#i don't think i really need an entire week for this but one day is too short

[pajarinwrites]

中秋节 | Wen Junhui x Reader

➳ fem!reader x jun

➳ wc: 6.1k

➳ TAGS: idol!au, established relationship

➳ WARNINGS: omg um, cunnilingus, jun is a SIMP, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it, my dudes), praise, just general adorable lovey dovey softness, but like medium rough sex? ig, not really rough?, i never know how to write warnings, just like i don't know how to write smut woops sorry

➳ AN: HAPPY MID AUTUMN FESTIVAL BITCHES and 女王们; this is only moderately edited bc i actually meant to publish smt for 中秋节 last year but i didn't finish it in time so here it is now (I’m sure it’s still autumn festival somewhere in the world…)! I LOVE WEN JUNHUI

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT I HATED THIS AHHHH i don't think i'll ever be able to write any smut in which the man isn't a simpering, whimpering, submissive, cowering, crawling, obsequious little simping piece of trash; it's just how i like my men, but i kinda wanna challenge myself some time, not this time though :P also i'm low-key proud of this smut? i used miraclewoozi as an inspiration bc their smut is literal art...

also, literally three pieces in one week??? WHO AM I??? this is more than in the entire year before combined, i fear lmao. sorry. i'm off to return to hibernate in my bog for another six months now thx bye, RIN OUT *drops mic

masterlist

Jun stepped out of the airport into the sweltering heat, but had to find that merely knowing the weather conditions was quite different from being prepared for them. Luckily, he had left enough space in his carry-on to take off the jacket and sweater that he had needed in chilly Seoul and during the flight – airplane ACs were notoriously unpredictable. Despite this, Hong Kong never seized to amaze him with its constant warmth. At least the eternal sunshine gave him a good excuse to wear a cap and sunglasses at all times.

He flagged down a cross-border cab because, frankly, he didn’t feel like taking the crowded metro all the way home. This way he saved himself from a lot of heat, hassle, and the potential of being recognised, even if it delayed him. As expected, the traffic in the city was a nightmare and he did make it home later than strictly necessary. He paid the fee, dodging the driver’s interested gaze, and mumbling a small “mh gōi” before dashing into his building.

When he was finally standing in front of his apartment door, Jun felt ready to just lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. That was, until the door opened to reveal his parents and little brother. Immediately, his frown softened and he dropped his bags to engulf them in one enormous hug.

“I missed you guys so much,” he exclaimed to groans from his little brother and a soft smile from his mother.

This was most likely going to be the last chance he got to spend more than a day or two with them. With their world tour and his busy filming schedule just around the corner, he wouldn’t have time for months.

Jun had spent years of Zhōngqiūjié apart from them. It wasn’t easy to watch most of his members be able to visit their homes and spend Chuseok with their loved ones. Some years it was only him, Minghao, and Joshua in the dorms. But he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not when he could finally hold the people he loved the most in his arms. Well, most of them at any rate. He would never get used to having to choose between his biological and his chosen family.

His mother peeled herself away from him, squeezing his cheek and insisting that he had grown even more handsome over the last few weeks.  His step father clapped him on the shoulder and asked him about the flight; his brother asked if he had brought him anything cool. Unable to stop smiling for even a second, Jun assented to both questions. He was led to the living room by his mother to sit and relax after the ‘strenuous journey’, giving him a moment to fish the presents out of his luggage, handing one off to his little brother.

“Thanks, gē!” YangYang exclaimed and bounded off to his room to open it in peace. Their mother called after him, “Don’t forget to do your homework before playing! Dinner will be ready in an hour!” Jun smiled, handing his parents the other one.

“You shouldn’t have! I keep telling you we don’t need anything.”

“But I want to get you guys nice things, mā.”

She looked trapped half-way between smitten and resigned, but accepted the present gracefully. With a kiss on the top of his head she stated, “You can rest a little before I call you boys for dinner. I’m making your favourite.”

He thanked her, foregoing the idea of retiring to his room in favour of joining his mother in the kitchen. Most of the ingredients were already laid out on the counter, but when she bent down to pick up something from the bottom shelf, she gasped, “I can’t believe it! Where did all of our rice noodles go? I don’t think this is enough. And I also forgot to buy bamboo shoots earlier!”

She turned around, apologetically, and murmured about having to go to the market real quick to get some. Jun held out his hand to stop her in her tracks.

“Don’t worry, mā. I’ll go get the missing ingredients, and you can get started on the other dishes.”

“No let me go, Jun. You’ve just had a taxing flight and—“ His step-father tried to intervene.

“It’s absolutely no problem!” Jun insisted, not paying his parents’ protests any mind. He grabbed his sunglasses from the side table by the entrance and was out the door before either of them could stop him.

Jun had missed their shèqū, its homely atmosphere, the bustling of the people on the street, and hence didn’t mind the opportunity for a late-night stroll. The closest super market was just down the short road at the main square, and he stopped by quickly before continuing on his way to the live market.

There was a certain nostalgia in going to the market like this, just the way he used to with his mother when he was younger. The stalls didn’t even seem to have changed at all. There was the same group of old ladies dancing in the small park to the side, and a little further down the road, a small group of children was taking turns, performing on a gǔzhēng. Jun watched the windows of his old piano school pass by, still partially lit as students practiced inside. At the corner of the next street was the second-hand book store they had often visited, next to the pharmacy in which he used to sit on the kiddie rides for ages, singing along to jiātíng chēnghu or liǎng zhī lǎohǔ.

Still lost in nostalgia, he stopped by one of the vegetable vendors to acquire the bamboo shoots. Jun enjoyed strolling the aisles leisurely, taking a look at all the things that were being sold. As he rounded one of the displays, someone else was cutting the corner in the opposite direction. Jun barely managed to dance out of the trajectory of them, murmuring an immediate, “Sorry, are you okay?”

