#it's also so out of character hiccup would never go out of his way to kill someone before they even do anything

[countlessofvoids]

Annoying thing RTTE did to the fandom was having the "Hiccup looks very skinny but he's actually really strong" joke and with that making people think Hiccup could do the impossible. No, Hiccup could never kill Drago on his own. It doesn't matter that he knocked out Snotlout one time

[themeraldee]

I think a great awkward sex fic could be homelander making love for the first time.

Not losing his virginity, but having sex with someone he loves

anon you're sooooooo smart!!!! I love this idea so much. After being in such a funk this reignited me and I had to write it now!! It took a different turn at the end but I don't dictate what the characters do!! thank you for this idea and please enjoy 🩷

Imperfectly Perfect

[Masterlist] [AO3]

18+ Only | 2.7k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Awkward sex. Realistic sex. Embarrassing sex noises. Feelings of inadequacy. Homelander being a mild drama queen. Cunnilingus. Unprotected sex.

Looking back at it, it was meant to be perfect.

Homelander eagerly ushered you back to his penthouse after an incredible date out. He pulled out all the stops, renting out the top rated, most expensive restaurant just for you. He spent the entire night charming your pants off with his strangely charismatic and at times awkward self. 

Buzzing with anticipation he couldn’t wait to show you what else he had in store for you. You’ve changed his perception of everything. Ever since you’ve wormed your way into his heart, he’s locked the way out and threw away the key. You’ve made him feel like nobody else ever has and he thought it high time he repay the favor. That’s why tonight had to be perfect. 

He wanted to show you what awaits you in your shared future.

He had some poor Vought employees absolutely drown his penthouse with bouquets of rich red roses, rose petals strewn across most surfaces, candles illuminating every corner, highlighting the glittering gold of the picture frames adorning his walls. Smooth jazz played in the background at a low volume sealing the deal on what ended up feeling like a scene plucked from an elaborate Valentine’s day ad.

“Wow! This is—wow! Homelander, you didn’t have to do all this.” You looked around the space, taking in the change with a shock and awe on your face. This quickly turned into a beautiful bright smile that made Homelander feel like he was on top of the world. He’s obviously doing something right.

“Anything for my girl.” He pulled you in gently, making the dress he’s picked for you twirl prettily. “Come with me,” he pressed a kiss to your soft lips, letting them linger for a little while while he inhaled the scent of your perfume—also his choice—and the roses surrounding you both. At that moment he thought that tonight would be perfect, one for the books.

And now? It didn’t take long for it to already be turning into a disaster.

From his point of view at least.

You’re sitting at the edge of the bed, leaning back on your arms as you watch the show. You asked to watch him take off his suit, promising that you’d give him just as good of a show as he would. 

Prior to this he has taken his elaborate suit off thousands of times anytime he’d go to bed. Now he’s struggling as if both of his hands were left-handed and this was his first suit fitting. He’s so tense, his nerves tighter than a bow string making his hands shake while he unclasps the cape, immediately folding it on the rack out of habit before he continues unzipping his suit. His heart is beating like a drum in his ears, he wouldn’t be surprised if even your ordinary ones could pick up on it. 

It’s not that he’s never had sex. It’s just that the anticipation of what he’s built up in his head is making him overthink his every move. He needs you to know that he can be like this for you. Because the perfect mainstream image of romance is what every woman dreams of—right?

When the zipper gets stuck and doesn’t let him unzip like normal he panics internally. There were meant to be no hiccups today! 

Observant that you are, you stand up as soon as you see him struggle and swear and take the step closer to him. “Let me help you.” You put your hands on his before sliding them up his forearms, then shoulders before going down to rest on his chest.

“How about you let me undress you and then you undress me.” You give him a cheeky smile, trying to break the tension he put himself into. “Does that sound good?” You ask quietly and breathy as you undo the zipper he was struggling with. 

He nods curtly, feeling ashamed that he’s admitting to a fault on his part.

But with the continuous dreamy eye-contact you slowly help him out. Undoing clasps, and zippers of his convoluted uniform. 

He was less worried about you seeing him naked than he is about the whole performance of it all. He’s let you see him without the suit before. Early into your blooming relationship you’ve stumbled upon him covered in blood. It only made sense to take the shower together as you helped him wash all of it off. But even then, he didn’t want it to go further. He said he had plans and asked you to let him make it perfect. 

When he’s finally fully naked he pulls you in for a hot kiss. It’s almost in gratitude at helping him mend the situation and put it back on track. He walks you back to the bed pushing you on it. He’s only about half hard, which is unusual for him as Homelander easily gets a hard-on in a split second anytime you just look at him a certain way. So it’s a surprise that he’s not panting and leaking with the way you look tonight. 

Clearly, he’s still stuck in his head.

With each kiss he presses into your skin, tasting the softness of your every spot he gets more and more excited. Slowly melting into you with each little huff you let out as he kisses your body, undressing you in tandem. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He growls into your ear before kissing you flush on the lips. Hot and heavy, he licks into your mouth, moaning at the way you pull at his hair when you rake your fingers through it.

Just as you want to take some control back, treat him the same way he’s treating you, he stops you.

“Nuh, uh. Ladies first. Let me make you feel good.” He rumbles as he pushes your hands off his body. You look pleased at his words, giving him an excited little grin.

And just like that, he’s finally taking control of the situation again. He’s got a script in his head and he needs to follow it to a tee.

Down on his knees, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. Already spreading your legs open, unabashedly inhaling the scent of you, already aroused and wet for him. He grins like a shark to himself. Without giving you much heads-up or taking it slow he just straight up buries himself in between your legs.

Just the smell of you had his cock finally turning rock hard, now with the taste of you he feels it twitching, drooling precum from the tip.

He’s licking you open, spreading you with his tongue. Like a mad man who doesn’t know where to focus first, with little rhythm he changes between strongly sucking at your clit, pointing his tongue sharply and running circles around your clit right before shoving his tongue into you, tongue-fucking you just like he imagines will leave your mind blown.

Except. 

“Little softer, please.” You sound out in between sweet little sighs. You’ve taken to running your nails through his hair, giving his scalp a little massage while he went to town on you.

“M’sorry.” He mumbles into your pussy as he quickly looks up at you. He slows down with his urgency though he’s a little peeved at the way he’s not been able to rock your world yet. 

“Don’t be—ah—it’s great. I just like it a little softer.” 

It’s great? Great?! It should be mind-blowing, incredible, glorious! Not just great. Immediately his ego takes a hit but he doesn’t outwardly show it. In his mind you should’ve been moaning and shaking for him, coming on his tongue while he got his fill of you. 

This doesn’t happen.

And while he’s doing better, making you moan a little louder, forcing small gasps out of you as he softens his tongue flat, gently laving over your clit before sucking on it softly. He’s not making you cum and that’s killing him.

You suddenly sharply tug on his hair and at first he thinks you’re getting close but you pull again and he looks up at you confused.

“Come up here.” You guide him up.

“But you didn’t finish.” He scrunches his eyebrows confused and for a second he looks like an innocent sweet puppy. 

“I don’t wanna come yet. I’m actually usually done after one orgasm so I reaaally want to have you inside me for the big finish you know?” You sign that off with a wolfish grin that he immediately eats up as he climbs up to devour you, making you taste yourself on his lips. 

With the thoughts of being inside you where it’s all soft and warm and really just made for his cock, he abandons his thoughts of inadequacy. 

And as much as you want to participate, Homelander keeps pushing you off, instead focusing on your body and all the places he hasn’t managed to kiss yet. 

When he swats your hand away from his cock again you ask. “Why won’t you let me return the favor?” 

“Another time.”

“But I wanna blow you! It’s not fair, why can’t I?” You keep pouting and you’re as adorable as you are annoying because as much as he’s sure your mouth will feel amazing he’s even more certain that your pussy will be fucking incredible. And he definitely won’t make it through both.

“Because I’ll bust, alright?” He swats your hands away instead pinning your wrists down onto the plush bedding making you yelp in surprise and arousal. He can sense the way that got you all excited. “Now just let me fuck you… please?” He says before kissing you again.

You automatically spread your legs. He kneels on the bed, sitting on his heels as his eyes immediately lock onto the sight of your pussy, still pretty and wet for him. A sight that makes his heart swell. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t want him with such voracity. He made sure to keep some lube on hand in case you wouldn’t get wet enough for it to be comfortable for you but he was preening that he managed to get you this wet. 

Homelander let one of his fingers glide down your slit, gathering the slick before pushing a finger in, immediately groaning at the intense heat of your cunt. He couldn’t wait to get his cock in you.

He gathers more slick that you seem to be making an abundance of but this time he gives his cock a few strokes, giving it a nice, wet coating. “So perfect for me.” He whispers out more to himself than you before he shuffles closer, holding his cock in his hand, rubbing it up and down your slit before eagerly pushing in.

The sheer tight heat of you has him gasping, you’d almost think he was in pain if it wasn’t for the blissed out look on his face.

When he sinks all the way in, he takes in your pretty face, your softly parted lips, gently flushed face and a look in your eyes that he’s sure he’ll never forget. You look at him with such love and adoration it’s impossible for him to stop the, “I love you,” that comes out of him before he kisses you.

“I love you too.” You say with a bright smile when he lets you breathe.

 He thinks at this moment, there’s no way this could be anything less than perfect.

Getting lost in the sensation he picks up the pace. He fucks into your faster and harder with each stroke and it’s not bad but it’s too too much from the get go. Homelander doesn’t see this. In his head he wants to make you cum before he himself finishes which with his track record might not be a very long time.

“Hey hey hey, slow down. You don’t need to go all hard and fast so quickly okay?” You say with a breathless little laugh, looking a bit rattled from the way he’s been fucking you into the mattress.

Fuck. He fucked up again. He’s disappointing you. That thought makes his heart hurt and jaw clench. But Homelander doesn’t let it show as he just nods at you, kissing his tension away, trying to get his head back into enjoying himself as much as he should.

But the universe isn’t kind to him and when he eases himself back into you, pressing his body against your sweat-covered one, the glide of skin on skin well… It makes a sound that could only be described as a fart!

You burst into giggles at the comical sound and you seem to think that’s it but Homelander is mortified. His eyes widen and he gasps, pushing himself off your sweat-slick skin. “That wasn’t—I didn’t—”

When he tries to explain that it wasn’t him it just makes you laugh harder.

He doesn’t get it—you’re laughing! It’s so incredibly embarrassing and it’s ruining the vision he had for the night. Tonight was about him finally opening up to you, letting you feel just how strongly he feels about you and it’s been a disaster from the start.

He feels himself softening inside you so he pulls out before you notice and he grumpily pulls away from you, turning to sit at the edge of the bed to sulk.

Your giggles died out as soon as you noticed him pull away. “Baby? Don’t be upset. I’m not laughing at you.” You sit up, reaching over to him, moving closer. 

“It’s fucking embarrassing! Tonight was meant to be—well not like this!” He’s upset and he’s trying to take it out on you as if pretending that it’s your fault is gonna soothe his hurt ego.

“It’s okay. It’s normal, it happens. It’s literally just skin on skin. Bodies make funny sounds!” You try to soothe him by rubbing his arms and shoulder, occasionally pressing a kiss to his head or side of his neck.

“You shouldn’t be laughing at it like this whole thing doesn’t matter.” He said with a bite in his tone, almost accusing you of not sharing his feelings.

“I’m laughing because this does matter to me. I’m comfortable around you. You make me feel at ease and let my guard down. I’m laughing precisely because I love you.”

He doesn’t respond and you continue soothing his hurt feelings.

“It’s beautiful, the way you’ve prepared this place. But do you wanna hear a secret?” You move closer to him and turn his head with your finger. “It’d be just as romantic without all of it. Even if the first time we had sex was in a broom closet. Or whatever. The point is—it’s you. That makes it all so special.”

He sighs with palpable relief and he nuzzles his head into the hand you placed on his cheek. He could just about devour you for being so amazing. 

“I just wanted it to be perfect for you.” He admits his insecurity, giving you the ammunition to rip his heart in two if you wanted to. He knows you hear the ‘I want to be perfect for you,’ he’s really trying to convey. 

“It is perfect. Tonight, the whole thing. Everything that’s happened. It’s been perfect. I’ve been loving every second of it.” You kiss him on the lips and he melts. He turns so he can embrace you with the kiss, feeling the tension finally slip away. With no expectations, he can enjoy you the way he should have from the start.

“Come on, lie down. Stop thinking.” It’s your turn to press him into the mattress as he lies on his back staring up at you with pure adoration.

Just like that, after seeing you on top of him all pretty and loving his cock is back at full hardness. You finally wrap your hand around it, giving it a few strokes before you lower yourself down on him.

“We’re getting to know our bodies. You learn what I like, I learn what you like. None of this thinking of what it should be like. Okay?” He nods at you although he’s very preoccupied with taking in the incredible feeling of you wrapped hotly around him, sending his mind into a frenzy.

You bounce on him, showing him exactly how you like it, what angle and what pace and in the meanwhile you coo sweet, soothing words. Clearly seeing just how much work his hurt ego will need to get back to normal. 

And somehow, in the end, it’s so much more perfect than he could ever imagine it to be.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @infinetlyforgotten 

[ughdontbeboring]

only you.

Thor x Black/WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach. 

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago. 

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard. 

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight. 

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?” 

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock. 

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room. 

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember. 

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs. 

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan. 

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock. 

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand. 

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy. 

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his. 

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again. 

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him. 

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully. 

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again. 

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade” 

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly. 

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt. 

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room. 

[binhourly]

Coming To Terms (+18)

Summary: What could go wrong when your love life involves bad sex, good imagination, and a best friend who seems like the answer to all your unspoken desires?

Word count: 11k

Tags: College Setting / Rom-Com / Slice of Life / Friends to Undecided

Pairing: Baseball Player!Kim Seungmin x Fem!reader

Trigger Warning:  Emotional Distress / Harassment / Stalking / Physical Intimidation (Seungmin is captain of the baseball team, his bat is practically his weapon) / Explicit Content / Men Being Pathetic / Aggressive & Threatening Behaviour / Vanilla Intercourse In The Beginning & Middle / Protective Sex / Crude Language / Character Re-imagined / Underwear Play / Verbal Aggression

Songs: i. Look At That Woman by ROLE MODEL ii. Love Is Embarrassing by Olivia Rodrigo

ALSO READ HERE

NOTE: Shoutout to the jerk who inspired one part of this scene—who wouldn’t leave me alone after he rejected me, got angry because I was unaffected by it, and alluded that if I cared about him enough, I would be heartbroken. Then he proceeded to trap me inside the girls’ bathroom. Hope campus security tasers you next time, you fucking weirdo. / excuse the ending. I was sadly a victim of school work overload and anything I wrote fell flat and I can't be bothered trying to re-work it the 100th time. so, yes it doesn't make a whole lot of sense and seems really rushed . . . live laugh love seungmin.

NO ONE was completely perfect—hell, if there was one thing you were sure about, it was that your own crappy life meant you also counted toward that same damn list too.

It wasn't about being uncritical, either. You had a lot to be angry at, starting with your new project partner, Felix, who insists he's clinically diagnosed with a gaming addiction, so it's crucial he takes 'Call of Duty' breaks in between studying.

It just came down to being hopeful, and having a lot of it.

For instance, if someone had waved a bunch of red flags in your direction, you'd notice it, maybe indulge in a small wiggle of your fingers back, because for some stupid reason, you have a bad habit of thinking their flaws, (controlling, inability to take accountability, lack of empathy) would magically iron themselves out over time. Or, your personal favourite—they'd burn the cloth enough it changes the alarming colour.

Spoiler alert: they never do. And now you're stuck with your mistake literally punching you in the gut—but more literal than metaphorical.

“Making you feel so good,” your boyfriend slurs into your shoulder, his awkward thrusting between your legs making the sentence appear as if he's hiccuping. “Changing—argh—your life.”

Dongmin was that small wish you sigh out at the end of a grace, something you know you're not supposed to say but get overwhelmed with the selfish need to want more. When he showed up, it was almost like the universe had heard you and decided, without any strings attached, “You know what? Sure, here's your dream guy.”

And god, was he absolutely perfect—and clearly your karmic invoice.

The first few weeks, he practically won your heart over by carefully remembering tiny details about your interests and insisted on carrying you on his back to ease the digging pain in your shin after your first date. (Looking back now, you can admittedly say you brought down your impenetrable wall too quickly, because the only way he changed the trajectory of your life was finding out he had the bedroom finesse of a teenage boy who giggled at genital diagrams in health class.)

Then the lights flick off, and he transforms into something clumsy but not inexperienced... just one-sided.

You've tried everything to loosen him up—lingerie, role-play, and toys—but at this point, sex to Dongmin was sticking it in, swirling it around a few times trying to chase his own high, and you're stuck watching a firework fizzle out just as the show's supposed to start. You know, a little “oh” that quickly becomes a “wait, that's it?”

He lifts himself up off you, a sheen of sweat clearly building down his chest after what has been barely two minutes. It gives you a better view of Dongmin, though, and you think to yourself you could work with this. Watching him rest his hands firmly on your raised knees and press them further apart to spear deeply into you would definitely build up that sweet pressure.

And sure enough, whines sob out of you so desperately, like a starved woman thankful for a grain of salt. “Baby, f—feels so good.” Your face flops to the side, mouth agape and drying the drool that slides down your chin. "Right there—ah uh!—keep it like that," you instruct him, hoping for what could possibly be your first orgasm.

This was it, his redemption arc; all it needed now was a friendly push. So, your fingers tickle past your bouncing breasts, landing at the base of your clit where you planned to rub circles while he fucked you into the mattress.

“Don't do that,” Dongmin objects through a grunt, swatting your hands away despite your quiet gasp of disappointment, entrapping them both above your head. He leans forward, stopping his thrusts. “I can make you cum with just my cock.”

Sadly, that hasn't happened yet, and it was hard to be hopeful when you knew exactly how it was going to end. He resumes, and just like you expected, Dongmin repositions himself, and the tight lull around your pelvis disappears, literally fucking retreats back into a little cobwebbed corner.

With him snuggled back into your shoulders, it allows you to catch sight of the ceiling, dissociating into several different thoughts. One that whispered loud asked if this was your punishment. Six months he made you wait. Six months of feeling like a princess before he finally gave in, and by then, you were so locked in emotionally that there was no way out. You liked him—loved him, even.

Damn.

“So close! Gonna... uh ah—cum." Dongmin grips your hips hard enough it leaves an unwanted ache, and before you could mouth out profanities for getting carried away, a hot feeling stews inside you along with a huff of air that sounds like he's struggling to breathe.

He came, how shocking.

He doesn't collapse next to you, just opts to awkwardly move over at the edge of the bed before treading to the rubbish bin in the corner, ripping the condom off his softening penis. It leaves you naked, swaddled in sheets, just quietly taking in that his day had now just become more bearable, while you'll spend the next week coming up with excuses to keep him away from any spacious surface to fuck against.

