Elvis. You tried to bury them deep down as you occasionally readjusted your tightly-fitted dress and toyed with your hair. More than an eternity seemed to have passed before Steve had finally entered the room, and didn't give you so much as a word as he nodded in your direction, as if beckoning for you to follow him, to which you obliged.

Upon seeing the back of a black-haired man in a suit, your eyes nearly flew out of their sockets. He was presumably waiting for the both of you-- and with slicked back and an iconic greasy hairstyle, there was no denying who the man before you was.

Elvis Presley.

"Elvis," Steve greeted in a formal tone. The man, in question, turned around, and right you were. It was undoubtedly no other than Elvis Presley.

"I'd like to introduce you to your new clothing designer, Y/n L/n. She's the best that I've ever seen in the industry." Now, this peaked Elvis's interest. He knew how stingy Steve was when it came to compliments, so you truly must have been something.

Elvis's eyes briefly raked over your body, and, feeling unable to help it, you pulled down your dress as low as you could and offered a small, shy smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Presley."

Elvis could only shake his head bashfully at the formal greeting, and in a deep, husky voice, said, "Pleasure's all mine," and offered you the most charming of smiles. "And, please, call me Elvis."

Once Steve had left and allowed you two to chat for a little while, you knew that you were visibly shaking, but Elvis was kind and tried to offer you as much reassurance as he could, and it was endearing-- his humbleness, his caring nature. Conversation flowed like a river between you two when the ice finally broke and you were able to become a little bit more open.

Regardless, the two of you had to cut the conversation short when Elvis got called over by his manager, and he bid you a quick farewell and offered you a grin before leaving you to your own devices.

And watching him walk off, you couldn't shake off the sense that something had just blossomed between the two of you-- something new, something raw. Something that you couldn't quite decipher the connotation of, but you knew would grow.

Your thoughts didn't get too far as you were immediately called over by Steve, who assigned you to a couple of tasks before claiming you were done for the day. At this, you, of course, after a long day, practically ran to your hotel room and collapsed on your bed when you got there. Although you were most certainly excited by the day and had whatever one could consider as "fun" considering you were working, you were still exhausted by your lack of sleep the previous night, so you wasted no time in changing into your pyjamas and clambering back into your bed.

And when your head hit the pillow, your eyes closed as you let fatigue take you over, but couldn't help your whirlwind of thoughts about the show, and Steve, and Elvis, before you truly lost your consciousness.

[sleetkissed]

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚𝘆 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝘀 !

ty @vigilant-cleric for the inspiration ♥

For everyone who had their hopes up  &  expected a great lay with her, sorry in advance.

• She will be silent.

• She won't tell you what feels good.

• You have to guess if she had an orgasm.

• Did I mention there will be no communication ?

• You will feel judged the whole time.

• You better leave before she wakes up.

• Get scoffed at if you dare suggest a second lay sometime.

• She prefers the dominant role but can be persuaded into switching.

• She will actively encourage you to be loud. It does turn her on a whole lot.

• Praise her. She is the greatest. If you don't think so, think again.

• You are doing a poor job ? Have fun waiting until you are done so she can give you the most gut-wrenching feedback.

[aod4909]

My beloved Brokes are being very broke ♥ Brandi had her third very blond son Oliver-Skip. She got a job as a maid for a while but that barely made the bills but eventually got one as a masseuse! And while this one pays better she has 3 kids she needs to get through college. Good luck girl.

Dustin screw up a job and lost all his criminal connections, prob for the best but he still did everything he could around the house to help with his mom and his brothers. School was extremely hard for him with how little time he had for homework :c His brothers however were growing up really well which was worth it for him!

Beau loves books and if asked he wants to become an author when he grows up! He is doing amazing in school, he is a perfect little gentleman! The little off feeling everyone has when they interact with him is nothing to worry about and just their imaginations and should be dismissed :^) Unbeknownst to everyone he took a part time job in the criminal career as a teen after Dustin left for college.

Oliver-Skip on the other hands is the cutest thing ever! With his fluffy little hair and his beanie that he never takes off 🥺 He is doing great at school but his true passion is music. It took a bit but they were eventually able to buy him a violin! He started working at the record store c:

Aaaand Brandi got really friendly with Nina!