He pulled down his sunglasses and looked at the person in front of him in worry. They looked up, locked eyes with him and whisper-screamed, “Oh my god! Wen Junhui?”

Jun was taken aback for only a split second, which he spent worrying he had been recognised, before he could place your face. He hadn’t seen you properly in years, just another name on the long list of people he had to leave behind. The last time you had run into each other had been during Rock With You promotions, when Minghao and he had taken time for their own schedules in China. His eyes crinkled in the corners but he still didn’t dare to take off his mask.

“It’s been so long!” He said instead. You had pulled him into your arms within a second, just a quick squeeze before remembering where you were. You pulled away, pouting, “You didn’t tell me you’d be back.”

“Sorry, it slipped my mind. I also didn’t think I’d have enough time to meet you. Not properly…”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “What does that mean?” Jun blushed, making you laugh. “I’m kidding, A-Jun. But I’m glad we ran into each other. I mean, what are the odds!”

“I didn’t even know whether you still lived here,” he admitted, sheepishly. But Jun wished profoundly that you could feel how earnest he was being. You didn’t actually seem to mind his failure to alert you of his arrival, despite your history. Instead, you continued in your usual chirpy manner, “Yeah, I managed to find work close by so I could stay here. But I’m here here just for the holiday. Staying at my parents, you know.” Jun nodded, accompanying you to the register under more animated chatter.

“Do you have to get anything else?” You asked after you had stepped out the open market. He negated, returning the question.

“Me neither,” you replied, hesitating shortly before continuing, “I guess that means we’ll have to part ways again…”

The way your voice trailed off and your eyebrows knitted together made Jun reply before thinking better of it, “Actually, I think my mā can wait for these bamboo shoots a little longer…” You face lit up with such intensity and immediacy that Jun had to chuckle.

“In that case let’s take a stroll through the park. I’ve been keeping up with Seventeen obviously, but I want to hear from you, personally, how you’ve been doing.”

Falling into step beside you felt so easy. Together, you walked the same paths you did when you were teenagers, talking about everything and anything – back before he had to leave for Korea. He talked a lot about the shoots, dorm fights and misunderstandings, and how much he had missed his mother’s cooking. You winked, asking whether he hadn’t missed you at all, and he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence in reply. Instead he sputtered for a few seconds before you let him off the hook.

“It’s fine. I was joking, Jun. Oh, look!” Jun was glad for the distraction as he watched you hurry of to the pavilion down the path. If you hadn’t changed the subject he might’ve said something stupid. But when you spun around to face him under the colourful roof, with the small pond and the bamboo in the background, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t say something stupid yet.

He was sitting next to you, listening to you rant about your catty co-workers, absent boss, and the general annoyances of adulthood, unable to stop himself from grinning like an idiot at the familiarity, the ease of the whole situation. At some point he shot his mom a text to let her know that he ran into you and to eat without him. She simply replied that he should take his time, but he felt like she was secretly glad to have the two of you reconnect. Your conversations veered from family to old memories together until eventually, when the sun had set almost completely, you got up abruptly.

“I should get back. My mom wasn’t expecting me back immediately but at this point she’s probably wondering if I’ve gotten lost.” Jun nodded, getting up with you and stepping out of the pavilion. You threw one look back over your shoulder before smiling down at your shoes.

“I don’t know if you remember but… this is where you said goodbye…” Jun blinked slowly before the memory registered. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t immediately thought of the day he went to Korea, the last day he spent with you, the day he missed his chance to say so many things he had wanted to say.

“Oh,” he breathes softly, “yeah, I remember. But it’s not a very fun memory.”

Jun decides to look anywhere but you, at the trees lining the road home to his apartment building, the birds flying overhead, the children playing across the street.

“I have to agree. But I’m glad to have you back now. Even if it’s just for an afternoon.”

“Actually, you should visit tomorrow! If you want, of course. I don’t think my family would mind seeing you again after such a long time, and…”

He stops in his tracks. The two of you have reached the intersection at which your ways part. Jun turned to face you. The words were still stuck in his throat, just like all those years ago, just like every time he’s seen you since. But this time, with your hopeful eyes looking up at him, he takes a deep breath. This time will be different. He takes the leap.

“… and I’d also love to spend more time with you.”

You smile in reply, and agree to visit tomorrow. To say goodbye, you hug him again, and he feels like he’s floating all the way home. Maybe tomorrow he’ll gain the courage to tell you everything that he’s been keeping in his heart.

Their dorms were quiet, the shared living areas swallowed in darkness as Jun excited his room. He had been talking to his family via video call for the past hour or two, catching up and trying their best to celebrate Zhōngqiūjié together, even when they were physically apart. You had initially planned on joining the call, but there had been last minute plans that had kept you from it. Even though Jun understood, he had been able to help feeling a little crestfallen when you had told him about it. The two of you had made it work since he confessed to you a year ago, talking almost weekly on the phone because both his and your commitments kept you from visiting all too often. And since this year he couldn’t visit home because of the impeding comeback, he would’ve at least enjoyed talking to you on the holiday proper, instead of just during one of your regularly scheduled calls. Especially with how long it had been since he’d last seen you in person in June. To him, an eternity.

Vernon, Dokyeom, and Chan had returned to their families for the evening to celebrate Chuseok together, leaving the dorm deserted, save Jun himself. They’d all met up for lunch as a celebration before most left to go home. It was an effort by the Korean members to ease the homesickness of those that wouldn’t be able to see their families over the holiday. Seungkwan had ended up accompanying Vernon, while Joshua and Minghao decided to simply celebrate with each other, even though they hadn’t been lacking in invitations either. Jun had made the same decision. They had let him know they’d be out until the night but that he could join them at their apartment later.