Dongmin climbs back by your side, his presence now not so pressuring. “You were so good, baby.” He trails his hands up your arm, making a shiver slither down your bare spine. “How was it? Was it any good?”he adds, his voice soft and hopeful.

For a brief moment, you consider telling him the truth—that he could touch up on a few areas to get better in bed. But even thinking about it made you shrink, like you were holding a fuse you lit yourself, waiting for the wick to burn the last inch before selfishly handing it over to Dongmin.

But, like always, at the last second when your people pleasing tendencies kick in, you throw all your weight to soften the explosion.

“It was perfect,” you whisper, the lie slipping out smoothly. His hands squeeze your thigh in response, a splitting grin spreading across his face.

“Really?” His eyes light up, pressing kisses into your cheek.

If life has taught you anything, it's that perfection is a myth. You knew that before Dongmin, and you sure as hell know it now. Sure, Dongmin was bad in bed, but who’s to say there wasn’t something about you that bothered him just as much? Maybe he loved you enough to let it slide. Maybe you were willing to do the same. And maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t about love at all, but about not knowing if you’d ever find something better.

“Yeah! You were amazing,” you lie again, and this time, it comes a little easier.

Spoiler alert, your mind whispers.

SEUNGMIN misses the next pitch, the ball ricocheting off the chain-link fence surrounding the batting cage with a hollow clang. "Wait—hold on." He turns toward you sitting cross-legged outside, eyes narrowing in focus at something other than his baseball training. "I'm sorry, did I just hear you complain about your boyfriend's... swing?"

You couldn't even remember when you let that secret slip.

One second, you were watching Seungmin wind up his bat over his shoulder for another hit, the end-of-the-day heat tinting his white ace uniform a baked yellow, and the next, words were tumbling out like you were in some kind of truth-telling trance. Shit.

Trying to act as nonchalant as possible, you shrug your shoulders. "I'm being serious."

Seungmin rests the length of his bat across his shoulders, arms slung causally over each end, trying his best to look moderately stern—or at least like he's mulling it over and coming up with helpful solutions. "What makes you think I'm not?" he says, raising his eyebrows in mock confusion.

But you weren't fooled for a second. You'd known the athlete for a total of three years, which gave you enough time to spot the signs—the barely-there twitch at the corner of his mouth, the bite down on his bottom lip.

"Relax..." Seungmin drags out his words, adding to his infamous bratty attitude with a classic eye roll that basically says you really should know better. "I'm not that evil to make fun of you for something that's—y'know... beyond your control. If I'm going to shit on someone, it'd be him for underperforming."

"But I don't think I want you throwing jabs at him," you start by saying, holding off from speaking further until Seungmin repositions himself away from you on the plate, giving you the perfect sight of his messy brown tuffs sticking out from under his cap rather than his judgy eyes, as he takes another practice swing. "It's wrong when he's been nothing but sweet to me."

Then came the ball shooting out the machine, a sharp clang, and instead of his usual clean hit, the ball bounces off his bat at a crooked angle, spiralling down into what could've been foul territory if this was a real game.

Seungmin spins back towards you, a clear sign of disbelief in his eyes at his second out ball. "See? This is what happens when you say stupid shit," he mutters, adjusting his cap backwards to give you the full extent of his annoyance. "It's like you're sucking all my talent away, one word at a time." He raises his bat, taking a few loose swings in the air as if to shake off your bad luck.

“Am I not allowed to defend my boyfriend?" you reply, an ache of defensiveness prickling your chest.

Seungmin lets out a low laugh, the kind that’s meant to sweetly correct your faults without fully crossing the line into being a downright douche—and maybe the way his teeth peek halfway underneath his pink lips could make you forget it was supposed to hurt. Or that it only came after you announced Dongmin was, in fact, your boyfriend.

“You can," he says, his tone a sharp lash despite its simplicity. Now that you think of it, Seungmin does seem more affected by your troubles than you expected. "But maybe save it for when he's worth defending. Like, when you can move past telling people he makes you happy just because he makes you laugh."

What the hell did Seungmin know about relationships? If this were any other Friday night—where the summer heat feels thicker from the countless bodies pressed up against each other and the cold beer does nothing but flush everyone's faces, the only contribution to a committed relationship Seungmin could get behind was being with a girl long enough until the song blaring out from the speaker ended. And then? Onto the next, all blurring together, sifting through the entire alphabet as the night dragged on.

Was she a Bora? Maybe a Susan? Not that it mattered. It always played out the same—Seungmin weaving through the crowd, a little disheveled, a little fucked-out, his familiar scent of citrus clinging to his skin like an afterthought. And then your heart tucks, knots, flips, only for you to turn around and realise—no, he’s not looking at you. Just another random girl brushing past drowning in his cologne.

So yeah, maybe Seungmin had a point. But what weight did his opinion really hold when it’s coming from someone who valued blowjobs over real, tangible connections. 

You press your hands behind you, leaning back slightly with a pouty lip, confused about what you were really frustrated about. "Not everything has to meet your weird, unrealistic expectations with your perfect checklist."

Seungmin scoffs, “No, but it’s the one thing you’re spiralling over right now.”

You sit up abruptly, mouth open, ready to argue—because obviously, he’s wrong—but nothing comes out. Because, unfortunately, he isn’t.

Seungmin smirks, like he was waiting for you to get caught in your own logic. “Oh? No defence? That’s new.”

You scowl, picking your legs up before hugging your knees to your chest. “I just—” You huff, looking away. “You don’t know everything, okay?”

“I don’t need to know everything. I know you.” He points the bat at you like it’s an extendable pointer in some lecture you definitely didn’t sign up for. “And I never said anything about being perfect. But he’s not exactly giving you something that sticks. Y’know, the stuff you can’t let go of.”

Your brows pinch together. “That makes no sense. People let go of bad things all the time.”

Seungmin snorts. “Right. But people still go back to their exes just to fight, or hate-fuck each other into oblivion. Not because it’s good for them—because it’s unforgettable. It gets under your skin and stays there.”

You blink, caught off guard by the weight of his words. He steps back onto the plate, kicking his cleats into the ground, clearing out the backed-up dirt trapped inside the rubber.

“Dongmin has it all backwards,” he continues, more thoughtful now. “He gave you perfect first. No mess, no complications.’” He tilts his head. “And you think that’s a good thing?”

Your lips press together. “It is a good thing,” you insist, but even you hear how defensive it sounds.

Seungmin scoffs, unamused. “No, it’s suffocating.” He flicks his gaze back to you. “Or in your case, it’s got you sitting here, trying to convince yourself you’re the problem. Like you should be grateful to be with him.”

Your stomach twists—because, again, damn it, he’s not wrong.

"You sound pretty sure about that," you say, almost smiling but finding yourself hesitating. "Where's the perfectly formatted, alphabetical citation to all these theories, huh?"

Without missing a beat, Seungmin turns to you, his eyes—typically the blackest jade—now transforming into the softest chestnut under the sun, properly toasted to taste so sweet and earthy. "I am the citation. A living, breathing, walking HTTPS link."

You don't disagree; it's not like you can with his never-ending scroll of experiences. Of course, he knew more than you—the baseball player practically had every single girl on campus twirling their hair, waiting for the chance he might pick them again (the same crowd you were once among, quietly shoved in a corner—before you met Dongmin)

While Seungmin prepares for the next hit, you take a minute to fully come to terms with what's been said. Dongmin did give you everything, and you were more than grateful for that, but did he do anything that really snagged at your mind constantly? Sure, he occasionally bought you things or always let you eat the last bit of every delicious sweet because he was kind, thoughtful, and never gave you a reason to doubt him—but that was just it.

Sometimes, there'd be moments where you'd get so caught up in studying you'd forget to call or text him for days at a time, and it didn't bother you. When a girl was clearly flirting with him at the library—right there, barely a shoulder away from you—it didn't make you feel a thing—not jealousy, not irritation, not even the faintest twinge that the world could shift off its axis if he did ratify her advances.

All you could explain is the way the morsel memories managed to only piece together when you remember Seungmin happened to be there at that time, slithering right down into the seat beside her in his beige trousers and white dress shirt (his knight in shining armour away from his usual baseball uniform), hair clipped short and skimming the top of his forehead, stealing her attention away from Dongmin. And it worked, aggravatingly enough.

The girl completely forgot about your boyfriend. And you... well, you couldn't remember much else because you were too prickly from anger to realise the crack of a notebook slamming shut, echoing throughout the library, was from your own. Heads all turned. Yours stayed on the way her fingers had drummed on the empty space of his forearm where he rolled up a fourth of his sleeve, needing nothing but to leave before you flat out collapsed.

Later that night, Dongmin kissed your lips swollen, breathlessly mouthing how much he loved seeing you jealous over him. And if he believed it, you let yourself believe it too, because of course that's why you were so sensitive.

You move closer to the fence, letting your fingers curl around the wires. "Okay, what's your controversial hot take on this? What would you want me to do?"

Quickly, Seungmin replies—"You dump him. Obviously."

You reel back. "Have you not been listening to me this past hour?"

"I have. That's me taking everything in as your very supportive friend and giving you the most logical advice," he says with a deadpan expression.

Crossing your arms, you stare at the side of him, letting it trail down to his uniform tucked into his white trousers. "I don't like that one."

Seungmin adjusts his grip on the bat, keeping his eyes trained on the ball machine, waiting for the next surprise. "Okay... because you're basically teetering on the edge of sexual insanity, you can have my next thought free of charge."

You arch an eyebrow, hating the way he pauses for dramatic effect.

Seungmin bends his knees further apart, his voice dropping just enough you can feel it pulsating in-between your legs.

"Next time, think of me during sex."

You choke on absolutely nothing.

What the actual fuck? You weren't too sure you heard him correctly, and it explained through the way you racked your eyes to the side inconspicuously to see if anyone else had overheard and displayed an equally horrified look to his statement, just a smidge of utter disbelief. But you were the only one short-winded, a little hypnotised.

"That's... That's really gross—and seriously, just—weird, and wrong... you can't be—"

If he wasn't so focused, Seungmin would've done his infamous shrugs, completely unbothered as usual. "Just saying, I've got a 99% success rate of giving people what they want."

You barely have room to retaliate before the machine fires, the sound of his bat whooshing into your ear and a crack echoing across the field instantly playing out. Unlike the last two, the ball soars higher—farther—and as you follow the little white comet in the air, it hits the end trails of the field which felt weirdly coincidental to Seungmin's statement, because if this was like any other game where the fence wasn't placed around the playing ground, with an arena filled with students, the ball would have been called out as a—

“Home run,” someone mutters from another section, greatly impressed at his swing.

THE NEXT time you have sex with Dongmin is right after your last class on a late afternoon.

It wasn't spontaneous nor romantic, but you figure that being with someone for as long as you have it's already given proof that he loves you, which cancels out the need for heart-shaped petals on the bed and replaces grand gestures with stale, pre-planned texts.

Dongmin: Need you right now, baby

Dongmin: Think you can make it in 10?

Your eyes flick quickly between the two messages, your nose scrunching the lines of your face, which suggested your clear irritation at his wish. But as natural as it came, so did that same nauseating feeling that you were being too judgmental—a little too mean when he hadn't done anything even mildly wrong for you to turn him down.

You: If I run I could probably get there in 6

You: But I won't do it without a little please ;)

Shoving your phone into your back pocket without checking his response, you start walking to the student dormitories, appreciating that, even though the bigger problem is only minutes ahead, it still leads you under the campus's brick arch into the sprawling oval field where students lounge on the grass during their breaks. It gives you a moment of false peace—that maybe, just maybe, you're like everyone else, heading out to do anything but have mediocre sex.

When you slip inside his room, it only takes a quick peck on the lips to kick-start his libido. You'd barely leaned back before he nudged closer, his hands racing to your face before smothering you in a deeper, hungrier kiss.

It completely took you by surprise how feverish he was being. It was impossible to think straight when his tongue was basically poking every corner of your mouth, while his hands were sneaking under your shirt, ignoring the sweat build-up on your back from your little walk.

Dongmin had just sat through a three-hour lecture about marketing strategies—did product placements make him this horny?

You giggle into his mouth at the ridiculous thought, and it's like someone shoved a drain stopper into Dongmin's rushing sink of hormones.

He pulls back, frowning slightly, eyes wandering in a way that showed he was clearly offended that you weren't taking his sexually aroused state seriously enough. "What's funny?"

Your face heats. "Nothing! I'm just—" you hesitate, bringing his face closer, peppering the trace of his lips with quick kisses to coax him out of thinking too deeply. "I'm just being silly."

It works in your favour because Dongmin gets caught up in the web of your so-called addicting taste, his arousal taking over without a second thought. His hips fall into this automatic rhythm, rutting into the open space between your legs like it's instinctive—like he doesn't even realise he's doing it.

You sigh into his mouth, deciding to enjoy the little bits and pieces of pleasure you can grab before things inevitably go south. If you were going to make this work, foreplay would have to be your life line. Because the biggest misconception about sex is that it's rarely as groundbreaking as foreplay. What most girls really want is the build-up. The kissing, the grinding, the maddening tease of never quite getting there.

It's the burn without the release.

"But I want to know," he insists with an incredulous look, head angling away, leaving a huff of an aggravated moan in the air from you.

You bite your lip, stalling, before blurting, "I'm just trying to figure out what got you so..." Your words trail off as your hands flap in the useless space between the two of you, miming something you can't quite put into words. "Like... this."

Dongmin lets go of you, the feeling from earlier while briskly walking around campus—free—climbing back into your chest. Without a word, he moves to the bed, slumping down with his legs parted just enough to make the tent in his pants... obvious, arms bracing behind him on the mattress.

"It's Seungmin," he says finally, voice low and dejected, like the mental image of the baseball player pained him.

You blink. Seungmin? Your Seungmin?

The statement hits you like a curveball to the face, the hard-stitched leather completely derailing whatever thoughts were left swirling around in your pretty but concerned brain. The confession was so unprompted that it left the words tumbling out of your mouth without proper discretion.

"Seungmin made you hot and bothered?"

"What? No!" he blurts, eyes widening in complete horror. "That's not—how did you even come to that conclusion?"

"I don't know!" you rush in, pointing an accusatory finger towards Dongmin. "We were just swapping spit, and I asked you a question—I mean, you can't really get the wrong idea when you build it up like that."

You hadn't intended to be funny, but the response made the hard marks in Dongmin's features soften enough before he lets out an involuntary exhale that borders on an amused laugh.

Still, something lingered. The sight of Dongmin, typically so composed, with an endless amount of patience in his tool belt, sitting there so visibly nerved and upset felt... different. The open window that haloed a buttery tint above his head couldn't pin back that same warmth.

You pad across the room, steps deliberately slow, allowing yourself to stop between his parted thighs. This was a new experience. Within the time frame of your relationship—which would be exactly a year, a month from now—you'd never really had to deal with this. And that's not to say you were unwilling to help swat away the eventual clouds raining above his head, it was just that after spending so many perfect days, having something other than that unsettled you, like seeing a flower wilt at its peak in the middle of spring.

And maybe that's why you didn't ask him what was wrong. You weren't sure how. Instead, staring down at him, you nudge your knee into his open ones. Once. Then again. A little harder each time, until his lips twitch slightly, smearing back that familiar smile.

"You're annoying." Dongmin clasps his hands around the back of your knees, murmuring softly, and it's supposed to reach deep—the feeling of his touch—but it barely tingles.

"And you're a little grumpy," you shoot back, nudging him again for good measure, and before you can process it, Dongmin uses the leverage of having his hands at your weak point to his advantage, and in one fluid motion, he lifts you up slightly despite being in a sitting position and pulls you down onto the mattress with him, a familiar weight pressing above you.

This would've been the perfect moment to capture inside a cute mason jar and hold up as a reminder each time you got that nagging poke in your gut that doubted if you had any real connection with your boyfriend. But despite the compromising position, the only thing disrupting your thoughts was how you could bring the conversation back to Seungmin without indirectly implying anything.

"What does Seungmin have that I don't?" you say playfully, intending for his reply to be as predictable as the baseball player not having a set of perky tits—the typical train of thought for boys in their early twenties.

"He has you."

There's a beat of silence. "What?"

To keep the mood moderately light-hearted, Dongmin blows hot air onto your face, the rush gently moving a strand of hair away from your eyes. "I bumped into him earlier today," he answers finally, voice dazed, keeping his stare trained on the roundness of your lips as if they're the most fascinating thing in the room. "It was weird because he usually avoids me, but he wanted to talk to me about something."

You nod your head in a vague attempt to look attentive, but your mind escapes this current reality and transports itself back two days ago at the baseball field, where Seungmin looked aggravated by the combination of the sun and the coach's reliance on his skills, and you happened to carve the first smile into his lips after telling him how Dongmin has failed to make you cum.

It wasn't like Seungmin would've told Dongmin. He was many concerning things, but the most valuable quality he had was the tendency to lock your most humiliating confessions behind an impenetrable vault. But that didn't mean his unprompted hangout with your boyfriend was sheer coincidence. It was a built idea, one that probably came to him in the morning and continued to amuse him for hours before he spoke to Dongmin. You can picture it so clearly—every little comment Seungmin would've made laced with his trademark brand of backhanded politeness, each one just toeing the line between friendly banter and deliberate belittling—enough for him to fully relieve himself of his quiet hatred for your boyfriend.

"There's a fundraiser his team needed help promoting to get sponsors, and apparently I have just the right qualifications for it," Dongmin explains, the request shockingly normal.

"And that should explain this?" You blink up at him, his weight growing more suffocating the longer it's pressed into you.

Dongmin chuckles lightly, his fingers lazily coiling a strand of your hair as he speaks. "Yeah—well... the conversation somehow, kinda drifted... towards you."

There it was. The sudden rush of tingles sweeping through your body, sitting uncomfortably hot on your cheeks at being mentioned when you weren't present, wondering what Seungmin had possibly said. And why you grew more lightheaded at the sound of each syllable in Seungmin's name being spoken in your thoughts. No, it's definitely not from that.

"How come you never told me you spent last Christmas holidays with his family?" Dongmin's voice cuts through. From the way it squeezes past his lips, it tells you more than enough that the question was only a placeholder for something else he was worried about.

You fidget slightly under his gaze, your fingers playing with the silver pendant dangling from his necklace. "Because... I didn't think it was important. We weren't together then, and Seungmin and I were already good friends. It wasn't unusual for us to do things like that with our families."

The furrow of your brow appears at seeing the bare distaste on his face at hearing about your friendship with the baseball player. "Hey... if I could go back in time, I totally would've said no. Like, 'Sorry, I can't come. Why? Well, it's because the gravitational pull of my future boyfriend's aura is too strong and he wouldn't want me there.'"