[wooldawn]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

tagged by @cowplant-pizza​, @makgeolii​, and @deehya​ - thank u ;-; ♥

are you named after anyone? i am! i got my middle name from my aunt on my mother’s side!

when was the last time you cried? last night ;-; i tear up over anything and everything

do you have kids? two! my youngest is 9 months and my oldest is 4!

do you use sarcasm a lot? not really

what sports do you play/have you played? when i was younger (a LOT younger) i did cheer and softball! in high school i didn’t play any sports but i was a ‘mat maid‘ aka i kept score of wrestling matches and cleaned the mats and did some other things for the wrestling team (i did it with a close friend so it was fun!)

what’s the first thing you notice about other people? i dunno, i’ve never thought about it ;-; i feel like eyes are where people look first??

eye colour? brown

scary movies or happy endings? scary movies scary movies scary movies (sometimes happy endings)

any special talents? loving everyone i meet (it is destroying my life ♥)

where were you born? oregon! though i didn’t live there long, i’ve lived most of my life in a southern state that im not going to tell you

what are your hobbies? i have no time for any hobby that requires a lot of time lol so cooking (LOVE baking), reading, painting, sometimes playing video games and editing! also me and fiance find new games to play after the girls go to sleep, my favorites have been it takes two and beating him in uno ♥ least favorite has been chess (i don’t know how to play and he does NOT let me win)

do you have any pets? yup! our newest dog isn’t here yet (when we moved to the home we live in now our puppy died of parvo SO all the animals we get we get them their full shots before they come here) but we have two great pyrenees named elsa and blue duck, and then we have a cat named mau!

how tall are you? 5′4 and a quarter

fave subject in school? math

dream job? no thank you

everyones already done this SO if you haven’t i tag you

[kuma829]

Decorate♥Crimson Chocolat Festival Epilogue Two

Cast: Adonis, Koga, Kaoru, Rei, Keito, Kuro, Souma

Author: Yuuki Yoshino

Season: Winter

Epilogue Two 

Koga: Oioi, who even are they!? Is that seriously AKATSUKI…!?

Kaoru: Ahaha! Koga-kun, why are you so surprised? Well, I mean my eyes can’t believe it either.

This is going to be a good competition with how close the results are~

But… I know a lot of girls are going to come see the show. And, of course, I want to win their affections.

Sakuma-san, let’s not lose either.

We’ll show them that guys with a hint of danger are more attractive than guys who whisper sweet nothings in your ear ♪

Rei: Kuku, it seems the flames of your motivation have been ignited.

Likewise, I’m full of energy as well. Soon the sun will set, and night will come. It’s time for us monsters to rise. It’s too late to escape now, for it’s time for us to feast.

Kaoru: Save it for the stage. Aah well, I guess I am counting on you to support me out there, huh?

…Hey Anzu-chan? Didya come here to support me? I’m so happy~ You really love me don’t you ♪?

Huh? I’m not the only one you’re here to support? It’s cuz you got off work and so you’re here to cheer everyone on?

Ahaha, I wish you’d say it was “only me” you’re here for, even if it’s a lie… Huh? You’ve got one more thing to do?

Eeh?! What’s wrong Anzu-chan! Why’d you suddenly bow your head like that?

You’re sorry for causing a misunderstanding…? Eh? Isn’t this about Adonis-kun?

You don’t need to apologise, Anzu-chan. It was my fault, afterall, for making such a big deal out of some miscommunication. 

I’m glad everything is going well, y’kno? Plus Adonis-kun is back to normal—or I guess, now he’s bustling with energy after getting chocolates from his juniors.

Well, obviously, I’d prefer to get chocolates from a girl I like and not my juniors… Eh..? What? Happy Valentine's Day?

Hah? Is this, could it be? Chocolate from Anzu-chan? “Yes, that’s it,” haaah?

Thank you, Anzu-chan! I seriously didn’t expect to get anything from you like this, your surprise makes me sooo happy!

Could this mean… Is this a serious declaration…?

Huuh? I’m not the only one, you’re going to give it to everyone?