Especially Dokyeom had had a hard time simply leaving Jun behind, but the older man had insisted that he was going to be fine, and that it would give him a chance to call his family in China. But coming out of his room and being greeted with a cold, dark apartment, made Jun question his decision. He sighed, contemplating for a second whether he should simply return to his room instead of feeling the hollow emptiness of their shared dorm. But before he could make a decision, the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting anyone, so the sudden shrill of the bell surprised him. Maybe it was one of the members, back early. Maybe Minghao and Joshua had decided to surprise him at the apartment. But when he looked at the screen of the camera system, he was greeted with a sight wholly unexpected. His breath hitched as he looked at you, your eyes staring straight at the camera, a warm smile on your face. Jun buzzed you in, jittery with nerves as he worried you might disappear or he might wake up. You had been talking about your crazy workload and extra assignments for the past few weeks, how on earth were you here?

This has to be a dream, he thought, standing in the open door and waiting for the tell-tale ping of the elevator. When he heard it, he couldn’t even wait for you to round the corner. In slippers, he sprinted down the hallway to the lift, coming face to face with you as you were trying to heave your luggage out. Jun cast it aside, picking you up and spinning you around. He buried his face in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume and your skin.

“How are you here?” He whispered after a good few seconds of spinning and listening to your tinkling laugh.

“Well, you know, I bought a plane ticket, went to the airport in Hong Kong, I got on a plane—“ Jun interrupted you by picking you up again, proclaiming his happiness while you insisted that he finally put you down. If he had been a better man, he might’ve listened immediately. As it stood, it took the two of you several minutes to make it the short way from the elevator to his apartment door, Jun stopping every few seconds to give you another spin or a kiss.

Once you had finally made it safely inside, he brought your luggage to his room, before returning to the shared space and staring at you in fascination. There you were, right in front of him, leaning onto the counters of his dorm’s kitchen as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“How did you know I’d be home?” He asked and you giggled, presumably at his flabbergasted expression.

“I kind of asked the members for help…”

“What? Who?”

In hindsight, he thought he should’ve expected this. There had been a curious lack of invitations extended to him this year. Especially considering that Joshua and Minghao were still invited everywhere. And, thinking about it now, the fact that the two of them had insisted on spending the evening ‘outside’ without Jun had also been more than a little suspicious.

“Almost all of them helped coordinate it, actually. They all had to be in on it to some extent.”

“When did you start planning this?” He asked, making his way over to you. One last time, he picked you up, setting you down softly on the counter. This time you let him do as he pleased without protest, choosing to answer his question instead, “Like a month ago or so. When it started becoming clear that you’d have no chance to make it home this year.” Jun hummed in response, stepping closer to stand between your legs. His arms found their place around your waist.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing deeply when he felt you wrap your arms around him. He wished you could stay like this forever, or at least for a very, very long time. You turned your head, whispering that you had brought yuèbǐng from Shenzhen with you and he nodded automatically. Mentally, he was still focused only on your presence, the fact that he got to hold you in his arms and use his thumbs to draw absentminded circles on your waist. If he hadn’t been so focused on your body, he would’ve missed the small hitch of your breath as he exhaled against the column of your throat. He smirked lightly, murmuring something along the lines of ‘we can eat them later’ before attaching his lips to the place where your shoulder and neck met. You gasped, more audibly this time as he sucked on the sensitive skin, following the line of your collarbone. You tugged at his t-shirt, whispering that you should move to his bedroom but Jun smirked against your skin, slowly pushing up your shirt. As he tossed it over your head, he whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves all night.”

He smoothed his hands under your thighs, grabbing onto your plush flesh and cursing the layer of your pants for stopping him from feeling your skin. Jun pulled you closer, to the edge of the counter, so that he could finally feel you pressed to him again, making his hands wander back up. He placed them on your waist, gingerly at first, as if you were going to vanish into thin air if he didn’t handle you with enough care. He still wasn’t sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination how you were sitting in front of him, hair and clothes messy from your flight, but your eyes shining so brightly he thought you were the most ethereal being on this planet. But when you bucked your hips forward against his, all that restrain flew out the window. He slid his hands lower from your waist, relishing in every inch of skin he got to touch along the way, before he settled them on your ass, encouraging your motions even further. Your arms tightened around him, one hand finding its way into his hair, the other toying with the collar of his t-shirt before slipping downwards and below the fabric to caress his back. He groaned, moving one hand - albeit reluctantly – away from your hips to tilt your head to the side. He was overwhelmed with your nearness, the swell of your breasts pressed against him, the smell of your skin filling his senses, spreading through him, expanding into every corner of his consciousness until all he could perceive was your presence, your breath, your skin on his.

You kissed him with so much vigour that he felt light-headed, the sparkle of your eyes encapsulated him, as if he was floating in space, surrounded by innumerable stars, twinkling around him. In his weightlessness, your hands were caressing him, still. You dropped them to the hem of his t-shirt, tracing along the exposed skin there as the rhythm of your hips never faltered.

You broke away, Jun following your lips with a whine. He wasn’t yet ready to leave your cosmos, but you pressed a soft hand against his chest, tugging his shirt off. Jun, personally, would have preferred to resume kissing you breathless right away, but you had other plans. Your hands returned to his chest, covering the expanse of his pectorals, gliding over the ridge of his shoulder, caressing every centimetre of skin while tracing the muscles across his torso. Every touch left a tingling feeling, pulling him deeper and deeper into your gravitation. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes screwed shut while he tried (and failed) to even out his breathing under your attentive ministrations. When your hands returned to his chest and you flicked against his nipples tentatively, his head dropped forward in defeat, colliding with your shoulder.