Dongmin was never possessive. He was more the type to find pleasure in flaunting you rather than keeping you hidden, so hearing the comical inflection around the scenario made him feel sheepish enough to drop down and smush his face into your neck.

"That's not what I meant," he mumbles, his lips brushing against your skin. It takes a moment for him to string together what really made him upset—or rather horny. "Just with the way he talks about you... it's different. Like he's known you forever, and will forever know you better than I do." Dongmin huffs, the pout in his voice strong. "I can't compete with that. All the stuff we do now—getting coffee together, staying up late to help you study—it doesn't feel like it's enough in comparison. I know it sounds stupid, but I'm supposed to be your boyfriend, but wherever Seungmin is, I'm... falling short somehow."

That's why he was bothered. The stories made Dongmin jealous, which led him to do the only thing that could reassure him that Seungmin couldn't follow—sex.

"Why would you think that?" you ask, voice gentle but angry. "That's far from the truth, or—or the reality, even." Holding onto his head, you pull Dongmin up enough to look at you. "Have I known Seungmin a lot longer? Sure. But I've never thought of him that way. If anything, me choosing you should already tell you who I wanted."

Dongmin smiles faintly, the soft, content look on his face a dizzying comparison to his sharp canines. He believes you like he always does. But that's the problem, isn't it? With everything you've said behind his back, the lie should be apparent. Because within your boyfriend's insecurities, there's a truth to it—not consciously at least, just in the way there's always been a stupid crack that opens wider every time Seungmin is mentioned, and you've done nothing but ignore the water at your feet.

Yet he stares at you with so much unguarded affection, it twists your stomach into a knot that will never unravel.

"I love you," he says then.

Overwhelmed by the sudden confession, you pull him in, pressing your mouth to his in a kiss so desperate it puts his previous hormones to shame.

It's not like you weren't expecting this—how could you not? You'd spent the last few months rehearsing those same three words in your head, tonguing around each letter to get rid of the uncomfortable taste it came with. And maybe he was ready for that, but you weren't. So, this was the best you could do for now without giving him something flimsy, and like so many other times, you squeeze your eyes tight, trying to find that trapdoor in your mind and disappear down it, to a wonderful place where all the memories of Dongmin should fill in.

Seungmin. Your thoughts whisper.

The next few minutes, there's a hurried struggle to remove all of your clothes, and by the time your underwear rolls up in a ball beside his bed, Dongmin is already inside you, huffing pleasurable moans into your gaped mouth each time he feels you clamp around his cock.

"God! Keep doing that," he urges you.

You had no control over why you kept tensing around him—whether it's your body's intrinsic search for something more. And you don't figure it out until your mind slips again before you can stop it, and, like a metal detector, the thought of Seungmin's name is the sand-crusted jewellery, and you clamp down once more.

No, it's not about Seungmin. You're sure of it. Absolutely, hundred fucking percent.

Dongmin presses closer, his pace less magnifying and more like he couldn't commit to finishing a thrust. "You're so perfect," he whispers into your shoulder, but the words barely ignite anything.

Perfect.

That word was the bane of your existence. All you did your whole life was believe that every relationship dripped down to one single thing—perfection. But maybe Seungmin was right. Perfect didn't leave room to grow. Perfect didn't let you argue over the dumb things, laugh too loudly, or cry over the important ones. Perfect didn't let you mess up and make it better. Perfect was a plain room, and Dongmin had locked you inside it, too afraid to decorate.

Imperfection meant freedom, and you felt it in every harsh word Seungmin ever threw your way, in every argument that left you winded, in every moment you ached for him to pull you back. That heart-wrenching need to keep him close, to hear the rawness in his voice when he asked for your forgiveness.

Seungmin.

You shut your eyes, wrestling back your brain tooth and nail to focus on the moment—on Dongmin rutting into your core with a determination to leave a clear indent of his cock inside you, on his hands on your hips, his soft grunts—

Seungmin.

Again, his name skids into your head like a car caught spinning in the rain. But it's too late to banish the thought, because your mind has already conjured up the image of Seungmin at the batting cage—cap backwards, sleeves rolled up, arms flexing each time he swings his bat, with the lethal combination of his slit eyebrow and that cocky little smirk lingering after every comment.

You whine out loud, your body betraying you as it holds onto the memory of what Seungmin said, but to make it seem like you're putting in the extra effort to not commit mental infidelity, the "Next time, think of me during sex" line sounds a lot like an impression of Dobby the elf.

And, dear God, that doesn't even work,

"Oh—oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!" you gasp out, your voice higher in pitch than you'd like. The familiar feeling of a tight pressure builds low in your belly, but it doesn't ebb away like it normally does, and your whole body continues to roll in heat, before your back arches sharply, and the sudden crash of pleasure is unexpected but so deliciously good.

Dongmin finishes soon after, and whilst you both sit in complete silence on the mattress, bathing in your post-orgasm sweat, you shortly come to terms with two new predicaments in your life.

One, being that you actually came thinking about Kim Seungmin.

Two, being that you actually fucking liked it.

THE SUN was barely in the sky when Seungmin—who seemed to have been taught to express all of his frustration outwards—ordered the entire baseball team to run a hundred miserable laps around the campus field to make whatever was floating around his mind less pressing. They all fell behind one another but in disorientating lines, the soles of their cleats cutting into the damp morning grass.

On a normal day, Felix would've been out there too (doing his usual half-assed attempts at the warmups). Instead, he was currently lounging inside the dugout, relaxing his legs but firing his thumbs as they rapidly tapped on his phone screen.

No one—absolutely no one—was getting any sympathy out of Felix today.

"Eat a dick! Actually, eat two motherfucking girthy ass dicks and choke on it!" Felix curses with the volume of a grandparent on a phone call—just loud enough to reach beyond the glow of his fluorescent screen. In the blonde boy's defence, playing Call Of Duty was just as exhausting when you get teamed up with shitty shooters.

Seungmin, who had been monitoring the boys near the dugout, turns back to stare past his shoulder, arms still crossed in front of him with an intense scowl, as if to silently explain to Felix that whatever had pissed on his mood originally, he had managed to lift his leg and make it worse. "Remind me again why you can't practise today?"

"I actually woke up with a deadly cough," Felix responds, voice thick with offence and a badly constructed lie. "If you don't believe me, you can call up coach during his meeting and he'll tell you how it sounded pretty contagious. Enough to keep me benched until next week."

A muscle ticked in Seungmin's jaw. "Then why are you sitting here? Go be sick in your own bed."

"Can't," Felix says, a needle deep in his voice, as if the explanation to whatever he was doing should've already been threaded together by now. "If I go back now, I won't be able to use 'practice' as an excuse to get out of finishing the group assignment I've got with (Y/N). If I'm here? I'm sick but committed."

Even from where the blonde boy was sitting, he still caught onto the way Seungmin's mood turned into something closer to irritation, the kind that felt a little too personal. Now, Felix had seen Seungmin mad plenty of times (he had that one incident to refer to—when their actual pitcher, Jisung, threw out his arm right before a match and Felix had been shoved onto the mound as the last-minute replacement. And, well, as everyone could've guessed from someone with only shortstop experience, every ball he fired went sailing high and dangerously close to the batters' faces. After about the third near-decapitation, the umpire didn't buy the "bad aim" excuse anymore and disqualified their team for allegedly trying to take out the competition), but this was different, like he had forgotten Felix was naturally carefree because it seemed to involve a certain someone.

Oh. Now that's interesting.

"Did you ever pause and think she's basically running herself into the ground because you can't bother to lift a finger?" Seungmin presses further, his typical mask of pretending everything you did hadn't affected him one way or another slipping.

"Woah, I figured this reaction would've come out of Dongmin sooner or later." Felix grins, knowing better than to speak the devil's name within the circumference of Seungmin. Why? Well, nobody knew. Dongmin had been what most people called plain, from the way he looked down to his major. But there was a reason why the ace player always tightened his fist, ready to swing first at the mention of that name. And maybe Felix had his own suspicions.

Stepping back into the open field, Seungmin speaks quietly, but a dangerous sort that gives his words a bite. "Him? That asswipe is just another growing problem for her to deal with on top of everything else."

With a dismissive eye roll, Felix starts another round, the very obnoxious sounds of murder coming out of his phone not as loud as the barking orders Seungmin dishes out.

Whatever. The blonde boy was a nutrition science major, not a goddamn psychologist to pinpoint his issues. Actually, he did know, and thought that sleeping with every moving organism on campus because you can't have the one person you wanted was beyond stupid, but Felix had no intention of caring.

Suddenly, the shrilling vibration of a phone is felt underneath his thigh. "Someone's phone's ringing!" Felix announces, shifting slightly because, somehow, the rectangular object had ended up in the most uncomfortable spot, all while simultaneously concentrating on his game.

"Who is it?" Seungmin yells out, squinting his eyes at Felix.

"How would I know? I'm kinda in the middle of beating my highest kill score here," the blonde boy fires back, his tone making it sound like he's the one being inconvenienced.

There's a mere second of peace before the phone buzzes again, shooting tingles down Felix's leg.

"They're still calling, and it's vibrating against my ass," he grumbles. "Dude, if I move, it might buzz right into my rectum."

Shifting in the opposite direction to get the phone to slide out from underneath him, he manages to dislodge it just enough to catch the end pieces of the caller ID.

"Wait, hang on. The vibrations are spaced out. I think they're texting."

Exasperated, Seungmin responds, "Felix, I swear—"

"Oh, shit." From the awkward angle he twisted himself into, where he managed to support himself on the bench with only one butt-cheek, Felix finally reads out the mysterious caller, his interest piquing now that he knew whose phone was suffocating under him this whole time. "It's from (Y/N). Actually, scratch that—it's from (Y/N) with a red heart emoji."

That finally gets Seungmin's attention, immediately stopping his coaching. "What does she want?"

Something tells Felix he's about to interfere in the same business he pledged never to care about. But who could blame him for eavesdropping, or wanting small context clues? Felix swipes up and exits out of his screen, picking up the coverless phone.

Clearing his throat, he reads aloud: "Please, I need your help." Full stop. "Dongmin won't leave me alone." Full stop. "I'm in building 56 toilets. Meet me there and I'll explain everything." Full stop, end of text."

Felix hadn't noticed when Seungmin barged back into the dugout, eyes wide and laser-focused. He only realised the ace player was there when bags and equipment started getting thrown around in a frenzy.

Standing up with an alarmed look, Felix spoke with a quiver in his voice. "Whoa, whoa, what're you doing?"

Seungmin grabbed a baseball bat nestled inside one of the team's bags, and the blonde boy quickly jumped to his own conclusion. "Oh my god—wait, wait, wait! Is that for me?"

He swallowed and raised his hands defensively, finding Seungmin's hurried breaths through his nose far scarier than any horror movie Felix had ever watched—which, for reference, wasn't a lot.

“Look, I know what I said before about procrastinating and just being an all-around idiot, but I did start the project! I swear I'm halfway done, actually! And I don't have a problem with (Y/N). I think she's a really sweet girl—very studious—"

Seungmin levelled the bat to Felix's face, his withering glare the only restraint he had left. It conveyed all the anger he held for the blonde boy, wordlessly warning him that if he ever disrespected you again, Seungmin wouldn't take it lightly.

"That's great, Felix. Wanna test how far your responsibilities can go?"

Felix watched as Seungmin roped the coach's whistle off his neck before chucking it at Felix's chest, leaving him to instinctively put his hand out to catch it.

"Take over. Keep the team running laps until I'm back, or have them do drills."

"Wait, what? You're not serious?"

Perplexed by the new shiny toy in his hand, Felix's panicky eyes tread straight, following to where Seungmin jogs away, his hand fisting in the middle of the bat shaft. "Dead serious," Seungmin calls back, not even sparing a glance. "Don't let anyone stop."

The sun settled high into the sky, a summer morning more believable now with the widespread of uninterrupted blues. Jeongin, the team's known head case player, skids to a stop mid-lap, his chest heaving as he braces his hands on his knees, black hair glued down by his over-pouring sweat. "What's happening? Are we stopping?"

This morning, Felix happily skipped to practice with a fake cough and the dreams of playing electronic games until the afternoon. But now, the weight of his newfound authority felt a lot heavier than the stupid little whistle in his hand. "Maybe... no... I guess—look, I don't know how this works."

The baseball team surrounds Felix in seconds, centring him like a yolk inside an egg, and maybe that metaphor hit too close to base, because all their eyes glazed over with pure intent to pass on all their anger from Seungmin's morning boot camp onto Felix.

     Great.

SEUNGMIN COULDN'T stop feeling angry. Even with the very concerning text messages you'd sent, his skin tingled with so much annoyance as he rehearsed exactly how to bring up the fact that you'd been ignoring him for a week.

What made it worse was that the ace player was just the right type of insufferable—someone careless and casual with people's emotions because, well, they weren't his to deal with. He never chased after answers—God, nothing was more pathetic than running around trying to piece together an explanation. He'd much rather wait until they cracked first, coming to him with whatever drama they had bottled up.

But then he thought back to that day in the small theatre room no one used anymore. You'd been sitting in one of those carpeted red chairs out of a row of twenty, minding your business, before looking up, spotting him, and abruptly shoving your lunch back into your bag like his presence ruined your appetite. Then, just like that, you were gone, leaving without so much as a single word—except maybe for that hiss of pain after you missed a step and fell to the floor, giving yourself rug burns.

Now, the irony was that the same guy who swore he'd never run after someone, was practically chasing after you, breaking every one of his rules, because waiting wasn't an option.

When Seungmin reaches Building 56, he barely spares the elevator a glance—it would take too long. Instead, he flings open the emergency exit door and takes the stairs, skipping two steps at a time.

Coming up the last staircase, the noise of someone crying hits him first. Who it belonged to was hard to figure out, as a huge crowd of students flooded the main corridor, their curiosity clearly outweighing their need for personal space. The hallway was so packed that some had to squeeze past the emergency exit door, spilling into the stairwell just to get enough room to watch whatever was going on.

"Fuck... Seungmin's behind me."

The whisper was barely audible, only meant for that person's friend to hear. But like dominos, heads started turning, shoulders stiffening, and within seconds the crowd perfectly split down the middle. It might've been the bat clenched in his hand that scared them enough to move, but something told the baseball player they were shoving him out, knowing well enough he had something to do with whatever was on the other-side.

When Seungmin broke past the last person, the centre purposefully emptied out in front of him. All he saw was a sobbing Dongmin, hunched over on the floor like he'd taken a severe beating to his stomach. "I can't leave, not until you talk to me!" Dongmin yells out, inching his head upwards, noticing the low-hanging snot dribbling past his reddening lips.

This was so humiliating. Seungmin had to resist the urge to just turn around and leave Dongmin there to choke on his own spit. But he obviously couldn't—not when you were basically stuck inside the bathroom and Dongmin couldn't stop yelling at the door.

He immediately heads over, a glowered look on his face. "What did you do to her?" Seungmin speaks in an accusatory tone.

"To her?" Dongmin croaked out, the crack in his throat making it clear he couldn't believe Seungmin was so quick to point the finger at him even when he looked miserable. "What about what she did to me? She ruined me."

Seungmin shook his head in disbelief, his grip tightening on the bat as Dongmin lurched forward, finding his balance on his folded knees like a desperate man pleading his case. "All we did was have sex—really, really great sex—and then she broke up with me an hour later. Over text."

Dongmin motions to the bathroom door, his expression twisting wildly as if he were handing the ace player the key to some grander mystery. But Seungmin didn't care whether or not he was telling the truth. Not even a little.

"She's the fucking problem!" Dongmin spat, his voice cracking with frustration.

"Careful with the fucking swearing," Seungmin shot back, giving him a warning look—a little head tilt paired with a raised brow. "Now, I don't know what you thought was going to happen, but you're obviously not in the right headspace to fix this—not like this, and definitely not with half the school watching."

"If you're telling me to leave, I'm not going." Dongmin shook his head furiously, his fists clenching at his sides. "She needs to come out here and give me a good, believable reason why she broke up with me. Something that makes sense."

Seungmin's lips twitched into the faintest smirk, his voice dropping into a mutter as he leaned forward slightly. "I can think of one already."

Before Dongmin could respond, Seungmin took a step closer and crouched down, levelling their eyes. His tone turned dangerously calm, the edges of his words razor-sharp. "Here's what's going to happen. First, you're going to stop crying. Yeah, that's step one. And then, you're going to sit here quietly like a good boy while I go in there and talk to her. After that, we'll get to the bottom of this—without me having to use my bat on you."

Dongmin flinches a little, fear caught in his brown eyes. "That's a joke... right?"

"For now." Seungmin's response made the fight in Dongmin's posture cripple.

He stands up, walking towards the bathroom door. The door didn't have one of those outside handles you could yank on—just a push plate—but he could picture you on the other side, probably bracing it with your whole body, determined to keep Dongmin from slipping in.

Seungmin doesn't bother knocking. Instead, he leans in close, lowering his voice as he quietly calls out, "It's me. Can I come in?"

Quickly, the door flings open. "I'm so glad you came!" you exclaimed, not giving Seungmin the opportunity to see the state you were in before pulling him into a hug that was equally aggressive, as the ace player felt his back smack against the now closed door.

All his previous anger almost dissolved at the feeling of your body against his. Almost. You finally release Seungmin just enough to look at you, and it takes all his willpower not to visibly wince at the fact one of your false lashes hung unnaturally close to your cheek, and your lipstick was smudged enough to suggest either an emotional breakdown or a very aggressive make-out session. Or maybe a weird combination of the two.

"You got a little," he starts slowly, vaguely pointing to it, before giving up and motioning to your entire face. "Something everywhere."

You gasp, dramatically spinning to the bathroom mirror. "Oh, God." You peel off the struggling lash and place it delicately on the sink. "I didn't even notice until now—do you think I looked like this while talking to Dongmin?"

"Isn't he your ex-boyfriend now? You're way past the point of that being your priority." Seungmin says it pointedly. There's something unreasonably satisfying about saying it out loud—ex. He does it mostly for himself, but the way you react to it, how your hand stills mid-wipe as you clear away your messy eyeliner, meeting his gaze through the mirror like you're equally caught off guard, excites him.

You blink, exhaling sharply before turning back to him. "How much did he tell you?"

The baseball player shrugs, taking the opportunity to lean his bat up against the wall. "I just heard that you guys broke up."

"That's a lie." You quickly correct him, sounding breathless, like you still haven't caught up with the whole situation yet. "Dongmin’s been telling the whole school that I couldn't even let his post-nut clarity settle before I called it off. You know, just say you do..."

Seungmin doesn't answer right away. He's too distracted by how utterly out of place he looks here. The girl's bathroom mirror isn't even high enough for his build, cutting off the top of his head completely, but when you're reflected in it, everything frames you just right, allowing him to catch the way your fingers tighten around the sink behind you, white-knuckled, like you're holding onto your embarrassment there, over the idea of him knowing anything at all.