Eh? You made chocolates for, like, everyone? That’s a ton of work, isn’t it?

Not really? You’re good at making sweets, huh? Well, if you say you had fun making it with such a big smile plastered all over your face, then I can’t argue with that.

…Thanks. Even if you made these chocolates to give to everyone, I’ll still savour every bite ♪

Aah, AKATSUKI’s performance has ended. It’s our turn next, so let’s hit the stage.

Anzu-chan, don’t take your eyes away from us, alright? Nah, I’ll show you a performance where you won’t be able to take your eyes away from us.

Kuro: Hasumi, Kanzaki, good job out there.

Keito: Mhm, Kiryuu, you did great work too. AKATSUKI’s performance was just as good as Knights.

It’s all thanks to your hard work. I’m serious, thank you.

Kuro: What’s with all the thanks? It was fun ta do somethin’ that ain’t our usual.

Souma: I, as well, think likewise to Kiryuu-dono.

However, when the “live” came to an end, all of the girls gathered to say, “that was ‘totes sexy!’” Such words leave me perplexed. 

I felt like I was not doing what I was taught. They even asked me to “blow a ‘kiss,’” as a request, which greatly troubled me.

Kuro: I get it, I also felt strange ‘bout it.

…Oh, it looks like UNDEAD’s on the stage now. Haha, they’re already on fire, maybe our performance gave them some inspiration?

Kaoru: ♪~♪~♪

It doesn’t matter who you came to see~ I’ll make sure it’s only me who you see.. ♪

(Fufu, seems like I’ve got over half the audience hooked. I can hear their squeals, “I love you, I’m in love with you!” 

(It doesn’t feel bad to be loved… Hah, yeah it feels real good.)

(Ahaha… Anzu-chan is also waving and cheering me on.)

(Though, I’d be way more enthusiastic if you said “I love you.” But, I guess that’s asking for way too much~?)

(Yeah, I mean she already gave me chocolates, even though they were for everyone, and she also came here to support me. If I can’t be satisfied with this much, I’ll be punished.)

♪~♪~♪

Rei: (Kaoru-kun, you look so lively. Fufu, it must be because Lady Anzu came to see us.)

(You’re trying your best to show your cool side now, aren’t you?)

(Well, I can’t fall behind these young folk. I’ll do my best too ♪)

Koga: ♪~♪~♪

Oi, Adonis. These senpai are going to leave us in the dust~ Let’s show ‘em what we got.

Adonis: Aah, right, let’s show them our best.

 ♪~♪~♪

(Huh? I can see some rainbow coloured light. Is that Tenma…?)

(I see, so you came to cheer me on. I was happy to be given the chocolates you made for me… Thank you, Tenma.)

Thanks for coming to see our performance. I’m no good at talking, so I can’t whisper any sweet words to you. Instead, let me serve you all with a song and a dance.

Happy Valentine’s Day… Please enjoy yourself until the very end.

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[icallhimjoey]

I’ve Got You

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your flatmate have perfected the art of wingmanship for one another. It’s a great system that seems to work every single time, until you’re left unsatisfied.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, rpf (don’t read if this makes you uncomfy), fem!reader, smut

Author’s note: baby’s first smutty series - sorry if it's bad! I'll make sure to do a sickeningly fluffy series after this, I promise! (rewritten on 13 nov 2023)

Wordcount: 3.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

    “No, stop, don’t– don’t kiss my neck,” you panted and tried to push Joe away with your shoulder in a poor attempt, but you meant your words. 

Your hands were just… busy.

“What?” he only moved by millimetres, lips still grazing skin, his breath hot behind your ear. 

“Stop, we’re just– you said we’d just be cracking our necks here, there’s no–  there’s no lips– ah,” Joe used his teeth to scape a line behind the hook of your jaw and swirled his tongue down. 

He grinned at the sounds it pulled out of you.

“Seems like you like it...” 

An almost pained sound escaped your throat as you pushed your head firmly into the pillow. Tried to escape through the mattress, to sink into the soft plush entirely and to disappear, because what the fuck was even happening right now?

“I don’t need– you don’t need to know what I like,” you almost sounded annoyed and pushed him back using your full upper body now, doing a better job at it.