He was breathing more heavily than he’d like to admit, as if he really was slowly rising through the atmosphere, the air becoming thinner and thinner. His cock was painfully hard, you grinding against it deliciously with every roll of your hips. Separated by way too many layers, Jun thought dimly before tapping against your ass, signalling for you to lift your hips off the counter.

You complied easily, leaning back in a way that allowed him to strip you of your comfy leggings. He watched you shudder at the feeling of cool marble under your skin, goosebumps forming at the sensation. Reverently, he let his hands glide up and down your legs, watching you shiver again, just from his touch. He hadn’t even realised that he had lowered himself down until one of your hands grabbed for his hair and tilted his head back.

Ripped out of his reverie, Jun stared up at you, towering over him, backlit by the kitchen lights. If it hadn’t meant leaving your reach, Jun would have fallen to his knees right this second. In this light, you looked like a higher being, come to cast divine judgement on him, a final reckoning. Jun found he would have taken any verdict, as long as it meant preserving your attention. He would have obliged any command, taken any punishment with equanimity. He would have taken Prometheus’ place, if it meant he could bask in your presence for another moment. He would suffer any acrimony, any scorn, any tribulation, if it meant your gaze would continue to rest on him like this – zeroed in on his face, your expression soft with adoration. He didn’t have to fear any judgment. The only thing written on your face was love. It was mirroring his own, he was sure, from where he was pleading for you attention from between your legs. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, your fingers tugging at his hair with purpose. He angled his head, a miniscule movement, just enough to allow him to breathe a kiss against the inside of your thigh, a fluttering promise of continuation. If you let him. You loosened your grip, and Jun took it as the invitation that it was. His path mapped over the fat of your thigh, spilling over his kitchen counters, up one leg, down the other. All the while, he didn’t break eye contact, watching your expression crackle and slip, pleasure and frustration mixing in even measures as you breathed a plea, “Qīn'ài de, you’re teasing.”

His breathing became uneven, for just a second, at the term of endearment. You didn’t need to spell out your request. He could see it in the rise and fall of your chest, the sounds sneaking their way past your lips, the shifting of your hips – almost involuntary. The vision of you before him blurred as he tried to hear the rest of your declaration over the rushing in his ears. Your legs twitched under his hands; he didn’t remember when he had moved them there. But now they were here, holding your legs apart, leaving imprints in your flesh where they pressed against you. Jun searched your face for any sign of hesitance, any doubt, but he found none. All he could find was a sense of desperation clawing its way up your throat, leaving a blooming blush in its wake.

He still continued holding your gaze when he pressed his mouth to your core, pushing his tongue against the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped a little, hands twisting in his hair, the slight pain grounding him in this moment. His hands continued kneading your flesh, wandering, in feverish haste, across every expanse of skin they could cover. Above him, you writhed and moaned, his name leaving your lips as if you were now the one praying. Your head had tilted back slightly, breaking eye contact. But Jun’s gaze never left your face, drinking in every expression as he pushed your panties to the side to gain proper access to your sopping core.

“OhmygodJun,” you breathed, head lolling to the side when his tongue swirled around your most sensitive spot. One hand moved from your ass to your core, probing at your entrance just to feel you clench around him, hear the sharp intake of your breath. You tipped backwards, resting on your elbows as his name continued to tumble off your lips into the still air of the apartment. Jun’s other hand moved upwards, taking no care in pushing your sports bra out the way to grab at your breasts, pinching your nipples intermittently. He watched your chest heave as he slipped two fingers past your entrance at once, his tongue lapping between them, desperate to taste as much of you as possible. Your hands kept pushing him closer and closer, until his every sense was filled with you. Your taste on his tongue, your panting breath in his ears, the plush feeling of your thighs around his head. He moaned against your core.

Jun felt your high approach, maybe knew it was coming before you yourself even did, the way he could read your body in this moment, with how every fibre of his being was honed in on you and your pleasure.

“Jun, bǎobèi, I’m…”

His hand slid down to your waist, squeezing reassuringly. Jun felt you constrict around his digits, your moans growing louder and more desperate. He kept pressing his fingers into that spot that had you squeeze around him, kept his mouth sucking on your clit, humming at the flavour of you, until you peaked. You came with a cry of his name that made his chest swell with pride. Your thighs shut around his head like a vice, your hand evidently torn between wanting to pull him away and push him closer. Jun remained pressed to your core, lazily lapping at your release until your legs relaxed and he gained enough freedom of movement to lean back and search for your gaze.

Even though he had spent minutes staring at the ethereal picture of you earlier, he was still taken aback by your beauty: your hair even messier, your face blushed, your eyes glazed over in the hazy afterglow. He pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

It took you a few moments to answer him, calming your breath. A moment of which he took advantage to return to his full height, leaving kisses up your body on his way there. Once he was face to face with you, he brushed your hair out of your face, looking at you with devotion. You smiled back, softly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and immediately causing a warm shiver to run down the length of his body. There you were, in his arms, gazing at him with love, bestowing him with whatever divine favour slumbered in your presence.

You leaned in closer, letting your breath ghost over his skin for a second before whispering, “I need you.”

Jun was sure he was about to malfunction. The way his body reacted instantly, unbidden, must have been proof of your power. He couldn’t suppress the groan that rose to the surface, betraying his helplessness in the face of you. But you only smiled, sliding off the counter, tossing your bra to the side, and leaning into him.

“I know you need me too, baby,” you susurrated against the shell of his ear, your hand falling to his crotch, smoothing over the outline of his cock against his sweatpants. Jun gasped when you gave his balls a squeeze, trailing your fingers back up, pressing them into his slit, already oozing with precum and staining his pants. He felt like melting, like he was Icarus and you were the sun, with the notable exception that your radiance was warm and welcoming. It didn’t burn him, it only made him feel soft, welcome, malleable. He melted at your touch, moulded himself to the shape of you.