"Yeah, okay. But that's not why I'm here." Seungmin shifts against the doorframe, arms crossed, voice completely void of concern. "I couldn’t care less about his problems. I came here with a solid proof getaway plan, and it's yours if you tell me the real reason why you ghosted me for a week."

That's a lie. Obviously. He didn't have a plan—at least, not a good one. But he would've helped you regardless, no matter how much you refused to explain yourself. Because Seungmin knew you. And if you were willing to subject yourself to the absolute humiliation of having your sex life on display outside a public bathroom, then unlawful assault was about to be the least of your worries.

You don't miss a beat. "You're not being serious."

Seungmin cocks his head, cap pressing against the short strands of his fringe, an unimpressed scowl settling across his face.

"Need I remind you," you say, tone clipped, "that there's a fully grown man outside this door, crying so hard he stops momentarily to gag, and he won't let me leave?"

You throw a finger toward the entrance, as if the pitiful, hiccupping sobs weren't already obvious enough. As if on a comedic cue, Dongmin whimpers out a weak little, "Hello?" from the other side. Seungmin—who had, up until this point, been resting against the door—responds with a sharp kick against it.

The baseball player doesn't even acknowledge it before moving on. "Did he get jealous about our friendship or something? Told you not to talk to me anymore?"

—"What? No, god, no."

—"Did he... like... finish in seconds instead of minutes?"

—"That would've made you so happy."

—"Is he gay?"

—“No—stop it. I'm not answering anymore.”

—“If he didn't do anything, did you do something?”

—“What does that even mean?”

—“I don't know, you tell me.”

Seungmin had enough sparring words in him to keep going until you broke, but after his last comment, you didn't even try to reject him. That, combined with the heavy silence stretching between you in the already-cramped bathroom, was enough for the baseball player to come to his own conclusion.

You did, in fact, do something.

And from the looks of it—your real lashes clumped together with wetness, not from sadness, but raw, unrelenting frustration. Like you were pissed at yourself for trying so hard to hold yourself together, only to break anyway.

Seungmin sighs deeply. He decides he'll tuck his own stubbornness faraway for now. The baseball player pushes off the wall and reaches for your wrist, noticing a not so inconspicuous tug back from your arm, as if his very hands were lit on fire and even being mere centimetres from him could leave deep burns. Either that or you were still very much angry that Seungmin’s default setting wasn’t to help you, but to clear away his own agenda.

“We won't do this here." Seungmin grumbles, tugging the cap off his own head—it's his most worn item to date, safely perched on his nightstand every single day since freshman year, ready to grab whenever he heads out the door—and smoothly places it over yours. But he doesn't stop there. His fingers linger at the brim, purposely tugging it lower so the edge dips past your eyes, effectively working to block the view of anything really.

"There." He steps back, watching you awkwardly try to beam up at him from beneath the shadow of the cap. It stuns Seungmin for a moment when he notices his chest tightening. Oh. “That's your magical cloak. Now you don't have to see them, and they don't get to see any part of you."

You purse your lips, clearly thinking. "Okay, that solves one issue," you say slowly, lifting your hands and flailing them dramatically in the open space in front of you. “But, um... I can't see shit, which is terrible if I also need to, y'know... walk.”

“Just trust me.” Seungmin says it simply, darting his fingers out, keeping his growing irritation to a minimum as he watches you hesitate yet again. "Keep your head down and watch only my hands. Nothing else."

He moves closer to the bathroom door, but pauses when he feels a different kind of heat bloom against his palm. He whirls back with a final look of surprise, only to find the brim of his hat staring back at him—attached to what looks like a rather convincing Sim character, standing frozen, waiting for the next task.

“Ready?”

There's a large intake of air. “No... does that mean we're fucked already?”

THERE ARE shards of glass slicing up your lungs as you rest against a darkly coated wooden desk—metaphorically this time, of course. The whole idea of Seungmin being the school’s golden arm had momentarily escaped you the second he bolted with you in hand. If you had remembered—instead of worrying about Dongmin grabbing onto your ankles—you wouldn’t have agreed, and maybe you wouldn’t be here, tasting iron in the back of your throat. Stupid.

When you finally manage to look up, a hand pressed into your side to keep the stitch from fully forming, the setting around you forces a breathy laugh from your lips, thick with irony.

The boy’s locker room.

How fitting that just minutes ago, you had Seungmin trapped inside the girl’s bathroom, and now he’s returned the favour—stepping past rows of open lockers and the souring smell of sweat, just to lock you up inside the coach’s office.

“Was your boyfriend always this pathetic?” Seungmin is the forgetful one this time. He stands with his back against the door, as if the large window panel beside it hadn’t already given away the perpetrators inside the tiny room, with a certain weight in his eyes despite his joking tone. It makes you wonder whether it’s just another one of his calculated questions, designed to get you to say exactly what he wants.

You gulp before stating, matter-of-factly, “You mean ex-boyfriend.”

And saying it should hurt—should feel like a sharp reminder that there’s now a gaping hole in your chest. But instead, it gets mistranslated in the way you tip back to sit further up on the desk, letting your Mary Jane-clad feet swing from a table that’s probably seen more balled fists slammed down in anger than anything else.

“No. That’s why everything he’s doing now surprises me.” The second the words are out, they hang wrong in the air. You’re doing it again. Giving him the benefit of a doubt he’s never earned. Instantly, your mouth curls, and before you know it, you fall into Seungmin’s trap one way or another. “Actually, you know what? Yeah. He’s so fucking pathetic.”

You lock eyes with the baseball player, gripped by this strange urge to unload a year’s worth of frustration onto him—the same way his coach expects his bat to hit a home run every time. And you don’t know if it’s because he looks strong enough to take it, or because you want to see if he’ll break. See if he’ll finally get angry at you.

“Dongmin has been pathetic since the night I tried riding him and he panicked about me bending his shrivelling dick into some weird flesh origami. He’s selfish and stupid. Always has been… he just did a really fucking good job of making me think he wasn’t.”

You scoff, doing everything to stay light and calm under these weird circumstances. Though the room still clings to a quietness that leaves no room for peace—just an overbearing pressure that reminds you Seungmin is very much here, listening to you blurt out your sex horror stories—still watching you.

His face doesn’t shift. You regret ever taking his sarcastic nature for granted, because you would’ve killed to see his lips wobble with the control to keep himself from smiling. But there’s not a smirk.

Then he says it—low.

“Who was it?”

Your pulse stutters. It’s a vague question, and you could, all the more, ask him to explain himself clearer, but you knew what it had to be after the commotion in the toilet—so did your body, which involuntarily thinks about the time it stung with pleasure underneath Dongmin, thinking about Seungmin—and all you can muster as a response is… nothing.

You watch nervously, suddenly turning into a gladiator in an arena, eyeing the stalking lion that pushes off the doorframe, rounding around the desk. It was quite possibly the hottest Seungmin had ever looked. But you knew the reason why he kept walking closer—halting just where your knees tied close together—was because you had already given your confession in reverse, and all he was looking for was proof that he wasn’t going insane.

Instinctively, your mind wills your legs to part—just enough, a silent invitation for Seungmin to close the space between you. But he’s already made that decision himself. His hands brush the sides of your knees, guiding them apart before stepping in, like he’s been waiting for this moment longer than you’ve been dreading it.

The hem of your skirt hikes up with the movement, the cool air licking at the heat between your thighs—your body betraying you, aching to buck into the rough fabric of his pants.

“Seungmin,” you breathe, though you don’t know if it’s a warning, or a plea. It sounds too soft. Too wanting. Like you’re asking for something neither of you are ready to name.

His fingers haven’t stopped swiping at your skin. “What did I do?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.” That was a lie. But it felt easier than trying to explain the truth—that it wasn’t him fucking you senselessly into the mattress that pushed you over the edge. It was worse than that. It was the image of him smiling, soft and stupid. Or the quiet outline of his back turned toward you, relaxed and unguarded, like he was waiting for you to come wrap your arms around him.

That was what ruined you. Something so devastatingly ordinary that it cracked the floor beneath you wide enough to fall straight through it.

Straight into him.

He laughs, puffing hot air into your face. “Bullshit. You haven’t been able to look at me for more than a second.” There’s a note of patience in his throat. “I knew it was me… even before you got with Dongmin.”

By now, the desperate need for him to hold you is confused with the want to punish him.

“If you knew—” You shove him a little. He doesn’t budge, and it does nothing but anger you more when you feel him inch his fingers under your skirt, dizzyingly close to where your hips meet your thighs, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take while you’re still mad at him.

And he takes, and takes.

“If you knew, then why’d you mess with me so much? You could’ve left me alone. But instead, you slept with every girl who looked your way. Paraded them in front of me like I wasn’t even—”

“Because I wanted you to stop looking at me like I was something you could actually love,” Seungmin says harshly. “I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to do relationships without disappointing someone. So yeah, I might’ve fucked girls who didn’t matter—sue me. You also used Dongmin to bury everything you felt for me.”

Your jaw is tight, glaring intensely. “I did love him.”

But by now, the button of Seungmin’s jeans is pressed firm against the heat of your core, and you can’t think back on any shared memory between your ex-boyfriend that had the opportunity to come this close to being this shattering. No, there had to be one. Was there?

When he speaks again—his voice barely a breath, inches from your wet mouth—it doesn’t sound like a confession.

It sounds like a fucking verdict.

“Enough to picture my face while he was fucking you.”

Then there’s a moment—just one—where your mouths finally collide (with the lone clumsiness of forgetting the baseball player’s hat and colliding with the brim first before anything, chucking it to the side), hands grabbing and kneading your body with such force. And Seungmin’s mouth—fuck—his mouth leaves a small cluster of fires that drop into your belly, igniting and burning down the lining of your stomach until all that’s left is a hollowed-out ache in the shape of him.

You whimper when his fingers dip low, hooking under the thin bands of your underwear. He tugs—up—and the fabric wedges tight between your folds, pressure zeroing in on your clit so sweet and sharp it knocks the breath out of you.

“Ngh—ah—” you gasp, legs twitching and opening wider. He settles back, eyes blown out and taking you in.

Then he drags one finger down. Slow. Feather-light. Tracing the tension he just created. From the peak, right over the swollen fabric, down, down—until he’s pressing deep over your clothed entrance, and it’s enough to break something loose inside you.

“Was this how you looked like thinking about me?” You moan in response to his lewd question, your hips jerking forward, chasing the friction like it’s the only thing that makes sense anymore. It’s pathetic how quickly you’re spiralling. How fast he reduces you to this before he’s even inside you.

And that terrifies you.

Because this was real. It wasn’t the dissociating images you conjure up to distract you from the stale rhythm of someone trying to love you the right way. It was Seungmin, with his teasing mouth and bruised heart, being consumed with his very own desires and satiating it the only way he knew how to.

It was imperfect.

“I can’t do this.” Your hand slips up, resting lightly against his arm—just enough pressure to still him. Seungmin stops, confusion flashing across his face, then fades into something softer. He doesn’t speak—just watches you, waiting.

“I trust you as my best friend. I always have.” You glance away for a beat, then back up at him. “But this... what we’re doing—I don’t trust you with it. Not yet. It has to grow naturally. I need to know it’s real. That this isn’t just... hormones or timing or some ego trip because I came thinking about you.”

There’s still an unclear want to give in to him while resisting him. “I don’t want 20 minutes of something intense that disappears by morning. I want to know we’re both in this for the right reasons. That we’re risking the friendship because we actually want each other... not because it feels good to be wanted.”

The silence stretches. “I’m not saying don’t try. I’m saying... if we’re doing this, I need us both to mean it.”

This is the part you forgot how to do. The part that got buried after a year of being Dongmin’s perfect ‘yes man’. Always agreeable, always softening your edges to fit the version of you he could manage. You spent so long smoothing over his messes that the idea of setting a boundary felt foreign.

So no—choosing yourself doesn’t feel like some glowing act of self-empowerment. It feels like rejecting the one thing you’ve been aching for. It feels like standing in front of someone you’ve loved in too many complicated, unspoken ways... and saying not yet.

“If that’s what you need, I’ll try.” It’s not a promise, but it’s enough. Seungmin leans back, helping you readjust your underwear, the wetness making sitting all the more uncomfortable, though it entertains the baseball player. Perhaps it’s a small payback from all the shitty treatment he’s gotten from his coach.

“Just… don’t hold the first three screw-ups against me,” he adds, mouth twitching into something not quite a smile. “I’m more practice than presentation. Not really the flowers and teddy bears type.”

A small laugh tumbles past your lips, appreciating the familiarity in his tone. “No. You’re more ‘boy’s locker room and lending your girl your baseball jersey after marking her up in it’ type.”

That gets him. A blink paired with a slow raise of one slit brow—like he’s filing the image away in his memory cabinet in real time, just in case he needs it later for inspiration.

Your phone buzzes with perfect timing, eliminating the growing awkwardness. Fishing it out and lazily flicking open your screen, Seungmin doesn’t ask at first. Just watches. But the second your features quirk—

“Who is it?” he says, not too casual, distracting himself by bending and picking up his baseball cap, dusting it off against his thigh that was too close to his growing bulge.

You glance up. “Weird... it’s Felix. He just sent me his part of the project. I’ve been chasing him down for a week.”

Seungmin leans back against the window, arms crossed again. “Guess guilt finally won.” He says it flatly, but there’s a flicker of something beneath his words—amusement, mostly. Like he’ll bring this moment up in a couple of days, preferably around Felix, coaxing him to outwardly say who had played a big role in successfully getting him to help you.

You type a quick reply, shooting off a sarcastic thank-you message with one hand. A beat later, your phone dings again. But this time, the sound doesn’t come from your device.

It comes from somewhere outside the door.

Seungmin pieces it together quickly. “Felix?” Craning his head back to peer out through the office window, the ace player watches parts of his fellow teammate become visible behind a row of lockers, hand poking out within the darkness, holding up a lit phone.

“I was gonna knock,” comes Felix’s unmistakable voice—a little nervous and rightfully grossed out for someone who eavesdropped from outside the coach’s office. “But things got wild really quickly… so I tried breaking the ice over text.”

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

I can only share my interest in Aegon to you, so I’ll just drop this here. (Dw, contrary to what I say next, this is not a request. Just desperation.)

Broski, I NEED reader wife who’s scared of heights and dragons but Aegon gets her to ride with him just cuz he feels like it. (My hand is probably 1/3 smaller than one of their teeth. I believe Anyone sane should be scared sh’tless while seeing a dragon. 💀)

I ONLY READ ONE FIC WHERE THEY FLY ON A DRAGON! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AEMOND FICS OF THISS??? HELP ME FIND MORE CUZ I NEED TO HAVE A RIDE ON A DRAGONNNNN. Imagine the refreshing air and scenery. (I personally imagine the beautiful pink/orange clouds from Httyd when Hiccup and Astrid fly together for the first time)😭⚰️

.

.

Also, about the death threats, you handled it well. Really, when everyone finds out you like a hated character, it’s like they are trying to get you to sign your own death sentence. Anyway, keep doing you. You write exceptionally ��🫶 ily

PROMISE NOT TO DROP ME? ONLY A FOOL WOULD DROP YOU. ( HOTD x Reader )

pairing: Prince Aegon ii Targaryen x Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: Aegon kidnaps you to ride on dragonback, it does not go well. word count: 1, 000+ words

You had been very very firm when it came to dragon's. You were no Targaryen nor held a drop of Valyrian blood in your veins. Sure, you like to gawk at them in art. The dozen paintings, stained glass windows, and books that filled the Red Keep were enough. You would never dare to go near one in real life. Dragon’s were not natural. To ride one, to tame one, it was not natural. A lot of the things that the Targaryen’s did were not natural. 

So when you started as Helaena's Lady-in-waiting, you did everything you could to politely refuse to be near them. Need to go to the Dragonpits? The carriage was nice and comfy, no need to leave it. When Helaena offered to fly with her? Suddenly you grew ill with a cough. Helaena accepted, understanding your fears. She offered kind words and an open invitation should you ever change your mind on the matter.

Aegon was, as always, different. The word 'no'  just could not connect in that tiny little brain of his. He took it as a challenge. He would jest about kidnapping you and taking you flying. You laughed and told him you'd push him out of a window if he dared to do it. 

Of course, he had tried once with a look a little too serious on his face. After waddling away, clutching his groin from your hard kick, he learned that it would not be easy to get you on dragonback. You’d fight back. You would be a challenge, he liked that a lot.

Kicking and screaming at the top of your lungs, you did everything you could think of to get free of Aegon's hold. Clawing at his arms wrapped around your waist, he dragged you along to the Dragonpits, the dragon keeper's onlooking in confusion and mild horror. You could give less of a shit if they thought you mad. There was no way in the Seven Hells that you were going on a flight with Aegon. You'd rather kiss the King's rotten lips than to go flying.

"No! Put me down, you drunken oaf!" You shout, thrashing against him.

"No."

"I am going to kick you so hard you'd never be able to get it up again, Aegon! Put me down!" You bellow, yanking at his hair.

"Not a chance, we are going flying." Aegon brushes off your threats, "You will enjoy it. Tis' delightful."

Letting out a loud scream into his ear, he did not falter, running off of pure spite and stubbornness. It would have been admirable, if it was not for the fact he was dragging you along to go flying. Yanking hard on his hair, he yelps loudly, though his grip does not falter. Gods damn it, why did he have to be strong? Sensing that fighting would not help you, you tried another way.

"Please, please, Aegon." You beg, "I'll give up my desserts for a whole moon. Just let me go."

"Tempting." He chuckles, a smirk on his face.

"Please, Aegon. I do not wish to fly." You beg, on the verge of tears.

"I fly all the time. Once I even did it drunk, tis' nothing dangerous." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

Shaking your head frantically as his grip tightens, he drags you into the dark cave, the stench of dragon thick in the air. The few torchlights in the cave illuminated enough to see his dragon, Sunfyre, burrowing into his rocky nest. Feeling tears of fear bubbling up, you go deadly silent, losing your voice. This was your worst dream come true. Face to face with a dragon. Holding back the whimper in your throat, Aegon presses a kiss onto your temple, refusing to let you go.

“He won’t harm you. He’s used to your scent.” Aegon whispers into your ear, “I brought him one of your dresses to smell.”

“Let me go.” You whimper out, voice full of pure terror. 

“Come on, you’re already here. Let’s just go for a quick flight.” Aegon argues, shaking his head dismissively. 

“Aegon..”

Slowly letting go of your waist, you go to bolt for the cave exit, only to be swept back up into Aegon’s arms. He carried you like a toddler who had a habit of running away. Letting out a loud cry as he refused to put you back down, he wags his finger mockingly, a half amused look on his face. Hearing Sunfyre stir in his nest, you try more desperately to get away, the rumbling of the dragon echoing loudly in the cave. 

“No, no, no.” He scolds, “Bad Y/n. No running away.”