You were still actively trying to sell the idea of what was currently happening to yourself, which was a difficult enough task in and of itself. 

If you decided against it, it would already be too late, because there you were, naked in between Joe’s sheets. 

You hadn’t audibly told Joe no, and you had taken off your own top and bra... couldn’t exactly blame anyone else for that.

Now, see, you always loved it when guys checked in to ask if what they were about to do was okay, but you really hoped Joe wouldn’t, because you didn’t know what your answer would be. 

Did you want to be there? There was no straight, easy answer.

Agreeing wholeheartedly to what was happening seemed a bad idea, because then what? You didn’t need your life, this household, to be more complicated than it already was.

So you lingered in the middle, and allowed the position Joe had cornered you into, but only… sort of.

A week had passed, and when Joe walked in and caught you scratching off the label on your beer bottle when your friend had come over for dinner that night, he tutted to himself. When he saw the evidence of more labels half removed by scratchy fingernails, he had frowned at you. 

These were signs of sexual frustration, weren’t they?

“Is it that bad?” Joe pulled a chair out for himself to join the two of you. 

Your friend and you both looked up from your conversation to see Joe eye the little pile of scraps and snippets of paper on the table as he sat down. You were quick to sweep them off the table into your hand, before also grabbing the two empty beer bottles with the other.  

“Another?” you asked your friend over your shoulder on your way to the kitchen, completely ignoring Joe's comment. You knew what he was getting at but didn't want to talk about it. 

“You, Joe?” 

In turn, they both ignored you, knowing you’d return with three beers anyway.  

“You should’ve seen the way she snapped at the cashier earlier,” your friend did want to talk about it however, about your overall bad mood, how irritated you seemed, how short you were with everyone. She didn’t think it was that funny, but she was definitely a little amused. 

And it was obvious. You knew you were stressed, tense, needed some serious unloading of it all.  

“She asked for my ID over a couple of beers,” you defended yourself with your face inside the fridge. Hearing yourself say it now, you knew it was stupid, but in that moment, you felt the young girl behind the till shouldn’t have asked. You were very clearly over age and definitely older than the cashier who looked to be about 19 if you had to guess. 

Your friend thought that you should’ve taken her question as a compliment. Instead, in an absolute foul mood, you had asked her if she was being fucking serious.  

“How dare she?” Joe mocked outrage and when you saw your friend laugh, you couldn’t help but smile either. 

“I'm telling you, come work out with me," your friend suggested as you handed her another beer. "Get some of that aggression out." 

The second you sat down, Joe's hand reached for a shoulder of yours to squeeze. 

"My God," he got up and stood behind you, both his hands now on your shoulders, digging fingers painfully hard into your muscles. 

You tried to elbow him in the balls behind you, but he was able to dodge it. 

"So tense!" Joe laughed. 

"Fuck off," you used both your hands to dig nails into his, leaving crescent moon marks in their wake, making him wince in pain before pulling his hands away from you. 

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not going kick boxing with you, I wouldn't stand a fucking chance, look at her arms, Joe," you pointed with your beer bottle before taking a sip, and your friend laughed before she flexed. 

Joe leant over to touch, and then beckoned you to do the same to your arm for comparison. You were quick to also try to flex your bicep, but Joe was already laughing. 

"Yea, that wouldn't work." he made your friend laugh too.

"I know what you need..." Joe then said, sitting back in his chair and taking a swig from his beer. He almost looked arrogant, so self-assured that it was almost a little disgusting. 

You made eye-contact with your friend in suspense of what Joe was going to say and both managed to hold back your laughter.

"Let me help you out tonight." 

Your friend raised her eyebrows and made big eyes at you, confusion and slight shock displayed over her features. 

"I'll make sure you'll get the best sex of your life," Joe then said, and your eyes danced from Joe to your friend a couple of times.

Her jaw had dropped.

"You should join us," Joe then said all casual, inviting your friend, who then let out a loud nervous laugh and you caught the slight panic in her face. 

You realised how she had interpreted Joe's words. 

"He means, come with us; he wants to go out," you clarified, and your friend visibly relaxed. 