Although Jun felt it was very much stating the obvious, he conceded, “I want you so bad.”

You smiled, discarding your panties in a swift motion, before turning around and bending over the surface.

“Then come get me.”

He only stared, transfixed by the way your muscles moved under your skin, how the warm kitchen light of his home cascaded over you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you turned around to smirk at him. Jun’s mind was still fighting with the fact that you were real, you were here, and you were his. You cocked an eyebrow, watching him like a cat watched its supper. When he still continued to stare, your eyes darkened, beckoning him with intensity. You wiggled your ass at him, pushing it back so it grazed his throbbing dick. As you threatened to pull away again, Jun’s hands flew to your hips. You yelped at the sudden strength with which he gripped you, pulling you back against him once more, grinding down against your ass with such verve that your head dropped forward. A long groan escaped you as Jun crowded you against the counter, pushing you down and leaning over your back.

“You need me, huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically while meeting his thrusts, moaning his name again and again, and growing more breathless by the second. Jun wanted to tease you, he really did. He wanted to ask you how bad you needed him. He wanted to force you to be more specific, to hear you say how you needed to feel his cock inside you, hitting that spot over and over again. He wanted to make your pretty lips form all those filthy words, say his name, beg for him. But it had been months since he had seen you in person, it felt like an eternity had passed since his skin was last allowed to touch yours, a lifetime since he heard you whimper and moan and pant for him like this. So, he forewent any more teasing. Instead, Jun simply shoved his sweatpants and underwear down his legs, freeing his cock.

You whined at the sound of it hitting his abs, wiggling your ass again and breathing out his name in that way he would never grow tired of. He grinned, sliding his dick through your slick, nipping its tip against your clit, once, twice, three times. So many times that you whimpered, an indistinguishable string of supplications, whines of baby, please please please leaving your lips. Your forehead was pressed against the counter now, as if the cold, hard surface helped ground you in reality while Jun had his way with you.

When, finally, he slipped into you, both of you sighed. You voices mixing in the air of the kitchen that seemed to have been growing thinner by the second. Jun’s breathing was growing ragged, and he could tell you weren’t faring much better than him. He started moving, slowly at first, testing the waters and, yes, possibly also to rile you up a little more. But when you clenched around him, any self-control was thrown out the window. His hands on your lower back were shoving you down against the ice-cold surface, making you hiss. His hips snapping against your ass as he searched for that spot that would make you drool over the marble countertops.

“Fuck… yes! Baby, right there,” you groaned when he found it.

Jun leaned back down over you, his front pressed against your back, his hot breath by your ear, whispered prayers of your name escaping him. He drove into that spot relentlessly, repeatedly until you lost all function of speech, reduced only to swears and his name. Jun mirrored your vocabulary, one hand sneaking around your body to find your clit again and rub punishing circles. With the added stimulation of his hand, the pressure of his weight, and the way his cock was hitting that spongy part inside you again and again, you felt your pleasure crest alarmingly fast.

“Junjunjunjunjun,” you breathed, but, again, he somehow had known before you what was coming. His groans surrounded you, your perception narrowed to just the feeling and sound of him.

“Hold on a little longer, baby,” he breathed, and you barely registered it. Just nodding for the sake of nodding, praying his own release would find him fast.

“Doing so well, baby. So good for me,” he continued, almost to himself, baiting your release even more.

A few agonising, timeless moments passed until, “That’s it, let go. Come for me, baby. Come with me.”

Immediately, you released a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, you head falling forward again as your whole body tensed up. Jun followed your example, his head dropping against your shoulder as he drove his cock into you, prolonging both of your releases as much as possible, until the sensitivity forced him to pull out. He remained folded over you, so close that he could feel his cum drip out of you, landing on the kitchen floor with a small splat. The air felt too thin for any movement, so he remained draped over you, his thumb drew circles on your lower back until you returned to him, mumbling his name.

“Are you alright, qīn'ài de?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your hair sticking to the nape of your neck. Jun brushed it to the side, leaving a small peck where it had been.

“Nooo,” you whined, “I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care,” he replied, matter-of-factly, smoothing his hand down your back one last time before peeling himself off you to get some tissue. His heart tore a little at the weak whine you let out in response to his absence.

“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to take care of you.”

You only whined more when he wiped the rest of your combined release from between your legs before also cleaning the floor. He caught your eyes from over your shoulder, smiling softly, and leaving another kiss on your back. After getting rid of the tissue, he pulled you off the counter, wrapping you up in his arms.

“You were amazing. I love you.”

He could hear the smile in your voice when you replied, “So were you, bǎobèi.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here…”

“I missed you something fierce,” you said by way of explanation.

“Me too. I miss you every day. Every hour.”

To his confusion, you smiled warmly at his pout, one hand caressing along the side of his face until it came to rest on his collarbone. You leaned in, lips ghosting against his in a silent promise, “Then let’s make the most of right now.”

Jun grinned, bending down to pick you up, laughing at the surprised yelp you let out.

“What on earth are you doing, Wen Junhui!”

“I think it’s time for a bath.”

“That is not what I was trying to insinuate!”

He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling his heart sore at your scandalised expression. Resting his forehead against yours, his eyes searched for yours, holding their stare for a few moments. With a smile on his lips and in his voice he murmured, “I don’t care what exactly we do in the bath, as long as we do it together.”

[inthemaelstrom]

So we're about six weeks out from another "most important election of my lifetime" and it's predictably making me literally sick to my stomach. When Trumpacabra got elected in 2016, I threw myself into politics in a way I never had in my lifetime and it almost wrecked me. I was one of those people who never voted for religious reasons (long, separate story) and I felt I had to make up for lost time. By the time 2020 rolled around, I was an unhealthy mess. I had stopped reading. Everything. When I wasn't watching MSNBC and political commentators obsessively, I started consuming absolute junk TV: home improvement shows, crack paranormal ghost hunter crap, etc. Things with no plot, no emotional investment, no danger. No fear.