“Put me down! I want to go back to the Red Keep!” 

“No, if I have to attend Court, then you cannot escape this.” He suggests, “Consider this your duty.”

“Fuck duty. Put me down, Aegon!” You sob, bottom lip wobbling. 

“Ooh, so now we do not care about duty, hm?” He mocks, shaking his head with a smirk.

Pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple, he carried you closer and closer to Sunfyre, until the two of you were right in the dragon’s face. Feeling your grip tighten on him, he slowly smiles at the feeling, like see you so unlike yourself. This had to be the first time he had seen you act so improper and anxious. It was refreshing, amazing, and amusing all at the same time. 

Smiling bright as Sunfyre stirs away, the golden dragon huffs at the two of you, his two large green eyes staring back. Puffing his chest out in pride, he hoped the sight of his dragon would impress you and make you swoon. His dragon always got compliments. Looking down at your face, there was not an ounce of admiration or awe or anything positive, only terror. 

“He’s pretty is he not?” He gloats proudly, “You know, they say he is the prettiest dragon to have ever been hatched.”

“If I survive this, I am going to kill you.” You whisper out, face pale.

“Stop speaking as if you are going to die. Sunfyre would not dare to attack, not whilst I am here.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve seen your dragon, can we leave now. I want to go back to the Red Keep, Aegon.” You whimper, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

"No. Don't you dare." He argues, "Don't you dare do the whole crying trick on me. I am not foolish like Helaena and can be swayed."

Watching as you sniffle and whimper, his grip tightens on you, not wanting to give up just yet. Seeing the big puppy dog eyes you give him, he grits his teeth, tensing up. He falter's for a moment. He was always sucker for those big puppy dog eyes of yours. You knew how to make him crumble.

"No, no, no, don't give me that look." He tries to resist.

"Please, Aegon."

"No. Stop that." He shakes his head, "Stop that right now. I demand you stop that."

"I..I want to go home, Aegon. Please, take me home." You beg, sniffling.

Letting out an exasperated groan at you begging and pleading to go home, he begrudgingly agrees to it, knowing that it would be no fun if you cried the entire time. Scowling like a child who had its toy taken away, he loosens his grip on you, putting you back down onto your feet. One day he’d get you on dragonback. Sadly, just not today.

"Aegon, please, I want to go home." You whimper, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“Fine, fine, stop crying.” He grumbles, “But next time, we are going to actually get on the dragon.”

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

[loveissupernatural]

Hicctooth Rant 🩷

I started watching the How to Train Your Dragon movies again and have even gotten into the series this time around (childhood nostalgia 🩷) and dammit if Toothless and Hiccup’s beautiful relationship doesn’t make me cry like a baby!

I was also reminded of how heartbreaking the ending of THW was and started digging into post-epilogue information. Because my fragile little heart couldn’t take the idea that Hiccup and Toothless didn’t visit post-epilogue.

Besides the fact that all previous HTTYD movies, shorts, and series established how deep and unbreakable their bond was, so it wouldn’t be logical for them to have this emotional reunion and that be “the end” - I mean, why would they introduce their families to one another just to go “Yeah, I know that was amazing - sorry, peace out” - but from a logical standpoint, Toothless’s tail prosthetic is going to need maintenance. They don’t make prosthetics today that last a *human* lifetime, so it wouldn’t make sense to assume that Toothless’s would last potentially hundreds of years with Viking technology. Sure, it’s fireproof now, but there’s still gears, mechanical elements, etc. that will be exposed to all kinds of environments and wear and tear. Hiccup is constantly remaking and improving Toothless’s tail fins throughout the series and movies.

Hiccup even mentions in the epilogue “How’s the tail holding up? Need any oil, some fine-tuning?” If that thing breaks, Toothless, as alpha and protector of not only his family, but the Hidden World, is screwed. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.

I love that with the release of the holiday special “HTTYD: Homecoming”, we see that even a decade after they parted ways, they still miss each other. Toothless drawing Hiccup in the sand, then Berk, then himself, and drawing a line from himself to Hiccup - it was beautiful. And so in-character for their relationship 🩷 And Hiccup building a mechanical Toothless costume that breathes fire and is so hard to function in that he falls off a cliff and Toothless saves him? Oh my heart ATE IT UP!

Toothless never saw bearded Hiccup, but he could hear and smell him, and was licking and cuddling that suit 🥺 Oh the “almost” of it all killed me, but it had to make sense with the epilogue. Toothless seeing Hiccup’s daughter and going goo-goo over her immediately melted my heart. His eyes were shining!

I’m glad that Hiccup saw Toothless and family flying away, and called out, so he knew they were indeed there. Then Astrid saying “maybe it’s our turn to visit them”. Oh I just love all of the implications!

Then “Snoggletog Log” - Toothless and his whole family in Hiccup and Astrid’s house for the holidays? SIGN ME TF UP! I’d like to think this was the Snoggletog after the epilogue. I think there’s evidence for this too, if you look at the size of Toothless’s babies. When Hiccup goes to carry off a sleeping baby, from head to tail, it looks longer than they did in “Homecoming”.

Then comes the newest piece of media - “Dragons: The Nine Realms”. I haven’t watched it because the animation looks horrifically baby-ish, but I did try to see what was mentioned about Hiccup/Toothless/etc. They found a cave painting in the Hidden World of Toothless with Hiccup and his family (inside the cave where the Night Lights, Toothless’s descendants, stay) and they also found Hiccup’s artificial leg, a working desk, books, etc. So at some point, our boys came back together and explored the Hidden World (can we get content on this please??)

There’s even a story in the book that Hiccup wrote about he and Toothless (and likely the other dragon riders, because that cage was huge) working together to build a cage and trap this enormous apex predator Snake-like creature - which was eating dragons whole. Apparently it’s the whole reason dragons are afraid of eels. The lock mechanism could only be unlocked by a fury with retractable teeth. Hiccup even used his mom’s staff to lure it into the cage. I loved this detail. Then the book illustration shows us a close-up of a bearded Hiccup and Toothless touching noses, and then their silhouettes watching the cage from far away. Also, all of Hiccup’s artifacts having a Night Fury on them? My heart!

There are mixed opinions on what’s “canon” and what’s not - in my opinion, if DreamWorks released it and said it’s in the HTTYD universe, then it’s canon (they own the ip). “Homecoming” and the HTTYD 3 epilogue strongly hinted at Hiccup and Toothless returning to each others’ lives in some capacity, even if it’s only occasional visits. It lines up much more with their relationship than the alternative (I’m looking at you, Dean - I fully believe he just wanted everyone to be as sad as humanly possible even though the character behaviors he’d established thus far didn’t align with the ending he was determined to have).

A lot of people feel that way, and it cracks me up that DreamWorks appears to agree. Everything they’ve released after HTTYD 3 is encouraging the idea of a post-epilogue relationship between the families. Then 9 Realms releases and we get official confirmation that Toothless and Hiccup kept having adventures, and being in each others’ lives, and it just made my little heart glow. Because THAT aligns with the “we are stronger together, our love can endure anything” message that all HTTYD content was about (until the end of THW🙄).

I’m so glad they came back together. It just makes sense for the characters and the strong relationship they built between them. I’d really love a movie or series explaining why Hiccup had to go down to the Hidden World again - did Toothless come ask for his help? How soon was this after the epilogue? How long did they stay down there, who was with them, and what all did they have to do? Did Hiccup and Toothless stay together until the end? I have a headcanon of them exploring Valhalla together 😭

[arttrashking]

I kind want wukong to move on in your au. It is clear that macaque wasn't that good for him,sometimes...making himself improve himself over and over again,just to get macaque approval....when he gets nothing in return,he deserves to be happy,it best he shouldn't be dependent on macaque to be happy,he needs let go in his own way.

I really want Wukong to be happy (I am wukong bias)

“To fill those months he spent…without me caring what he felt…”

The king feels the painful ache in his heart and head just recalling how he never asked Macaque about those months even now…to afraid to hear to misery and to recall the news adding into their already crumbling lives after that fire…

If he could, he’d redo everything but if he had to choose one thing to fix…it would be the first time he felt his Ma ache didn’t hiccup and weep through his apology that Wukong should e spoken to him. To stay in that room and hold him tight, promise him they’d make their family a different way and assuring the beautiful demon that his love wasn’t dependent on his string he was or what he offered and serviced the king with.

That his love was never going to fade for him if he didn’t put Wukong above everyone.

“…if anyone should move on…it should be him…he should’ve moved on centuries ago… it he didn’t…how do I repay a loyalty so….so cruel to one’s self?”

Yeeeeaaaah I fancy myself of having their selfishness towards each other appearing at different times- Wukong when he was young loved Macaque he truly did- he just also assumed that it didn’t change that he does what he wants without compromise on his own end…and Macaque was like how Wukong is now- dependent on him and his love and attention. Wukong was freedom for him, Wukong was his first everything and the man he left behind his home and family for. If he didn’t have Wukong’s love, what was the point of leaving his home? To be outed as the naive fool who gave a selfish demon his all only to be tossed once he wasn’t valuable.

Wukong switched places now- now he’s desperate to covet Macaque- to keep him at his side and never let go as it was once he became emperor that the distance between them started to become obvious and he even slept in different rooms until he cried to Macaque who gave in on being in the same room- trying to be normal again. And they hit some normalcy despite Macaque wishing to go home still, MK came in eventually, and it was stable- and Wukong managed to even give Macaque something they thought they’d never have- a child in the form of MK.

With the divorce arc tho- it’s because things fell apart again because a child didn’t fix it all and the fact nobody apologized yet, and Macaque wants to do something he wants with or without Wukong now- so he’d rather separate and go home than just nodding to whatever Wukong wants

(Can you tell I like the angsty drama despite my crying eyes rn? 🥲)

But yeah I love Wukong very much as a character which is why [holding trauma gun] he needs all this for the JUICE of my meal that is this plot/j

[lilmissbacon]

Miraculous Art Club AU part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

(I have lightly changed Marc's ladybug mask)

I had originally planned to just share a little on this au before I make a YouTube video for it but with how long it's taking for me to finish my High Guardian Spice rewrite first, it's not gonna happen for a while. Meanwhile I genuinely wanna share more on this au because I'm on a miraculous fix right now.

Notice that I low-key put the couples in similar poses to each other? This was 100% unintentional 😆 (Edit: changed Mari's pigtails)

I had also wanted to finish my redesigns for our main character's civilian fits before anything else just to try and keep myself in some type of order to get this done.

And you know that fun little fact of how Marinette and Adrien's color pallets are the inverted colors of each other to kinda showcase they were made for each other? Well, I decided to have some fun and apply a color language for all of the couples in this au. They're not all inversions, but they all have some type of rule to tie their color pallets together in pairs. I also decided to challenge myself and apply it to their superhero forms as well because I hate myself 😂

So we'll get into the designs as well as some of my rewrite storyline. I ended up sharing a lot more than I expected so this isn't super organized. Especially when I got to the Adrien section I kinda just started talking about potential Nathaniel plot. But I did my best to keep some sort of order.

Now, I think I'm the only person who's realized that, while Marinette and Adrien are inversions of each other, Ladybug and Chat Noir also have their own color language.

Ladybug is red and black while Chat noir is black and green. They share one color and sport an opposite color, red and green. And which color that's mainly sported is switched (red = Ladybug's main color vs green = Chat Noir's secondary color).

That being said, I decided to not only use that for Marc and Nathaniel's colors, but to have them wear each other's colors in the miraculous like in canon with Caprikid/Roosterbold. So Marc's colors are black and green while Nate's are red and black.

In my au, Marc starts the first episode in a much more boring fit of a green hoodie under a black hood jacket with black pants and boots, but then Juleka would try to help him express himself more by letting him borrow some of her clothes (they just happen to be the same size). And Juleka is much more into the vampire/witchy aesthetic, hence why he has a crop hoodie with the moon phases on it. The backpack is her's from the year before as well. The frog purse I thought would just be cute for Tikki to be sticking out of, but I like to think it's a present from his mom before the big move or maybe something he got as a kid but never used again because he was bullied for it (finally using it again now that he's gained some more confidence). Now don't get me wrong, he's not going to be more confident like Marinette was after the events of origins. He's still going to have this extreme social anxiety that he has to deal with, but with the help of his childhood friend, Luka, and now Juleka, he's finally found it in himself to at least dress the way he wants.

I don't have nearly as much to say about Nate's fit because he doesn't have the symbolic costume change that Marc gets. Just that while his colors are red and black, the splotch pattern on his shirt is kinda meant to look like the cataclysm of the cat miraculous he uses. Similar to the moon phase wheel on Marc's hoodie (a spot/circle shape), it's a peek into the actual miraculous that they use.

Now, despite his last name, I personally never saw him as Jewish for the longest time. I've never really been one to actively look for someone's ethnicity but when the topic came up, weirdly enough, if anything I got more of a Viking vibe from him. Though it wasn't until after saying that out loud to myself that I realized that might be because he reminded me of Hiccup in the first How to Train Your Dragon 💀🤣 But I am more than willing to make him both Viking and Jewish. Both on his deceased dad's side, his mom isn't very present in his life (emotionally). His cuffs are kind of the calling card for my viking headcanon, while his miraculous/ring's disguised form has the Chai symbol on it, which means life. And because he's Jewish on his dad's side, it's almost like a sign from his dad to keep living his life 🥹

Again I'm not going super deep into the family drama right now because this post is already going to be long enough as it is.

Their colors are inverted like Marinette and Adrien. I will say, when you look at Luka inverted, the gray of his shirt and the teal of his hair may be more light brown and orange. But that's why Chloe has sparkly brown eyeshadow and orange lensed glasses 😋 I make it work.

Luka is canonically the only other boy Chloe has considered attractive so how could I not pair them in the au? Luka is a very calm and collected person that can bring Chloe down to reality and because he's always been so responsible in helping others most of his life, Chloe makes the time to spoil him while trying to be more responsible around him so he can stay loose.

Yes, Luka's gonna be less of a heartthrob musician cliche in this au. He's already canonically the therapist of basically everyone in Paris while keeping Ladybug and Chat Noir's ID's secret, boi has to be stressed out.

He doesn't go to Collège Françoise Dupont because of a delinquent rep he indirectly built while protecting Marc from bullies growing up. So he'd meet Chloe for the first time, outside of the school bully context and be able to see through her spoiled brat persona.

I'll note here that in my au, Chloe doesn't see Adrien romantically. She's gonna be more like the protective sibling and see Adrien as family. But she's willing to make people see them in a romantic light if it means protecting Adrien from fangirls who'd take advantage of him.

Which would make it kinda funny when Adrien and Marinette start liking each other. Like, by the time they do, Chloe's redemption arc has already happened (she's still the sassy queen we know and love but she's much less insulting and more mature now. I see her being pretty similar to Stella from Winx (s1-3 Stella, we don't talk about Stella passed the first movie)(I my god I just realized Luka x Chloe is totally super Stella x Brandon coded 🤣🤣🤣)) so she no longer holds any antagonistic will towards Marinette but because of their past, she knows that she has no room to go against the adrienette ship. So she's kinda just watching their feelings grow and is like, "... This is so weird."

Now, is it kinda gaudy to wear pearls, diamonds and gold all in one outfit? Yes. Is Chloe also a teenager trying to show off how rich she is, partially in the hope that she'll make more friends using her money? Very much so. I doubt her shorts pass the school dress code but she most likely paid off the school board to let her dress however she wants.

(It wasn't until after I finished writing this post that I realized I never said what their super names would be ☠️ I was just expecting to share some art in my first post before my video. So before we go any further:)

Marc/ladybug = Beetle Bug

Nathaniel/black cat = Catico (like calico but cat pun)(I'm gonna make it a thing that Nathaniel's dad loved puns and dad jokes)

Luka/fox = Otocyon

Chloe/dragon/bunny = Ladoness/Bella Bunny

Alix/ox = Onyx

Juleka/turtle = Marina

Rose/bee = Zinnia

Adrien/butterfly/snake = Papillon/Aspik

And I'll also say this here; that I did draw these fits with what miraculous they'd end up with in the end (though I also kept in the butterfly on Adrien just so you could see what it'd look like for him (he's wearing the brooch on a chain necklace)). I've shown Chloe having the dragon and she'd be getting it the same way she got the bee in canon. But before she ever gets the chance to crash out and reveal her identity to the public, the moment Audrey says Chloe wasn't exceptional, Nathaniel (who had been invited to the show by Marinette as her +1 because they're pretty close friends by this point) goes off on Audrey about how much of a horrible mother and person she has to be for saying something like that. He wouldn't care that she's famous because she has no effect on his life and let's just say, he could kind of relate to Chloe in that moment 🫢. So my plan is that she finds the dragon miraculous but no one finds out, and then a few days later a new dragon hero called Ladoness starts joining in on the fights. Not even Beetle Bug or Catico know who she is and at first they do try to get the dragon miraculous back but after a while of her evading that, they realize that she's genuinely trying to help and be a good hero, so they decide to give her the chance.

And because Loong is kinda meant to be like, the typical wise one of the kwamis (edit: for some reason my brain mixed Loong and Sass as one, Sass is more the mentor-ish kwami but I can still see them having similar personalities as close friends), he kinda becomes like Chloe's "Uncle Iroh." It would be a lot of fun banter because of Chloe's selfishness but because he is a cosmic entity, he's the only one she felt like she couldn't exactly say no to without repercussions. Yeah, he never told her that the holder could control kwamis. 1) To be safe, and 2) If she's gonna keep evading giving the miraculous back to its rightful guardian then he's gonna take charge to at least try and make her a better person while he's here.

Now I'm explaining this because she's not exactly wearing the dragon miraculous here. Luka would originally only have the silver diamond shaped necklace before getting the fox, who's disguised form is the boat anchor necklace. And I'm sure you're not blind, noticing that she has the rabbit miraculous on her design sheet. Because my plan is for her identity to eventually be revealed unwillingly, to which she would have to give up the dragon. Symbolizing how she no longer needs one to feel more important now that she's finally made new friends in the art club. Though it is still sad because despite their troubles, she and Loong did grow to care for one another. In the same vein of a responsible older sibling taking care of their troublemaking younger sibling. Think Lilo and Nani from Lilo & Stitch.

Their couple color scheme? Similar clothing colors and opposite hair. Hair: purple vs yellow, easy. Clothing: purple & pink being next to each other on the color wheel. Sharing some light pink while that pink on Juleka is also near white to be compared to the white on Rose's top. Sharing dark/black leggings & shoes. Also giving their tops the opposite design for who you'd expect to be wearing them. To showcase their connection but I also think it better showcases themselves as characters. Because while Juleka is very goth and into the dark and spooky, she also very kind and shy. Meanwhile we know that Rose is sickeningly sweet but she's also into hard rock and heavy metal. I totally see her as being the type of person who you'd never expect to like horror films, but it turns out that she actually loves them. Because they can be a source of releasing pent up stress and anger.