"Oh, thank God! I was about to say, join you two for a threesome?" she huffed, making you laugh loudly at the absurd suggestion. 

Not Joe, though. 

"Sure, we could do that too, if you want?" Joe raised his eyebrows at you, pointed with his beer bottle and pushed his chin up, giving you earnest questioning eyes. 

"Nope, I’m good, thanks," you said, smiling and scrunching your nose at him, making him chuckle. 

Your friend let suspicious eyes travel between the two of you, before shaking her head a little and inhaling sharply. 

You’d talked about this before.

At length.

The way that you and Joe would flirt with each other teetered on, and sometimes crossed the line in her eyes, but you had always said that it was never anything tangible. 

You and Joe were just friends who made each other laugh that way, and you were sure Joe felt the same.  

Was all banter.

Nothing serious.

"Are you in for a night out, though? Could call the boys, get a small group together?" Joe asked the both of you. 

You contemplated if you really felt like going out tonight. You'd had a lot of carbs, and didn't exactly feel very sexy, but... then again, Joe had said that you could have the flat the next time, which instantly made you feel more comfortable with the idea of scouting for a hook-up. 

However, getting dressed up and having to redo your hair and make-up all together felt like too much effort. 

No.

Not tonight. 

Maybe tomorrow?

"No, I promised someone I'd watch Vikings with him," your friend said, deciding for you, checking her phone for the time and quickly taking a few more sips of beer. She had to leave. 

"And, you know, hopefully I’ll also be treated to the best sex of my life," she joked, making eyes at you and pushed her half empty beer bottle over to you for you to finish later. 

"Ugh, alright, go on off to your boyfriend, who actually knows what you like in bed," you sarcastically frowned with your eyes closed, mocking exaggerated frustration. 

"Yea well, if you'd put the effort in to maybe sleep with the same guy more than, I don't know, three times? That would probably help. They sort of tend to learn as they go." 

"Or, sometimes, they can just be really good the first time," Joe said, obviously referencing himself. 

The both of you scoffed and almost laughed at Joe’s comment. 

"Read the room, Joe," your friend said as you followed her to the door. 

“They never are.”

Joe frowned through a smile as you disappeared into the hallway. He didn’t like that comment at all, but kept quiet. Said nothing and let it go. It’d be a losing battle, anyway, but he couldn’t help but let it nibble at him a little.

Joe was good. Joe was good the first time.

Joe was just as good the first time as he was the tenth, and he fucking knew that to be true. 

You said goodbye to your friend at the door, promised to see each other next week for lunch, told her to say hi to her boyfriend from you, and then you closed the door behind her. 

You jumped when you turned around and Joe was stood right behind you. 

“Jesus, don’t– you fucking scared me,”   

"So? Are we heading out?" Joe asked, eyes hopeful, because he had something to prove to himself now. 

In the end, you hadn’t headed out. 

You had shaken your head, told Joe no, you were tired and felt a little sore. You demonstrated by stretching your arms up high, yawning as you did. 

Joe had seen the sliver of bare skin of your stomach as your top had raised a little in the action, and he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away until it disappeared again when you let your arms fall limply beside your body. 

When you’d brought up a nail to bite, ready to step around Joe and head back into the living room, Joe had been quick to pull it away from your mouth to inspect. 

Your nails had all been bitten down to near non-existence.

Telling, Joe thought.

He made eye-contact with you for just a second before promptly yanking you forward by the arm, bending down just enough, and slinging you over his shoulder. Joe lifted you up like you were weightless, strong arm around your waist that kept you in place whilst the other wrapped around the back of your thighs.

You’d shrieked as he’d hauled you off to his bedroom and had let you fall down onto his bed where he didn’t waste any time to plonk himself right on top of you. 

“I wasn’t joking,” Joe had then said. 

“I know what you need.”

Uh oh.

“I’ve got you.” 

And the eyes he’d made at you then made you realise he was actually being serious. 

“Joe, stop, we can’t.” 

You kind of wanted it, though.

“I don’t need to be complicating my life more,” you tried to move, but didn’t really do your best, and Joe held you in place. 

Your face was having a hard time hiding a smile.