Right before the 2020 election, old fanfic friends from my days in the Master and Apprentice Star Wars listserv found me and saved me.

They dragged me back into fandom, introduced me to Discord, and got me writing again. I updated a story I hadn't touched in 5 years. I made new friends online and in RL. I got some great fiction and fic recs from those friends and discovered a subgenre called Hopepunk—low stakes fiction with very little if any violence and fear and with happy endings. (Becky Chambers writes a lot of what I read, and Amy Crook has also become a favorite.)

One morning, I had one of those really vivid, realistic, linear plot dreams that literally dragged me out of bed to the keyboard. It was a meet-cute modern au of The Phantom Menace's characters, set in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I cranked out about 2000 words the first day. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. And so on every damn day for the next four years until I had four novels, about 668k words, several timestamps written by three other collaborators who've come on board, some beautiful art I've been allowed to use, and now a fifth book in the works.

This is the Yooperverse.

It's not just The Fic That Saved Me, it's the place where I'm writing a vision of what the world could be like into being. A place where people with fucking obscene amounts of money don't spend it on themselves, or hoard it, or exploit other people to get more, but use it to help other people. It's a place where people who are bigoted dicks either get their comeuppance and crawl back under their rocks, or learn better and do better. It's a place where abused kids get rescued, everybody gets therapy and healthcare and is paid a living wage, people learn to value themselves and each other, and protect each other and defend each other. It's kinky and queer (although I'm neither) and above all, if not entirely safe to be both, I'm trying to write both things as just being another setting on the dryer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's not a utopia, by any means, because there are still assholes and the government is still ... the government, and capitalism is still a thing. There's some danger, especially in the first book, and there are accidents and illnesses and the vagaries of life. In the middle of the series, I had spinal surgery and was out of commission for a few months and that made me start thinking more about my main character dealing with aging and the limitations thereof. There's a LOT of mental health issues and the working through thereof, and a lot of ongoing process. Nobody's perfect. The world outside is still pretty much what it is. But in the little corners where my characters dwell, life is pretty dang good, sometimes great.

It's a vision of a life we all deserve. It's the thing I loved about Star Trek's universe, where people's basic needs are cared for and the obstacles to them developing their best selves removed. It's what I've loved about science fiction in general, especially Ursula LeGuin's: that opportunity to explore possibilities that are better than the present. It's modeled on the MacArthur Genius grants, but you don't have to prove your worthiness first. My main character invests in people's potential, young or old, with scholarships and grants and a steadying hand. His partner builds low or no-cost housing for people in need. There's an informal network of queer and straight kid rescuing going on under the noses of unfriendly governments and failed social service safety nets. The main characters build refuges, literal and emotional. They love each other fiercely and respectfully.

Right now, we're living in a country that is almost the antithesis of these ideas, for far too many of us. People are being manipulated by their fears, which are stoked by unscrupulous, lying shitbag politicians whose all too real evil would never make it past the pitch if you were going to try to sell it as a TV show or movie. They're consciously turning us on each other with lies about our common humanity, about the state of our country, about who and what's responsible for many of its faults, sewing suspicion and hate. And though the Yooperverse started as my personal comfort fic, I'm trying in my very small way to counteract what's happening in the world right now.

I've always believed in the power of story to change people's minds and lives, and I've experienced it myself. When I talk about story, I don't just mean fiction, though. I mean the narratives we tell ourselves and others about our own lives as a whole and day by day or moment by moment. I mean the stories we tell about each other when we're together, at the bar, at wakes, at a party. I mean the stories we invest in as fans in whatever kind of media we consume. I mean the stories we spin for ourselves and others to explain what the everloving fuck is wrong with the world.

Stories aren't separate from the world, they are the world. They tell it into being. They give it shape and purpose and meaning and a sense of possibility. Whatever stories we tell ourselves or each other about how things should be or how we should act as human beings (also called our "beliefs" or "morals" or "ethics"), they shape us, and we shape society. We are society, both together and as individuals. One person with a big voice and a story can tip a mass of people into either violence or solidarity.

I have no illusions that the Yooperverse will ever have that kind of power. It has a tiny audience on AO3 and Discord and it's mostly written for me to explore the things I feel deeply about, and wish I could do, and to teach myself to be a better person and live up to my own ideals. It's a world I'd like to manifest, to call into being, even in a small way. Even if it's just a story.

[jazeswhbhaven]

An Unsightly Guy | React | Spoilers

GIVE IT UP FOR DAY SIX

So for today's dose of Sitri and Amy shenanigan's I have like two huge things to talk about here and I'm wondering what it means and if it will ever get addressed which I don't think it will given how this always seems to happen....

But let's get to it...

So Sitri has healed for the most part and was told some pretty bad news. I'd like to know who this subordinate is, I'm sure it's some NPC though that we probably won't ever interact with but I'm nosey lol

Ooooo Selaphiel mention, I know he be causin' problems because he looks like he would...if anyone needs a reminder of who that is btw

Selaphiel for your viewing pleasure. Though I'm sure we won't get to see him in this event, it sounds like he did his thing and left.

Sitri though is really upset by this news, he feels it was his fault that he wasn't strong enough and would have been able to help if he wasn't injured so badly...

Her? Her?

I have a thousand questions.

My first thought is, maybe his subordinate is a lady devil, which I don't think Gehenna nor hell is discriminatory when it comes to those being in the armies against angels.

But let's say it's not the subordinate??? But who is hell is he referring to??

HOLD AWN

He slapped himself to snap himself out of his anger, the subordinate here asks if he's okay and he responds with this??? Saying it's a useless thing for him to be upset about???????