I'mma make a canonical reason for Juleka having red eyes being that she has ocular albinism, which from what I know, can have a side effect of being sensitive to light. Hence how she got into the dark and creepy. Just wanting to be inside or in the dark because of her eye sensitivity. Vampires + other supernatural creatures often being depicted with red eyes in movies/stories, which made her feel a little more seen as a child who had no one else that shared this unique trait of her's. So despite being made fun of for her red eyes as a kid, she's always emulated the aesthetic of vampires as a way to kinda embrace it. Encouraged by her mother. Who taught her that bullies aim to make you feel bad about what makes you special and if you take pride in it, then those bullies can't win.

Juleka still has some sense of self diffidence about her eyes because of the bullying and no one else in her real life not having it, but she never lets it show.

As for Rose's story, she was still sick at some point like in canon. But I'm specifying it so that it was a massive tumor she had in her head. One so big that when it was finally removed, it left a massive empty space in her head and that is what causes her headaches. Her head muscles pulsating because there's not supposed to be a pocket space there. She is perfectly fine but because Juleka looked up on tumors to be safe (if you still have pains after a tumor removal, it might mean that it's grown back) she now has a constant fear about it. And yes, having an empty space in your head and still being perfectly functional is possible. I've seen situations where the brain was even worse but the person was fine and I even went over this idea with my mom who works at a hospital. The human body is fucking insane.

Though this is how Juleka and Rose actually met. The year prior, Juleka was repeating she was assigned next to Rose in class to help her with class work (because she was having memory/learning troubles during treatments and after the surgery) for extra grade points. And befriending Juleka is how she was introduced to the horror genre as well. It's... weirdly what helped manage to emotionally get her through the stress of having surgery. The logic would probably be something along the lines of, "nothing like what that slasher or werewolf did would ever happen in the operating room." To us that's very weird logic but to a child/preteen, that makes sense, ya know? When Rose is older and looks back on it, even she's confused about that logic.

And just to leave off to the next couple, with their pair coloring rule on their superhero forms: While the deep green of Juleka's turtle suit is kind of a stretch to match with Rose's bright yellow, they still share black, and Juleka's suit also sports plenty of light green, light yellow and orange accents. And the opposing hair? Rose's is yellow with black bits and Juleka's is black with yellow bits.

I'll be deadass that I basically just straight up yoinked this outfit for Marinette from Zoe-oneesama's Scarlet Lady au Bubbler ep. That being said, I did change it up a little, like the dots on her dress top not being messy splotches rather than a polkadot pattern. Adding a little pink stitching to the vest, and including the flower pattern that Marinette has on her canon shirt onto her new shirt AND on her shoes. I also changed the necklace to make the heart pendant smaller, but then the fit felt too bottom heavy so I tried to even it out a little by putting pearls on the chain that got bigger the further back they went on her neck.

Now you already know their colors are inverted and where so I don't need to explain that. Though I will say that instead of Mari's hair being canonically black, just looking blue to the audience because it's easier to animate, in my au Marinette straight up just dies her hair blue. Everyone else that had the blue hair effect like Marc, Sabine, Kagami, etc, their hair will be just straight up black (with a blue sheen for Marc just bc). Marinette dying her hair will be similar to Marc's clothing switch; she's her scaredy cat self in the origins episodes, but then she sees how scared Beetle Bug also is on TV before he fights through the fear and it inspires her to do the same. The next day her hair is dyed and she finally takes her first stand against Chloe. Though you may have noticed her eyes are brown. Straight up, I just think she looks cuter with the dark eyes.

And as you can see above, she'll be getting the pig miraculous. 1) Because the colors I'll use are the perfect inverted colors of my Aspik design for Adrien (ironically I had picked the pig before I realized this) and 2) Part of Marinette's character in this au is that she helps brighten up Marc's school life, doing everything she can to try and help him make friends in spite of his anxiety. Her super name is Primrose.

And you know what? I'll put this here just for clarification that the whole Kim at the Pool incident does not exist in this au. It was a spiteful attempt to further assassinate Chloe's arc, make you feel bad for Marinette, justify her stalking, and it ruined Kim in the process. Meanwhile I had been planning out this au for a long time – back just before season 4 ended – I had already planned for a scenario similar to the Kim/Pool incident to be something that happened to Marc in the past. So no, this is not me taking Marinette's development and giving it to Marc or anything. This was me deleting it from Marinette bc it makes no sense for her and then my own idea I made before certain episodes had been released happened to match up in show later. It happens all the time within fanworks.

So the pig's powers will stay the same, as it represents Mari's role in Marc's life now and because it does essentially trap opponents in a trance. So it's perfect for distractions.

And I already gave a summed up rundown of Adrien's plot in the pt. 2 post. But what I will say while I'm on the topic, is that the canon plot that is going on about keeping the truth about Gabriel a secret from Adrien; I'm just gonna kinda slide that over to Nathaniel's mom...

...

...

Don't look at me like that.

Yes, unlike the bully/pool plot thread going to Marc because of coincidence, this is literally me just recycling Adrien's plot for Nathaniel. Because in this au Adrien starts off having already found out that he's a sentibeing and having his villain era, so there was really nothing else to take from the canon show for Adrien's plot here. He's still very present mind you, he'll have his own redemption as well, but it's nothing from the canon.

Listen, the plot going on in canon season 6 right now can genuinely be super interesting. It's just with the way this show built up to it, I can't bring myself to be invested. Not to mention I had already written my au to make it so that Gabriel never uses the butterfly miraculous, therefore he never goes batshit crazy and genuinely tries to be a better father for Adrien after he sees what Adrien was willing to do because he emotionally neglected him. I had done this because in early seasons, we had seen hints to the idea of Gabriel actually caring for Adrien only for that to be retconned until the very end when he died and finally seemed to care... I think. (This man's definition of love makes no fucking sense y'all).

However in my rewrite, I was already making Nate's mom a piece of shit with no redeeming qualities and I was just gonna leave it at that honestly. Because sometimes abusive-parent situations just aren't solved and people can do nothing but try to move on afterwards. But recently I was thinking over the au and what I may need to edit/change and I suddenly just had the thought of like... Maybe I could make it work. Because I like to challenge myself in my rewrites by trying to recycle everything. Nate's mom wouldn't manage to make the wish, fuck that noise 'cause she'd trade Nate for her husband without hesitation. But the idea of Nathaniel's mom being a villain and defeated (she had to be killed to be stopped) but then Marc – who has already been also dealing with a ton of other stresses I won't bring up here – doesn't know how to break it to Nate that he killed his mom and doesn't know how horrible of a parent she was. So he lies that she sacrificed herself to stop the big bad. Which would do nothing but shatter Nate's brain because "wtf do you mean? Since WHEN would she care?!!"

Just that tension you'd feel. The weight of the lie hovering while Nathaniel starts reimagining his mom in a better light for her sacrifice, only to eventually find out he had been bamboozled? It would be like losing another parent all over again for him as well as another betrayal. This time from his mother as well as his partner. Bro would full on. Crash. Out. Deservedly so. Low-key that would straight up break Nate's psyche, 'cause he already heavily blames himself for his dad's death. This plot just makes more sense here than what canon has offered this far imo.

That situation really is juicy as hell and as a writer/artist, I know that you need to make the most compelling story beats connected to your main character(s). Which in this au, is Marc and Nathaniel.

But idk, let me know what you think on this idea, I could just completely drop it for what I was doing before if y'all feel like it's too much recycling between characters. I would genuinely love the feedback, I'm always second questioning myself with these things.

Exhale 💨

Well on to our last design I GUESS 😅🤣

And Alix being the easiest to make color-wise because she's not being paired with anyone. Go my Aro Queen 😚 Her look might just be my favorite out of the bunch, she just looks badass. I did get the fit design from THIS Pinterest pic but the colors are all my choosing. I usually use a mix of Pinterest and Gacha life 2 for the character designing process. Which, funnily enough, when making the fit on gacha I had used a few different things to make the shoes sport all the colors in a way to connect the color pallet across the board. Only to realize like a week ago that I basically just straight up gave her her canon shoes 🥲 I mean if it works, it works and it helped me in designing the front of her hat to match. I like to think her shoes and hat are merch of a popular roller derby team and then she just switched out the black laces for pink. I can then imagine her recycling one of the black laces to use as her hair tie as well, she would totally do that.

And yes the backpack is just an Arcane/Jinx backpack recolored and drawn over, I just did not have the energy to trace and re-color in the backpack myself like I did for the others. Maybe later, I'll edit this post. But I do see Alix as being one to draw/color/spray paint all over backpack for fun.

In terms of her backstory, she is raised in a family of historians/egyptologists but she never gained the same love for it that her parents and brother did. Instead she was always more active and wanted to watch the sports channel more than the history channel. So because her family doesn't know how to further connect with her, they just kinda leave her to her own devices. They're not neglectful by any means, in fact her dad feels awful about how he can't really connect with her interests. But they all, Alix included, decided that they're fine just kind of doing their own things during most days and then just having dinner to talk about how each other's day went before bed. Staying connected in their own way while not annoying each other by trying to force a closer connection. Though Alix does go out of her way to stick to the louvre when she has nothing else to do or is doing homework, so she can read over the paintings and scriptures while skating around, so she can at least keep up with what her family talks about during dinner. (She and fam live right next to the louvre bc her dad is also curator.) Though even with them all understanding, that doesn't stop her teenage emotions from feeling just a little resentful about being stuck in a family where none of them understand her.

That being said, Alix is Nathaniel's childhood friend. Having met at the louvre when Nate went with his dad to see the pretty art. Always having his back and trying to get him to socialize again after his father's death. Making sure to cover for him whenever he "disappears."

To which I'll finally say this here to leave this post off with; that I do plan on changing up the whole "secret identity rules." Because Beetle Bug and Catico have no idea where their miraculous came from or anything, they had just decided to keep their ID's a secret from each other as well just to be safe until they learn more. (Note: my Master Fu is gonna be more competent but would've expected them to share their ID's. When he finds out, he decides that as long as they still have total trust in each other, it probably is the safer option for now.) Within the first or second season, the pressure of being a superhero on top of meeting new people would definitely get to Marc eventually and he would break the secret to Luka. Some time after (1-3 eps later) he talks to Catico about how he's revealed his ID but it was to his closest friend during a low moment. Talking it out, they decide to still keep it a secret from each other, but they're both allowed to intrust their identity to 1 in their civilian life. To make things fair and for better support outside the mask.

Hence Luka would know Beetle Bug's ID and Alix would know Catico's.

Now knowing Nate is a super hero, she ain't gonna lighten up into terms of athletic training. She used to go easy on him when they'd play wrestle and such growing up, because he was never as strong or active... Not anymore. He needs to stay vigilant for any scenario, she's going all in from now on because he needs it and it's funny when he fumbles. She'd be a lot like Toph with Aang in ATLA, Alix be a real G out here 😂

And that's pretty much it for now. Let me know what y'all think, I love comments 🥳 @634783

[kissandtellus]

Stolen Valor: Chapter 01

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ‘ꜱʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ’ ꜱᴜɴɢ ᴊɪɴᴡᴏᴏ’ꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴘᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ. ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʜɪꜱ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ, ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴛᴀʟ ᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ɢᴜɪʟᴅ Dungeon. ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ᴀᴍᴏᴜɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴄᴀɴ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱɪ-ᴡᴏᴏ.

Warnings: character that haunts the narrative, drunk shenanigans, shenanigans to fill the void, smut, drinking, doesn’t follow a specific timeline.

Y/n came stumbling towards her teammate's Jeep, barely able to open the door and definitely too drunk to climb in by herself. “Jinwoooo!” She howled the end of his name like a wolf. A stumbling, drunk wolf.

Jinwoo can feel the migraine coming on. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his black hair as he turns to face her. "Jesus Christ, Y/!. You're fucking wasted." But Jinwoo is ever a gentleman. He gets out of the driver's seat and lifts the woman into his passenger seat with ease.

“Thanks for picking me up!” She ends her sentence with a hiccup, her head falling back against the headrest.

Mumbles under his breath as he shuts the door, moving back around to the driver's side. "Yeah, no problem for me to put off my friends and family to come pick you up." He starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

Y/n huffs and leans back in the seat. There was a reason she was getting so drunk. Their last Dungeon raid ended with Y/n’s lover, Si-woo, getting essentially blown up before her very eyes.

She was drowning in her sorrows.

“Look, I know Si-woo’s death hit you hard. But getting shitfaced every night isn't going to bring him back." He pauses, letting out a sigh. Y/n’s head snaps to the side, her ears burning in anger.

"You need to deal with your shit, Y/n. Drowning yourself in alcohol isn't the answer. You know that better than anyone." He keeps his eyes on the road, but his voice is gentler. "You think Si-woo would want to see you like this?"

“Don’t. Don’t say his fucking name.” Her bottom lip trembled as she watched the passing street lights.

Jinwoo smirks slightly, shaking his head. "There she is. The actual Y/n, not the drunk idiot." He pulls into the Guild parking lot, turning off the car. "You know what your problem is when you're sober? You never fucking listen to anyone. You just do whatever the hell you want and expect everyone else to fall in line." He turns to face her, his expression serious. "It's annoying as hell, but it's also what makes you a good hunter."

Y/n looks at the massive building of the Ahjin Guild. “I thought I texted you to take me home. Are you going to kick my ass for having you pick me up?”

"And I thought you were too shit-faced to make coherent decisions? You need sleep, not your empty apartment reminding you of Si-Woo." He leans back in his seat, arms crossed. "Either way, I'm not hauling your drunk ass up to your place tonight."

Jinwoo opens his car door and climbs out, twirling his keys on his index finger. “You can sleep in the Common Room tonight. Or one of the other dorms should be open. Most of everyone else is out on a Dungeon Raid.” He tucks his hands in his pockets to stop the crisp chill of night.

“I want to be alone.” She stumbles after him. Curse her A-rank regenerative abilities for making her sober up so much faster.

Jinwoo ignores her for a second and she runs to catch up, snatching his wrist.“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. I watched him…I watched him die, Jinwoo.” Her sadness bubbled up again. “He…he looked at me like I was gonna save him and I froze…”

The flashbacks of the Raid from 4 months ago plagues her memories.

Jinwoo feels his tough exterior crack just an inch. He pulls her into a hug despite her initial resistance. "You didn't freeze, damn it. We all saw it. That thing moved too fucking fast. There was nothing you could have done." His voice is surprisingly gentle. "Stop blaming yourself."

Y/n clenches her hands at her sides before reaching up to hold him to her shaking form.

Jinwoo rests his chin on the top of her head. “He knew the risks. We all fucking do. It's part of the job, part of the Guild. You're no more responsible for Si-Woo’s death than I am."

He guides Y/n into the Giild building, pressing the level in the elevator for the common rooms. Y/n always felt like she didn’t belong here amoung the best of the best. But Jiwoon constantly reminded her how lucky he was to have her as part of his team.

Opening the door to the room, he walks inside and tosses a blanket and a worn t-shirt onto the bed from his emergency bag. "There's the bathroom if you wanna clean up. And no, before you ask, I'm not sleeping on the couch. We're both adults, we can handle sharing a bed without touching." He sighed, of course there was only one bedroom left. There was no way in hell he was leaving Y/n alone tonight.

“And here I thought you were a gentleman.” She snorts and shakes her head. She changes in the bathroom, she ties up her hair and cleans off her makeup as best as she can with the bare minimum provided. Jinwoo splits up his bag so he could wear the pants and she could wear his shirt. The fabric was oversized and hanging off one of her shoulders.

She stepped out of the bathroom and Jinwo was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. His eyes lift to Y/n and he suppresses his moan of approval at her appearance.

Jinwoo slips under the cover on the far side of the right. Y/n arches an eyebrow. “There a reason you are on that side?”

“I’m sleeping next to the door. Just in case.” Y/n rolled her eyes and crawled beside him. She lays beside him, the room still slightly spinning. She tries to stretch out her legs.

Y/n murmurs under her breath. “You are so damn big, there’s no room.”

His smirk widens into a soft chuckle at her muttered complaint, his broad shoulders shaking slightly with the motion. "Deal with it, short stuff.”

And deal with it she does, she drifts off to slumber with little complaint. But Y/n doesn’t sleep well anymore. Sometime in the night the two drift off to sleep. The nightmares return. The same one about Si-Woo’s death. She’s twitching in her sleep, her head jerking back and forth.

Jinwoo is a light sleeper, you have to be as a S-Rank. Around 3 AM, his sleep is disturbed by her troubled movements. Normally, he would curse and roll over, but something about her distressed sleep makes him wake fully. He props himself up on one elbow, watching her face. "Fuck..." he mutters softly.

Jinwoo watches her for a moment longer, seeing the tears leak from the corners of her eyes even in sleep. His expression softens, and he sighs. "Y/n..." He shakes her by the shoulder, trying to wake her from the nightmare. "Hey, come on. Wake up."

Y/n jolts awake gasping as if she had just been pulled from water. She jerks straight up and clutches at the front of her shirt. Her eyes dart around the room like a scared animal.

“Easy, hey, easy..." Jinwoo sits up beside her, making sure to keep a respectful distance but ready to catch her if she falls back. "It was just a dream, you're awake now." His voice is gentle, unlike his usual monotone. "You're shaking..."

Y/n’s gasps turn to sobs and she brings her knees up to her chest. Her body is rocking as her face is pressed into her folded legs.

Without a second thought, he scoots closer and wraps his arms around her hunched form, pulling her into his broad chest. "Fuck, come here...it's okay, it was just a dream. You're safe."

Y/n looks up at him and for a second, her eyes catch his lips. She’s so vulnerable, so desperate for something that isn’t just a bad dream or Si-Woo’s death.

Jinwoo’s eyes drop to her mouth. He sees the vulnerability, the need. It reflects something inside of him, something dark and hungry. Without warning, he captures her mouth with his own. He deepens the kiss before she can react, tasting her tears and quiet sobs.

He breaks the kiss abruptly, his chest heaving as he stares at her shocked face. He swallows hard, his hands still gripping her arms. "Fuck, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have-" Before he can finish apologizing, she cuts him off by pulling him back into another kiss.

Jinwoo pulls her onto his lap, his large hands tangling in her hair as he kisses her deeply. The S-Rank can feel her heart racing against his chest, matching the pounding of his own. He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down to her jaw, then back up to capture her mouth again.

“Please Jinwoo…I need you. Just for tonight…” her mouth trails down his throat and her ankles lock against his lower back.

Jinwoo should stop. He should call her drunk and leave immediately. But he doesn’t, he would never leave a Teammate in need. His oversized shirt she’s wearing gets pulled up over her head in a split second. Jiwoon takes in the expanse of her skin, calloused fingertips dancing over her flesh.

His mind flashes to Si-Woon. The brunette man had the biggest smile that rivaled Jin-Ho’s. He couldn’t sit here and fuck his friends grieving lover. Right?