“Think of it as... think of it as cracking your neck. We’ll just be… we’ll be cracking each other’s.” Joe reasoned.

“A friend helping a friend.” Joe moved a little, shimmied on top of you and looked down towards your chest before finding your eyes again. Then, in a much softer tone of voice, he said, “Think of how relaxed you’ll feel after.” 

And then you had hesitated. 

Hesitated. 

You couldn’t believe yourself. 

The absence of an immediate no had made Joe dip down and kiss you, and you blamed the beers you’d had for not stopping him. Blamed the mood you’d been in for kissing him back. Blamed your friend’s comments about being so tense lately for letting the kiss grow deeper. 

And now, here you were.

In Joe’s bed.

Telling Joe had you didn’t need your neck kissed because you didn’t need Joe knowing what you liked. 

Joe paused and hovered over you which made you still your movements in response. For a second you just looked at each other. 

“I’ll bet you a tenner I already know what you like,” 

“What- Joe,”

“You know what I like,” Joe raised his eyebrows and shot his eyes down in between you where you had fingers wrapped around his girth and fingers playing with his nuts. 

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Men are– you’re all the same,” you started moving your hands again, instantly getting soft grunts out of Joe.

“And, fuck... and women aren’t?” Joe challenged, trying his very best to keep his mind with what you were saying rather than what you were doing to him, and he ran a lone finger from the side of your ribcage down over your stomach. 

It made you shiver, and he smirked as he proved his point. 

“There’s overlapping, some gen– some general things, sure, but there’s always spe- oh,” Joe took your earlobe into his mouth to suck. 

“Specifics,” he then finished for you and felt him smile against your skin, his hot breath cool on the wet patches he’d left behind. 

What had been agreed upon to just be cracking each other’s necks quickly turned into trying to get the loudest noises out of the other, both of you too competitive for your own good. 

It wasn’t as if you cared about losing out on ten pounds to Joe, it was just that... you knew you were right and really wanted to prove it. 

“You— fuck, that's good, you're so— oh, my God,” Joe dropped his head against your shoulder, had to squeeze his eyes shut and tried to think of something else.

You were counting kegels, tensing your pelvic floor muscles rhythmically when Joe was kind enough to give your vagina a second to adjust to him. It was a sweet gesture, not one granted by every guy you’d ever slept with, but you had immediately taken advantage of the moment to make him squirm for you.

“Yea?” you wrapped your legs around him tightly to keep him in place. To push him deeper inside of you.

“Stop— shit, stop squeezing, you’re going to make me come,” Joe pressed fingers into your hip in a bid to make you stop moving, but it did nothing to stop you from squeezing your core. 

You grinned at Joe when he had to fight against the grip of your legs to pull out entirely in order to catch his breath. 

“Jesus, you do that to guys, and then they don’t eat you out?” Joe wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

“Well, they try,” you mused.

You saw Joe look down at you, and then his eyes flicked up to meet yours. 

“Can I try?” he used his hands to rub up and down your outer thighs as he sat back. 

Yes, you thought. 

You weren’t going to just outwardly say that though.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re probably no good at it,” you smiled sweetly, almost empathically at him, as if you felt sincerely sorry for his inability. 

Your comment did exactly what you wanted it to do; it hit Joe right in the centre of his ego. 

He scoffed at you, taking huge offense, and immediately moved down into position.

You knew it was because of your own doing, and you couldn’t pretend you didn’t want Joe there, but you absolutely couldn’t look at him between your legs. Seeing Joe latch his mouth onto your mound was too much, and in an attempt to avoid it, you let your head fall back into the pillows and promised yourself that it’d stay there so you could at least try to pretend it was someone else expertly lapping at you with their tongue.

Joe kissed you slowly, and his tongue was quick to find the good spots. 

You held your breath, and when Joe didn’t get any response from you, he used more pressure. Did everything a little harder.

“Shit,” you moaned, exhaling, and almost automatically, you let your legs fall down wider, knees even further apart. 

Joe chuckled, and the sound of his voice made you reach for a pillow to pull over your face. You used both hands to softly press the fabric to your ears in a bid to block Joe out entirely. 

Joe let his tongue swirl up and down, paid close attention to what got the most sounds out of you, and he had you panting in no time. 