W H O I S S H E SI T R I

Because I know he's not talking about MC/Us as we haven't met yet. He can't really mean Lilith or Solomon...I don't think he's met him yet and Lilith was doing her own thing.

I'd like to think this was either a close friend or a "sister". Clearly this is someone who works with him and is under his command but what happened long ago? WHO HURT YOU SITRI?

Anyways we continue....

So we're trecking or more so fucking running in the forest with Sitri and his company to find his subordinates and at first he didn't hear anything, and suddenly a bunch of heart beats all at once, it appears that his comrades are alive!

And it's confirmed that they are, badly bruised and torn up but they are alive none the less. So it appears that as I suspected, no Selaphiel or grand "GOTCHA" moment from the angels, they did what they did and left.

But...

Ah so that's who saved them! Here comes Amy and his crew to help out. It sounds like that mishap really got to him and he decided to be better and be proactive.

Lol even with his comrades alive and well Sitri is still on that petty energy. Which I mean...since he just healed and all it's probably fresh on his mind every time he's near or even hears Amy's name.

Guy is stuck under some debris though lol and I think it's cute that his was the first heartbeat he heard despite being his number one hater. Like come on you two...be foreal lol

And that was the end of today though...noting substantial. What I love and hate about the day by day event format is that some of the parts are really slow and boring but at the same time well it's something to look forward to each day instead of finishing out the event and being bored for the entire month or two weeks it's open for.

But my big things for today on this part was

-who the frick frack is Sitri referring to when he said "her"

-what happened long ago that made him so out of his mind and depressed??? did it involve whoever it is he's speaking of?

UGH I know they won't go over this because it's not the focus but don't give me breadcrumbs and not expect to want the entire loaf omg

[dont-offend-the-bees]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @justafandomfollower - cheers, m'dears!

Posting a lil sneak peek of my fic for day one of Painland Week! It's gonna undergo some re-writing/editing before the whole thing's ready to post but this is 600 rough words of a uhhhhh 4k-ish fic. No idea if I'm gonna manage fics for every day since I'm having a big pain flare-up right now but I can at least polish up the three drafts I have so far! So here you go, some sweet nonsexual dom/sub therapy for Charles for day one, love languages💛

I'm gonna tag @kieren-fucking-walker, @firstaudrina, @coloursflyaway and @theflirtmeister, plus anyone else who feels like sharing some WIP sneak peeks, consider yourself tagged!

~~

“Charles,” said Edwin again, softer this time. It was important not to go on the offensive; in his current condition, Charles was liable to take any careless word as keenly as a knife in the back. “Please tell me what’s on your mind.” After a moment’s consideration, he added: “I promise I won’t be angry.”

It felt like utter nonsense to say out loud, a patronising placation as one might give to a child. But Charles, in Edwin’s experience, responded well to directness. His panic thrived in the mires of ambiguity. 

Releasing a ragged breath, Charles rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Just… dunno what to do sometimes. When you two go off at each other.” He peered at Edwin with his uncovered eye, and tried for a smirk. It fell decidedly short of the carefree, playful expression it was aiming for. “Dunno what side to pick, do I?”

He voiced it like a joke, but Edwin was listening carefully and he knew an incomplete sentence when he heard it. He stepped closer and, slowly, giving him time to step back, took Charles’ free hand and squeezed the fingers. 

Charles closed his eyes, dragging his hand down his face. “Can’t keep you both happy,” he admitted on a low mumble, like it was a shameful secret. 

Guilt sank sour and heavy in Edwin’s stomach, but he carefully kept it from his face. Any indication that Charles had made him feel bad was liable to make him shut down further. “It should not be your duty to keep the peace,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I will speak to Crystal later, clear the air.”

Charles nodded, but he still stood propped against the desk and hunched unhappily in on himself. Edwin could see his brain turning itself over and over in miserable little spirals — wondering if he should have stepped in earlier, said something else, wondering what he could have done differently to make everything better. To make everyone happy. 

Edwin swallowed tightly, and placed his hand upon Charles’ shoulder. “Charles. Look at me, please.”

He did so, without question or hesitation. Responding as easily to the polite command as if it had come from his own consciousness. 

Edwin, with great care, hooked a finger through the gold chain aroudn Charles' neck, and tugged.

The effect was instantaneous. Charles’ wide, hunted eyes softened, slackened, his lined eyelids drooping. His lips parted around a quiet sigh, smoother than his last ragged exhalation, and his shoulders slumped as if a great weight had been dropped from them.

Charles was an ever-unfolding and expanding area of study; but to Edwin’s expert eye, on occasion, his needs were remarkably simple to interpret.

Meeting his now somewhat unfocused gaze, Edwin leaned in. “Put Crystal out of your mind for now,” he said, quietly commanding. “In fact, put everything out of your mind.”

“She’s upset,” Charles mumbled in protest.

“Yes — and she will continue to be so for a while longer, regardless of what you or I could say.” Edwin smoothed the collar of Charles’ polo. “When the dust has settled I will find her and smooth things over. I promise. For the time being, you’ll do none of us any good with your overthinking.”

Charles snorted. “Overthinking? Me?” he joked.

With another gentle, recriminating tug of the chain, Charles gasped and quieted.

Edwin sighed and leaned close, ‘til his nose grazed across Charles’ cheekbone. “Granted, your tendency to underthink before making dangerous choices borders on the pathological,” he teased. “But I strongly suspect you're thinking a lot of very unkind thoughts about yourself right now, and I'd like for you to stop. Please.”

Breath shuddering, Charles’ hands lifted, fisting in the front of Edwin's shirt. 

“That what you want?” He asked, his voice a small and broken thing. For all his strength of body and character, he felt as vulnerable in Edwin's hands as a baby bird.