Y/n is usually a modest person but right now, she wants to just forget about the death of her lover, even for a few minutes. “You’re clean right? Condoms?” She whispers against his lips as she reaches down to pull down his sweatpants. His erection is bouncing in his pants even through his boxers.

“I..I don’t really need condoms. I can create a small force field to-“

“Stupid S-Rank.” She growls, tired of hearing about it. Their next kiss is rough, sloppy.

Y/n’s eyes bulge at the sight of his straining cock. She swallows the lump in her throat and looks back up at him. “Jesus, do those skill points you get make your cock big too. Because holy fuck Kid.” Her mouth nearly waters at the sight of his curved length.

He can't help but smirk at her shocked expression. "Yeah, apparently having extra stats affects more than just my fighting abilities," he says in a low voice. "You still want it?"

Y/n nods eagerly and he presses her thighs apart.

Y/n squeals and presses a hand to his chest. “Don’t you dare put that in me without preparing me first! Do you want to explain to our teammates why I can’t walk straight?”

He chuckles, his fingers digging into her hips. "Fine, spoilsport," He mutters, his other hand slowly sliding down between her thighs. He finds her center and starts rubbing slow circles, trying to prepare her. "Better?"

Her calloused fingers circle her clit. Y/n mewls like a kitten from the simple touch alone. She of course had seen the mighty Sung Jinwoo in action. Watching him train, Y/n imagined how he’d feel above her, those muscled arms wrapped around her waist while he-.

His middle finger presses inside of her fluttering hole and Y/n shivers from the penetration. She arches into his touch, her mouth falling open in a soft gasp. He takes the opportunity to lean down and capture her mouth again, kissing her deeply as he slides a finger inside her. She's tight, really tight. He adds a second finger, stretching her out slowly. "You okay?"

He starts moving his fingers in and out, curling them to hit that spot inside her. He breaks the kiss to trail open-mouthed bites down her neck, sucking and biting gently as he prepares her. "You're so fucking tight... no wonder you're complaining about my size.”

Y/n doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want to admit that her first time was with Si-Hoon. That the man who died infront of them was not only her best friend but her first love.

He senses her hesitation and pauses, looking into her eyes. He sees a flicker of something deeper, something painful. He doesn't push but instead asks softly, "Y/n, have you done this before?" His fingers gently stroke her inner walls, but he keeps his movements slow and careful. A second finger slides in and he’s hooking his fingers against that delicate spot inside.

She bites her lip, glancing away briefly before meeting his gaze again. A faint blush creeps across her face as she nods almost imperceptibly. "Once. A long time ago. With..." She swallows hard, her voice cracking slightly. "With Si-Hoon."

His expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes. He remembers Si-Hoon, and he knows how much Y/n cared for him. He gently withdraws his fingers, causing her to let out a small whimper of protest. He leans down to kiss her softly on the forehead.

"Shh, it's okay," He murmurs against her skin, his hands moving to gently cup her face. "I get it now. You're not just using me to forget your pain, are you?" His thumb brushes over her cheekbone softly. "You're trying to replace memories."

He searches her eyes, seeing the unshed tears and the desperate need to feel something other than grief. He makes a decision, his voice gentle but firm. "Listen to me, Y/n. I'm not Sunhoon. And you're not going to replace him with me."

He leans in closer, his breath whispering against her lips. "But right now, at this moment, I'm here for you. I'll be what you need me to be. A distraction, a comfort, a release. And maybe, just maybe, we can make some new memories together."

Y/n captures his lips again and hooks a leg around his hips. He's strong everywhere. She can’t explain how high strung he feels under her finger tips. “Just…be easy at first okay?”

He nods, his hands moving to grip her hips gently as he positions himself at her entrance. "I will," He promises, slowly pressing forward. He's big, and he knows it. He takes his time, letting her adjust to his size inch by inch. "Fuck..."

He grits his teeth, trying to hold back as she stretches around him. She's so warm and tight, it's overwhelming. He leans down to kiss her neck, trying to distract himself from the feeling of her wrapped around him. "Fuck pretty girl…you okay?" He asks softly, pausing to let her breathe.

Keya’s eyes roll back as he bottoms out. It just keeps going and going and going. “F-Fuck Jinwoo…”

His jaw tightens, trying not to move yet. He's deeper inside her than anyone has probably ever been. He's long, almost absurdly so. "Damn, woman," He mutters softly, "No wonder you asked for easy. I'm touching your womb."

He starts to slowly withdraw, then pushes back in carefully, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. But he sees only pleasure, her mouth slightly open, eyes half-lidded. "You're taking me so fucking perfectly..." His voice comes out thick with desire. "How does it feel?"

He continues his slow, deep thrusts, his hips rolling against hers. Each movement is calculated to hit that spot inside her that makes her see stars. He leans down to capture her mouth, swallowing her moans as he picks up the pace slightly. "Answer me, Y/n.”

“F-feels so fucking good. Oh God, oh god are you kidding me?!” She lifts herself on her elbows to look at her stomach. Under the flesh around her pelvis, her lower tummy protrudes just slightly after each of his thrust.

Jinwoo looks down, watching his thick length disappear inside her with each thrust. The sight of her stomach bulging out slightly is incredibly erotic. He reaches down to gently press on her belly, feeling his movements from the inside. "Fuck, look at that..." His voice is hoarse.

“D-don’t do that, it's so weird!” She moans, yelping when his fingers trace the bulge of his cock inside of her.

He pulls out almost all the way, then slams back hard. He watches her body closely. He does it again. Then again. Her breasts bounce with each thrust. He watches her belly push out slightly again. He loves the high he gets while fucking her. How she’s at his mercy but he’s burn the world down for her if she asked.

The dark haired Hunter suddenly grabs her thighs and lifts them up, folding her almost in half. This angle hits even deeper, making her scream. "Take it angel... you take my fucking cock so good..."

Y/n can’t imagine he’s done this with a normal girl. Any non-hunter he’d probably split with his cock. “Tell me you love me. Even if it’s fake, I need-“ Y/n needs to hear it, needs to hear it like Si-Hoon himself is saying it to her.

His face contorts with pleasure and something almost like tenderness. He leans down, his voice a low growl against her ear. "I love you, Y/n... I fucking love you so much." He punctuates each word with a deep, hard thrust.

He knows that he shouldn’t be living in the shadow of her lover but he can’t help it. She feels so fucking good, so tight around him. Feeling the emotional crack in her armor, he drives into her harder, his cock pulsing inside her. He doesn't just say the words, he makes love to her with a fierceness that screams truth, even if it's pretend. "Fuck, I love you..."

He feels her tighten around him, her body tensing as she gets closer. He knows she needs this, needs to hear it over and over. So he gives it to her, his voice rough with emotion and pleasure. "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

Jinwoo reaches between her thighs to play with her clit. She’s nearly drooling now and her back bows. “Oh I’m coming! I’m fucking-OH FUCK!” She squirts around his length, her juices coating his cock and lower abs.

He groans loudly when she squirts, the feeling of her hot liquid coating his length and belly incredible. He keeps playing with her clit, not stopping until he feels her body go limp with pleasure. "Come on baby, give it all to me... I want every last drop." He demands.

Jinwoo keeps thrusting smoothly through her orgasm, hitting that spot that makes her shake uncontrollably. Her liquid coats them both, his abs are slick and wet. The sight of his cock disappearing into her is obscene, but he can't look away. "Such a good girl..."

His hands grab her hips in a near bruising grip. Her body shakes as he splits her with his cock. He summons the thinnest married around the length of his cock. He won’t cum in her. The last thing switcher of them needs is a child.

“Look at me, Y/n. Let me see those pretty eyes-oh there’s my girl. My good fucking-“

“Si-Hoon…” she murmurs the name of the man who died, her eyes hazy. Jinwoo can’t stop the onslaught of cum that empties from his balls. She’s so beautiful beneath him. Even if she’s thinking of another man.

He shakily pulls out and stumbles to the bathroom to clean himself without another word. When he returns, Y/n has drifted in a dreamless sleep. He tucks her in, brushing her hair away from her face.

He hesitates, wondering if he should say more, if he should confront her about Si-Hoon’s memory always being present, even in their most intimate moments. But something stops him, some instinct telling him that now is not the time. "Sleep now..."

[xstatic-12235]

Hey! Real big fan of your stuff :)

If you had the power to- What would you change about the third movie of httyd??

First of all thank you so much!!

For the third movie? Everything.

I don't think there is a single thing I like about the third HTTYD movie (Aside from the Deathgrippers ofc, they're perfect <33)

Scrap the lightfury, I don't like her. She was made just to be feminine and that pisses me off. Her invisibility, while kinda cool, just doesn't really sit right with me. Especially since it was supposed to make her unique and then they gave Toothless the same ability two seconds later. Which leads me into my second point.

"The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself" WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE LITERAL. GIVING TOOTHLESS SKRILL POWERS AND INVISIBILTY MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE. WHY DID YOU EVEN BOTHER GIVING IT TO THE LIGHTFURY IF HE WAS ALSO GOING TO HAVE IT. FLASHY ABILITIES MAKE NO SENSE FOR A STEALTH DRAGON.

Adding on to this, Toothless should not be acting like a horny dog. He should have been a graceful, cat dragon and not what he was. Also him practically abandoning Hiccup for the Lightfury???? She tried to kill Hiccup--Toothless's BEST FRIEND--multiple times and he did nothing????

Why did Toothless become the king of the hidden world right away??? Why would he even be fit for king?

Speaking of the Hidden World, kick that out the window. It makes literally no sense. No fresh water, no food, and the habitat is NOT SUITED FOR ALL DRAGONS.

Sending to the dragons was STUPID. HICCUP. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING. Not only sending them away betray the whole message of the previous two movies, that you have to fight for what you think is right, But it also gathers all the dragons in one place, with no food, water, or natural.

None of the villains were compelling at all, the Warlords were just meh, and Grimmel? Oh boy do I have something to say about him.

The ENTIRE aspect of his character is stupid. While I can get behind a nightfury hunter, you're telling me that STRINGBEAN killed ALL of the nightfuries? Not buying it. Not only were all of his facts wrong, but there's no feasible way one person killed off an entire species of dragon. There is absolutely no way he could ever cover that much area or kill that many nightfuries, even with the help of the Deathgrippers.

Ahh, the Deathgrippers. My babies, my big murder puppies. They are perfect and deserved so much better. They didn't even get to live at the end of the film. What happened to "Good dragons under the control of bad people do bad things."???? NAH, JUST STRIKE THEM OUTTA THE SKY ITS FINE. HE DIDNT EVEN TRY TO SAVE THEM.

The only bad thing I will say about them isn't even about them, it's about their venom. It was inconsistent at best and random at worst. It changed based on what the plot needed it to, and yes, the could be chocked up to it having different effects based on what it's mixed with, but Grimmel didn't even label them. It was just a random draw. Imagine him trying to knock out the Lightfury and just killing her because he didn't realize that was the really poisonous dart. The random effects makes literally no sense.

Moving onto my next point, the characters. Oh boy, the characters. Everyone was out of character from HTTYD 1/RoB/DoB/RTTE/HTTYD 2

Snotlout, my guy. Why the FUCK would you say "Who died and made you chief?"???? BROTHER YOU WERE AT STOICK'S FUNERAL. YOU CRIED, YOU MOURNED. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. NOT ONLY THAT, YOU STARTED GOING AFTER HICCUP'S MOTHER. DUDE.And Tuffnut. You would never leave Ruffnut behind. And as stated in the shows AND movies, YOU RIDE A TWO HEADED DRAGON. YOU CAN'T FLY WITHOUT A RIDER ON EACH HEAD. And you, Ruffnut. You would never lead all of the hunters/trappers right to Hiccup and all of Berk because you 'never look back'. BITCH WHAT. WHAT. Fishlegs and Eret served literally no purpose other than comedic reliefs, and the movie would be the exact same without them.

And what happened to all the riders working together??? We literally see them raid multiple places in RTTE and HTTYD 2. Heck they tricked VIGGO during Last Dragon Auction and that takes working together.

The ableism oh the ableism. What do you mean "I have a parasitic twin and you don't see me limping around about it." BROTHER HE LOST THAT LEG IN THE BATTLE WITH THE RED DEATH. PROTECTING THE ENTIRETY OF BERK FROM LITERAL DEATH.

Speaking of Berk, Hiccup would never endanger the entirety of Berk with overcrowding and bad infrastructure. Why were there so many dragons. Why didn't you expand to the rest of the island. Why didn't you rehome the dragons to different islands. Why did one dragon bumping into a tower cause so much destruction. There are so many things wrong with it.

Changing the subject back to Grimmel, it is insane that they let him win in the end. Even though he died, he won. Toothless is confirmed to be the last nightfury, and Hiccup made the dragons leave. He accomplished BOTH of his goals, kill all the nightfuries, and for dragons to not live with humans.

And back on Hiccup sending the dragons to a death pit in the middle of nowhere. There will always be bad people. Always. It's the curse of humanity and by sending the dragons you have not only gone back on the entire message of all the previous shows and films but you have doomed all of the dragons and shoehorned in an ending that doesn't fit the series.

Anyways all this will be fixed in my rewrite and thank you for listening to my rant about THW, I hope you have a nice day/night!

TLDR; THW was awful and pretty much everything needs to be changed, deathgrippers are amazing tho and are perfect as is

[tojiizm]

PARTY 4 U

k. nanami || angst. no comfort. fem! reader character death. spoilers for s2 jjk. i think thats it.

an: lowkey cried making this. this was inspired by party 4 u by charli xcx. the song makes me want to die. also sorry if there’s mistakes, its almost 3. k love u.

—

you hum to yourself, the house empty and quiet. you’re standing at the kitchen counter, decorating your husband, kento’s, birthday cake. there was a small smile on your face as you couldn’t wait for his reaction. you were also dressed up nice for him, just a simple t-shirt with a cardigan and some shorts. it wasn’t much but you knew he wouldn’t mind. he never did. he loved when you wore something simple. he believed that you were beautiful no matter what you were wearing or what you looked like. you could wake up with the craziest bed head and he would still think you were the most gorgeous girl in the world. he loved you. kento really cared for you and loved you, and he would show it through his actions. whether it be taking you out at random nights or just doing simple things like helping you with stuff. it was actually what made you fall in love with him. he was always so attentive and loving to you and you only. you loved him and you still do.

you shake your head to get out of your thoughts, a small smile on your face as you reminisce about your husband. the cake was done and it was almost time for your husband to get home. you sat yourself at the kitchen table, the cake in the center of it.

20 minutes go by; well, okay.. he could be running a bit late.

40 minutes; you start to get worried but you know he would call you if something were to happen, right?

almost an hour goes by and he doesn’t show up. your eyebrows furrow as you scroll through your contacts to call him. you press the call button on his name, fingers nervously tapping against the surface of the table.

it rings and rings until it goes to voicemail.

huh, weird. he usually answ-

oh. right. you forgot.

he’s not here anymore.

you end the call, hand gripping your phone tightly. your bottom lip trembles, hot tears rolling down your face and ruining the makeup you put on. your heart hurts, like you could physically feel it breaking. you sob uncontrollably, sniffles and hiccups filling the quiet room. you eventually tire yourself out, falling asleep with your head on the table.

you wake up hours later, eyes swollen red and mouth dry. you pull your phone out of your pocket. 2:14 am. you hum, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it down. you can feel the tiredness in your body as you walk towards your bedroom. the feeling of being in here almost suffocates you and you can feel your heart clenching, it hurts. you slowly walk towards kento’s side of the room, pulling out one of his t-shirts. you removed your own, putting his on and you can immediately smell his scent. it makes your knees weak, your hand darting out the dresser to ground yourself. you strip out of your shorts before making your way to his side of the bed. you carefully lie down, your blanket engulfing you in warmth. his pillow still had his scent. everything still smells like him. you close your eyes and attempt to go to sleep but it doesn’t come to you. your heart hurts, everything hurts. you just want him back, you need him back. the thought makes you cry, tears dropping onto the pillow beside you. again, you cry yourself to sleep, little hiccups coming from you every now and again. you can’t accept that he’s really gone forever… and you probably never will.

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem! reader

master list

the conversation of the century finally happens, grab your tissues.

**edited to add as a content warning— the major character death I talked about in chapter 12— happens within this chapter, if we remember, Tooty experienced heavy trauma to her abdomen……… this story has never and will never be a pregnancy fix all trope. — sorry it wasn’t labeled correctly the first time. **

no minors 🔞, talk of trauma, another traumatic event, miscarriage

a/n: this is a shorter chapter the next one will be longer and not out as soon. Thank you again to @sweetsweetjellybean for beta reading for me and helped me tweak this chapter @blueywrites who helped me months ago come up with this plot. And @jo-harrington who helped also. This story would be nothing without all the people liking and reblogging it— so T H A N K Y O U for continuing to read it even when it got dark, when weeks went by and there wasn’t an update in sight, I appreciate each and every single one of you. Here’s to our two dumbasses, finally figuring it out 🥂

“Eddie.”

  Your throat was bruised and weak. The slow painful flick open of your swollen eyes have you paralyzed with doubt. 

  Deceiving sight of a beaten man sitting in front of you with a hard cast covering his right hand, the fingers are deeply swollen and bruised, the nails tinged with dried blood.

  This wasn’t a version of Eddie you had seen before.

  His normal pale skin is purpling and raised around his cheek and left eye. His top lip is split and agitatedly red against black stitches, probably from him picking at it. 

  He was handsome, even with his face twisting into relief and sorrow. Tears flow down the colorful sunset painting of healing and broken skin on Eddie’s face. He stands quickly, leaning over you carefully.

  Quivering, timid hands reach for your cheeks, realizing the cast would probably scratch or scrape you, he settles for one hand laid dainty on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin like a ghost.

  The dark pools of his eyes pull you in as his tears fall freely, and your heart begins to sew itself whole again. As his lips meet your hairline he whispers a cut off sob of his worries. Your tears flow with his. Merriment of grief and comfort as you cry into his shirt. Wishing you could live in this moment forever. 

  A dark wave full of emotions crash down on you  all at once. The joy of seeing Eddie mixing with shame and guilt over what he must have braved while defending you. Finally, confusion on what exactly had happened and how you both ended up here and alive? 

  “You’re here,” you choke, a tubing clustered hand strokes Eddie’s face, “I was so scared,” you mumble weakly, “I thought we were d—” your throat tightens on the word and won’t release it, lost on a sobbing gasp that is muffled into his shirt as he pulls you into him. 

  The soft cotton of his shirt envelops you in a calming light state, the same smoky essence of Eddie washes over you, settling your hiccuping cries. His hand is stroking your hair, careful around the stitches. And if you listened close you could hear his heart breaking. 

  Eddie would find a way to melt the galaxies for you if you asked, hearing you crumble about the thought of him being dead is almost too much for him to handle. 