When he started sucking, you couldn’t help the volume of your own voice as loud moans escaped you, but the muffled sound them made Joe look up.

“Hey, no, look at me,” Joe reached and fisted the fabric of his pillow, pulling it away from you and tossing it to the floor.

“No, I can’t—” you gasped moans, unable to finish your sentence, hands clambering behind your head to find another one to hide your face behind. 

But Joe was fast and had his mouth back on you to suck and lick, devouring you completely and before you knew it, you were arching into the fingers that had found your insides. 

Your hands stopped looking for a pillow and reached for Joe’s head instead. 

“You can’t what?” Joe asked in between firm kisses, as if you were able to have a single straight thought to coherently communicate at this moment. 

“Hmm?” he hummed questioningly against you, almost mocking you as you felt shooting sparks all throughout your body.

“Keep— fuck, keep going,” you felt yourself clench around his fingers involuntarily as they worked the sensitive spot inside you. 

You knew Joe could feel it too, because you felt him try to pull back a little. 

No.

No fucking way.

You weren’t going to let Joe edge you – you’d felt your orgasm build slowly and decided you needed it. 

You needed it now. 

So you kept Joe in place, your hands holding his head firmly against you and you could feel him grin. 

“Keep going I said,” you grunted, barely able to get the words out as your hips started bucking, and Joe had to use more strength to keep you in place.

He kept going. Did as he was told. 

It didn’t take much longer for the pulses inside of you to intensify, crashing into your orgasm, leaving you a moaning, squirming, wet mess under Joe’s mouth and fingers. 

You were all arched back, heavy breaths, eyes seeing stars, with an unwavering roommate between your legs, sucking on your throbbing flesh, dragging out the waves of your orgasm until you completely relaxed and let go of Joe’s head as he withdrew his fingers. 

For a second, you weren't really there. 

You were floating somewhere between Joe’s bed and the ceiling and it was gloriously blissful up there.

Sort of fuzzy.

Everything soft, and sweet.

For a second, there was no bad in the world, and it was lovely. It was all very lovely, until you looked down at yourself and you saw the state of affairs for what they truly were. 

“Oh no,” you groaned, eyes firmly shut, because, what the fuck had you done?

-----

The Taglisted: @ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @nobody-000 @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @thefemininemystiquee @dirtyeddietini @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson - add yourself  

[mizkit]

new blog post: A-conventioning I go

new blog post on https://mizkit.com/a-conventioning-i-go/

A-conventioning I go

This weekend I went to the National Irish SF Convention, Octocon, for the first time in *years*. Since 2017, I’m pretty sure.

It was lovely to see everyone. I wasn’t sure until Friday that I was going at all, so I didn’t mention it to anybody except one friend, so people were Very Surprised Indeed to see me, and almost immediately upon arrival I was invited to do a panel, which was both flattering and funny.

Furthermore, to my delight, the panel was with my friend, the magnificently talented Sarah Rees Brennan, who was ALSO the guest of honor, and in whose presence I basked as much as possible while I was there. :) She did a great panel on ‘the rise of the Gothic,’ which made me think much more deeply about Gothic as…everything…than I ever had before, so that was really interesting, and her guest interview, conducted by our OTHER friend RF Long was funny, quick-witted, and interesting.

And then we were on the panel together, about why we/people like villains, and that had some great discussion, too, so it felt really successful, overall. I didn’t get a lot of chance to talk to most people very long, mostly greetings and “aaagh” and then doing that again with someone else, but it was *really* nice to see everyone. I’m very glad I went. ♥

Also, I really appreciate that Octocon had a masking policy this year, and that nearly everyone complied, at least within the convention boundaries. Good job, Octocon…ians? ’cause Octonauts are something else. :)

(Ok, my friend Dónal wanted to know if we got a Creature Report, after I made the Octonauts comment, so this is his fault:

Convention report! Convention report!

Octocon’s villanous theme was Sarah Rees Brennan’s dream! Siding with the villainy were some gothic houses to study! And then to keep things light they had a Barbie chat all night!

Now they’re done with the mission!

Octocon at ease, until the next convention!)