“How about I tell you exactly what I want for a while,” Edwin offered, breathing it across the shell of Charles’ ear. “And then all you have to do is listen." He delivered a swift, dry kiss to Charles' cheekbone. "No detective work required."

~~

Full fic coming to a blog near you on August 5th! Go check out the Painland Week blog and also lmk if you wanna collab on anything, assuming I get pain flareups under control I'm hoping to write lots and lots! Already got a little collab lined up for day 2 which I'm soooo excited about 💛

[eggmeralda]

do you ever feel casually suicidal? like you're not depressed or anything you're doing fine but also it feels like a convenient option

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Okay, here we go, niche 5Ds poll time:

How much of Yusei and Z-ONE's conversations during their duel did the entire city actually hear?

The simplest answer is "every single word" but if that's the case, there would have been no reason for Unnamed Announcer to go back and narrate the duel so everyone would keep evacuating instead of watching. If they could hear everything then they would hear Z-ONE and Yusei calling their own plays. On the other hand, there are times where it's clear that everyone can hear them and it's being broadcast. (There's a moment where Z-ONE literally addresses everyone, even, iirc.)

[fridayyy-13th]

i am feeling So Many Things at the moment but mostly i just feel like a disaster

[magentagalaxies]

.

[zemnarihah]

my best friend has been very distant w me lately and i asked today if she wanted to hang out and she said she probably couldn't bc it's her brothers birthday but she would let me know if she could and i have her location and i just looked and she's at her boyfriends house rn....

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 13: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should just start crying whilst being robbed in the abandoned barn ...

~

(----- tw for mild violence (he gets into sort of a fight) until after the next orange text section in parentheses -----)

Not sure what else to even do, The Adventurer simply collapses into a ball on the floor and starts sobbing, screaming, and rolling about. The hooded figure pauses in confusion at first, but.. apparently is not very sympathetic to his plight.

They rush over, grappling with him as he cries, fighting to pry the backpack out of his hands. The Adventurer continues screeching frantically, and during some of his flailing accidentally swings his arm up, elbowing the hooded figure in the face. They let out an exasperated sigh, knocking him against the wall then firmly yanking him up by the hair, securing their arm around his throat to restrain him as they grab for the backpack. He kicks a few times, struggling, clawing at the hooded figure's arms, but just isn't strong enough to free himself.. There's a thwack and a sudden sharpness in the side of his head, the backpack pulling away from his shoulders, cold ground, and then… nothing at all..…

(------------------- mild violence tw over -----------------) ...............

The Adventurer slowly opens his eyes to a quiet foggy morning.. Tiny particles in the dusty barn air gently flutter to and fro, dancing around in the streams of early sunlight trickling through the slight crack of the front doors. With a groan, he rolls over, suddenly feeling every ache in his body. His head, his wrist, his leg injury from crashing the raft.. He spends a while just laying on his back, watching the dust and gazing hopelessly at the moldy boards of the roof, mustering the strength to sit upright… What can he even do next? He's failed.. His first EVER actual quest of his adventuring career, and he can't even keep a stupid egg safe for more than a few days! What type of adventurer is that?? Maybe he should just give up.. Go back home and do nothing with his life, just as he was meant to... He sighs, turning back onto his side and curling into a ball to sulk even more dramatically. The cat trots over to him to interrupt his swirling thoughts, pawing at his face, then directing him towards a small stack of hay in the corner where... there it is! His backpack!! He scrambles over, immediately digging through to check for his belongings.. To his surprise, everything it still in it's place. His food, his money, all of the cool shiny rocks he's collected so far.. And tucked away in the very bottom, the Mysterious Egg box remains, completely undamaged.. somehow with the egg still inside! And... a note? He shakily unfolds a crisp sheet of pale yellow paper dotted with a few scribbly letters: "I took care of her for you. Be more careful next time. Just get where you have to go."

Well...... He supposes that if there's apparently going to be weirdos following him around anyway, maybe he's lucky at least one of them seems nice. Better than trying to ROB him, at least.. Even if it is a bit creepy. He realizes now that his injuries have been bandaged as well, and that when he woke up, he was wrapped in a blanket, and.. where is the hooded figure? What does the stranger mean that they "took care" of her?? He turns to the cat for answers, as if they'd be able to clear up his confusions, but they simply make a "mrrp!" noise and stare blankly in response. Figuring that it's all far too much to think about first thing in the morning (especially with the headache that he has), he just decides to be thankful he at least still has the egg, and thus can continue on his grand adventure!! He will NOT let himself fail again! Sore and limping but full of renewed motivation, he leaps up (at least as best he can) and continues back onto the road. After walking only a few hours, he comes to a clearing at the top of a large hill, overlooking the next stop on his journey (then double checks the map just to make sure it actually IS the next stop). This is a much bigger area than the previous villages he's been to, possibly large enough to even count as a small city. With a wider variation of shops and attractions available to him than usual, he wonders if he should just take a break and relax the rest of the day.

He's too tired to walk much today anyway, soo.. maybe it'd be good for him to spend some time in a safe public space, doing something to help take his mind off of this morning's drama… But, what should he do?

-

-

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[non-un-topo]

Why does instagram keep giving me videos about grandparents like does it want me to fall on the floor sobbing today

[rubys-domain]

i kinda don't want to play genshin tbh. i just want to play minecraft

[aemondtragaryen-archived]

💭

[ghostlyheart]

Happy Valentines Day!! 💝 I hope you spend the day being haunted by someone you love 👻 (or if you're like me, just eating a lot of heart-shaped candy)

Poll:

[rotturn]

.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?

I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.

Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.

My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.

Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"

No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.

Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.

There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?

That's not our responsibility, they said.

But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.

My niece gives me Covid.

This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.

The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.

Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.

It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.