  “You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he says, strongly, firm toned to get his point across in as few words as possible, no need to go into detail about how it was done, you and the baby were safe and that’s what mattered, “he’s gone.” 

  Gone? Did he get away? 

  “Wh—-” you try your best to make any sort of sense register and click in your brain, but it’s not connecting, “Eddie?” 

  He took a deep weighty breath, the final swing of the wooden bat playing behind his eyes like a film in class, he watched Chad’s lifeless body slump to the floor, the dirty and blood riddled nails wedged into his temple like a knife through soft butter. The horrified expression Mr. Derry gave as blood splattered on the walls, and coated Eddie’s face. 

  He lowered his head and shook the image from his mind, “I took care of it,” he whispered gravely, “he won’t be bothering you again.” 

  The muddied storm in his eyes thunders as you comprehend his words. Would you be afraid of him? The same hands that held you so tenderly were also capable of murdering a man who nearly took your life. The thought of you being terrified of him tingles his spine and makes his knees weak, he turns away from you before you can see him cry again.  

  Chad is dead. And you want to scream at yourself when you feel remorse. He was terrifying. A real life in the flesh monster. Quite literally tried to kill you. All he brought to you was pain. And he was dead at Eddie’s hand. The nightmare finally over.

  He tried to hide the distressed pain burrowed deep in his face. He was everything the town always said about him. Satanic. Future convict. White trash, just needed to stitch  ‘murderer’ to the long list of insults he’d worn his entire life, like a cloak to shield others away from him. 

  With your head held high you wipe the tears from your eyes and pull Eddie’s chin to face you, and you’re surprised when he jerks away slowly. 

  You forget the time spent away. Finding it easy to fall into sync with him again, your Eddie. Would he ever be yours again? He’s been left out in the cold, sick from the frigid heart you peacocked off to him, boundaries up and lies in your head. 

  He was the most important person in your life. And it was time you told him so. 

  “Look at me, Eddie,” you coax, trying to make your voice seem velvety instead of the scratchy crack of desperation you currently are pleading to him, “you saved my life.” 

  The brooding deepens and he presses his lips tight together before looking at you, guilt and shame riddle his features, “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, closing his eyes, “I’m so fucking sorry,” the tears fall freely down his face, and he wipes them away hastily with the back of his leather covered arm, “I should have been there.” 

  The words stab like a knife into your soul. Everything happened because of your actions, your apprehensive heart. Eddie almost got himself killed and in turn had to kill your abuser, yet he was the one apologizing for not being there. 

  “It’s my fault,” you say weakly, reaching up to brush a tear away from his wet eyelashes, “I’m the one that pushed you away, and then… I’m sorry Eddie…I couldn’t..” 

  He pulls you into him, his lips skirting your hair line, kissing sweetly and soft like butterfly wings. He shushes you, and whispers that everything will be okay, and in that moment you realize you didn’t have to stroll the pearly gates to be his. 

  His eyes drop slightly to the blanket cozied up around you, flitting over your stomach. When his eyes find yours again, there are fresh tears, and a sad smile. It takes a nano second for the realization to hit you like a ton of bricks in the chest. A gasp breeches your lungs and guilt forms in the shape of tears in your eyes.  

  He knows. 

  Regret is billowing from your body and you try to cover your eyes, terrified of Eddie’s reaction to not only you being pregnant with his baby, but keeping it from him for months. 

  Outside of telling Eddie to leave and trying to convince him that you didn’t love him—- this was the hardest thing you’d ever done. But you told yourself he wouldn’t want to be a part of you with a baby in the mix. A baby that would ruin plans and put a halt to dreams. He didn’t need to be tethered to you because of one night. 

  One single night that you had been lying to yourself about— trying to ease away the pain of loving Eddie and pushing him away for his own good. People had been distancing themselves from you your whole life.. you were guarded and as hard as it was to let the barrier fall around your heart, it was just as easy to put it back up, barricaded in yellow caution tape of lies. 

  Unworthy 

  Before you can drift into a full fledged spiral Eddie’s warm hands find your cheeks and tilt your head upwards to look at him. 

  “I’m here,” his eyes search yours, and they flood with the warmth of the sun behind the black storm, “I’m not going anywhere,Tooty.” 

  The drop of an aluminum can and spray of carbonated soda fills the room behind a loud shriek, making Eddie jump and stand up, instinctively placing his body around yours, his back covering you in a leather shield, and you grab his hand between your fingers, an instant comfort to your panic.

  “STEVE!” Robin screams, her hands fly to her face like that little punk Kevin McCallister in Home Alone, mouth hung open in shock.

  Steve enters the room with a fancy company cell phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. A package of Oreos in his hands, “No, Jack— I don’t care how long it takes just fucking f—“ his eyes go wide in disbelief, and he slams the presses a button to end the call when you smile weakly and wave your fingers between Eddie’s at him.

  The next half hour is full of tears and hugs, calls to the Wheeler’s and the rest of your friends, letting them know you were awake. 

  The nurses flood in like a gaggle of cadets. Checking monitors and adjusting tubing. Letting you have your moment with your friends, explaining you were still going to be weak and the doctor would be by in a while to go over things with you.  

  Steve hasn’t stopped crying since seeing your eyes opened, blowing his nose every few mins. Robin talks enough for everyone, your throat still rubbing raw whenever you tried to say anything so you work with nodding along when asked questions. Eddie is unusually quiet, sniffing loud every now and then, offering you ice chips the nurses brought to you, a plastic spoon to your lips.

  “So what hap—” Robin starts and Eddie immediately glares at her, shaking his head and a firm “no” falls from his lips, and nobody tries to bring it up again. 

  Eddie didn’t want you getting upset, he’d protect you for the rest of his life if that’s what it would take. Fuck, he’d even be happy to sit in jail for a life sentence for killing that mother fucker. Pride swelling his chest knowing Chad was dead at his hand. Finally making his mother proud for protecting someone when he couldn’t do the same for her… and now there was someone else to protect. A tiny little someone. 

  The days you had been sedated he was beside himself. When he wasn’t in your room holding your hand and humming songs to you, he would be down in the gift shop. Thumbing through baby books, familiarizing himself with the favorite nursery rhymes of Mother Goose. His fingers traced the lace on a pair of tiny little white socks. Blue plastic baby toys that he found were called a rattle and made a clunky noise when shook. 

  He looked out of place. Torn jeans and chains hanging from his waist amongst the delicate pastels of the baby section, but he didn’t care. He made himself a promise. That when this was fall said and done and you were healed—he  would move you all into a new house. Out of Hawkins, away from this shithole of despair that only held bad memories. 

  And he intended to keep his word. 

  “Umm, I know it’s a little soon to figure this all out— but none of us want you staying… there, Tooty,” Steve says, blowing his nose one more time, hands on his hips in his typical mother hen style, “we didn’t know when you would… but eh…Leighanne already has the spare bedroom set up for you… and you can stay as long as you want.” 

  You hadn’t even thought about the house. But the thought of possibly having to go back there had you trembling. The smell of your own blood dripping onto the carpet filled your nose, Chad’s maniacal laugh…

  “Later,” Eddie says, shutting the conversation down by clearing his throat, his eyebrows pulled in and he tries to hide his worry again by wiping his hand down his face. 

  You’re thankful when visiting hours are through, your body aches and the bruises lining your stomach are tender, each movement making sharp bolts of pain shoot all over. Everyone says their goodbyes, you squeeze Eddie’s hand, a panic set lightning strikes in your eyes. You didn’t want to be alone. Not now. Not anytime soon. 

  He doesn’t pause, doesn't recoil. He stands tall, squeezing your hand, his eyes finding yours, a silent comfort washing over you as he whispers so only you could hear, “I’m here, always.” 

  He needed you to know how serious he was taking this. You, the baby, everything. He wanted to be there for it all. 

  Small waves from your friends and powerful hugs with murmured conversations between Eddie and Steve, leaving them both nodding and agreeing on something out of earshot. 

  The room feels small without them there. The elephant in the room hovering over you and weighing heavy on your chest, bigger by the second and you can’t wait anymore.

  “Eddie?” you croak, barely audible, vocal cords rubbing raw trying to speak. 

  The tears are already brimming in his eyes, he looks up at the ceiling, his thumb rubbing small patterns on the back of your hand, “when?” 

  You remember the exact day and time you felt something off in your body. Tired and achy all the time you couldn’t catch believe the amount of hours you could sleep uninterrupted. 

  The same calendar that once held your schedule for you and Eddie also held when your period was supposed to begin, but since Nancy had crossed Eddie’s name off you hadn’t even thought about possibly being late. Flipping through the pages you realized you were 3 weeks late. And blamed it on the stress. When February came and you still hadn’t gotten your period, you made an appointment with the clinic, and on the black monitor the doctor pointed out the tiniest baby growing in your belly, almost eight weeks along. 

  “When what?” You answered feebly, throat aching with each word. 

  Taking a deep ragged breath, Eddie looks at you, concern shadowing his face, he looks haunted, and depleted, “when did you find out you were pregnant?” 

  “Last month,” you clear your throat and reach for the ice chips, but Eddie helps you spoon them into your mouth. The ice melting on your tongue, pooling slowly and sliding down your throat to ease the ache. 

  “Eddie, I—” tears fall as you look into the hurt man’s whiskey colored eyes, “I was scared to tell you.” 

  He's blinking back tears, dropping your hand to walk around the room, landing at the window and pretending to look at the sky, “Did you think I wouldn’t care?” 

  A long pause between you is more than enough of an answer for him, and he sniffs loudly, “I’m not my dad y’know?” His voice hurt and wavering the delivery , “If you thought for a second that I wouldn’t give a shit about you or the baby, you’re wrong.” 

  Words you never thought would be said flow so easily from him, and you’re embarrassed you ever doubted him, “We aren’t together, Eddie,” you explain, letting the tears free fall, “I didn’t want to hold you back.”  

  Eddie scoffs and pushes off from the window, pouring his heart into his words as he explains his hurt,  “hold me back? From what the band? Tooty, I’ve been trying to prove to you for months that all I’ve ever wanted was you,” he moves across the room, sitting next to your legs on the bed, reaching for your closed fist to thread his fingers with yours.

  “Every part sweetheart, the good and the bad. Don’t you see that?” 

  Of course you did, but it was never that easy. 

  “I just— ” you couldn’t find the words, even though he deserved them, it was too much,  “I can’t even say that…how could I tell you that I’m pregnant after what I did and how I treated you?” 

  That night with Eddie blurred in your mind. He was gentle and sweet, you had never experienced such passion in all your life. It was everything you could have hoped for and more, but your scared heart ruined it. 

  “I’m a bitch, Eddie. Look at what happened to you because of me!” yoj gesture to his bruised beautiful face, and the tears flow quick down your cheeks, “you deserve someone who doesn’t hurt you,” you mumble, tearing your eyes away from him and looking at the ceiling tiles. 

  “Goddamnit Tooty, you are possibly the most stubborn person, biggest pain in my ass… but I have cared about you since you were 14. And I have loved you since the minute you opened up that front door and yelled at me.”

  You both laugh through the tears and he brings your chin to face him, his dark brown eyes swim with the glitter of fallen happiness, and he quickly blinks, “let me take care of you, sweetheart, both of you.” 

  It could be that simple. He loved you and you loved him. It wasn’t rocket science or poor willed fate. This was two people who cared about each other enough to look past all the ugly shit the world had to offer and chose to stick together. The epiphany sewed your heart closed and locked it tight, a branded “EM” on the lock and Eddie held the key.

  You grab him with more force than either of you were expecting and collide your lips with his. Tears and stitches fill the gaps where your tongue danced the last time these lips touched yours. But it was somehow sweeter than any kiss before. 

  “I love you, Eddie Munson…” you breathe, “but I swear I will cut that hair of yours down to the scalp if you try to name this baby ‘Ronnie Dio’, or ‘dragon slayer 86’ or whatever the hell you used to call yourself in your demon club in high school.” 

  For the first time in days, Eddie belly laughs, and kisses each of your cheeks, “ohh princess, don’t tell me your still jealous because Eyeball wouldn’t let you join?” 

  You cross your arms in a pout and Eddie laughs again, “there she is, that’s my girl.” 

  Pushing him away with a playful shove he comes back and kisses you again, both of you smiling and giggling, two idiots in love. With a wince, you scoot over in the bed and make room for him to sit with you, adjusting the wires and tubing around you both you snuggle into him, placing his hand on your belly where you assume the baby to be. 

  He snuggled into your neck and sniffs quietly. Content. 

  “Promise me something?” you whisper as your fingers thread through his curls, he nods into you, kissing your neck sweetly and humming a yes. It’s a big ask, and you’re new to this feeling, “please don’t ever stop loving me.” 

  Eddie’s grin is warm on your cheek as he sits up, looking so far into your eyes your souls reach out and hold hands, “I couldn’t even if I wanted too, baby.” 

  A knock on the door interrupts the moment and you both turn to see a doctor in a long white coat, and green scrubs. His face is jolly and caring, an instant comfort.

  “Ah yes, the nurses told me you were awake,” he says with a big smile, “it was pretty touch and go for awhile there but you look good considering what happened, how are you feeling?” 

  “Sore,” you answer, “everywhere.” 

  “That’ll be expected with the hellish ordeal you went through. Mr. Munson here gave us a brief rundown on what happened, and your injuries coincide that statement. We will be helping you both set up counseling appointments, usually with instances such as these, there will be panic and trauma that will develop from it. I urge you both to take them seriously.” 

  Eddie nods and answers for you, “yes sir.” 

  “Good. Now this soreness, is it generally all over or more localized in one spot?” 

  “I mean my head and face feel pretty awful, but mainly it’s my stomach.” 

  A small look of panic settles on the doctors face but is quickly replaced with a gentle smile, “we will schedule from scans for later today to make sure everything is okay, if you don’t mind— while I’m here,” he says, removing his stethoscope from his neck, “I’ll have a little check, alright?” 

  Eddie moves from the bed and settles by your shoulder,  briefly pressing his lips to your hairline, his warm hand rubbing your arm slowly. 

  “Just routine,” the doctor says, lifting your hospital gown to the top of your stomach, pulling the blankets down to the stop of your knees, “nothing to worr—” his broad smile fades and Eddie lets out a loud gasp. 

  The inside of your thighs and the sheet beneath you are soaked in claret colored blood. You don’t have time to register what is happening before the doctor crosses the room and begins yelling orders through the phone, “this is Dr. Newby, prep OR 2 for a D&E…possible c-section, I’ll need everyone available.” He hangs up with a loud click and turns to address you and Eddie. 

  “What’s going on?!” Eddie demands, fear stricken eyes almost onyx in color, his fingers gripping yours tight. 

  “She needs to be prepped for surgery,” he answers Eddie curtly but still politely. 

  You balk, “Surgery?! Why?!” 

  The doctor looks into your eyes with a sympathetic expression, “you’re having a miscarriage.” 

——

[thisisxli]

𖣘Apricity𖣘

٭.・゜゜・*

٭.・゜゜・*

Rs: Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem!reader

Warnings:

major character death,

slight heavy angst,

slight spoilers!

summary: Sanemi doesn't allow himself to get close to you. When he lets his guard down just for a second, things turn out the opposite way he wants them to.

wc: 1.5k

edit: btw Sanemi doesn't get reincarnated, he just has a descendant that's super similar to him :)

If you enjoyed and liked this post, you can go to my page and check out my other works! MASTERLIST /

ABOUT ME

Sanemi literally blatantly ignores you when you become part of the now nine-filled Hashira.

He wasn't biased, no, he was far from it.

He just didn't like how you made his heart pound. He was sick of it. He didn't have time for any lovey-dovey shit. He realizes that too, would only hold him back; one would end up dead and the other heart-brokened. Although he promises himself he would never let his partner be killed, theoretically, he would never forgive himself if he ever got them killed.

He knew he was a goner when he found himself above you, pounding you into the sheets like there was no tomorrow.

He avoided you after that. Of course, he didn't want to hurt your feelings, he knows he did, but he also knew he had to. He couldn't get close. No way. So when you came up to ask him, he said,

"I don't want anything to do with you."

His words were like swords driving through your heart. But, you understood. So you walked away with a shattered heart, his own broken one missing the warmth of yours.

Of course, he couldn't avoid you forever. Far from that. But he couldn't be nice to you either. But you went into a mission with the damn maroon-head teenager he found so aggravating. He was worried cause he knew that kid brought bad luck. Honestly, he swears that kid brings nothing but chaos.

When he found you unconscious, carried by the kakushi, he immediately rushed to your side. He ignored the kakushis' protests when he scooped you in his arms, quickly going to Shinobu for you to recover. He was nervous because your injuries seemed pretty serious. When he had Shinobu nurse your injuries, he almost stayed by your side the entire time. Excluding the time where Shinobu changed you into brand new clothes. Technically.. He has seen you naked before. But it was inappropriate. And he wouldn't know what to do if Shinobu saw him stay. Before Kanae's death, Shinobu had rather.. a bad-temper and was also rather off-putting.

It took you two days to wake up; of course, with Sanemi sitting by your side. He flinched when he saw your eyes open, both of your faces holding surprise.

"Sanemi?"

His breath hitched, looking down at your lap. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," he mutters, thickly swallowing his saliva. "How.. are you doing?" He looks up at you again when he doesn't get a response, a shocked grunt escaping him when he sees tears pouring from your eyes.

"I.. I..."

Quick like it was on instinct, he pulls you into his arms, hugging your head against his chest. "I was so.. so useless! I could barely-" you hiccup, "barely help Mitsuri! I was so distracted on saving the villagers, I got caught so off-guard when it snatched me off my feet and-" Sanemi pulls you in for a kiss.

You whimper, tears still streaming down. Your hands clutch onto his haori, feverishly returning his kiss before he disconnects them.

"Don't ever say that about yourself. You did what you can and that's final. There's no what you didn't do or couldn't do. You saved people. And that's all that matters."

You sob almost uncontrollably on his chest, one of his hands petting your hair. "You're more than enough."

Sanemi grins when he spars with you, wooden swords making a 'clack' sound each time they connected. Everyone had their Hashira training, even the actual Hashiras.

You, Sanemi, Obanai, even Muichiro, would spar at night, leaving bruises on your skins. You and Sanemi especially sparred the most, wooden swords moving at such a fast speed, bodies moving across the pebble courtyard.

He knocked you off your feet with a swift motion of his leg before catching you with one arm. He smirked at you and you only gave back a fond smile.

Forget losing all the damn lover bullshit. He had you now and he wants you. He gives in to his selfish needs and has you. Making sure Obanai and Muichiro weren't looking, he kisses you. You kiss back, scrunching your fingers through his silver hair.

Boy, was he so wrong.

He should've kept his distance from you. To ignore you and weaken your spirit with insults.

He should've never met you at all.

You were standing there, coughing blood out from your mouth. You were fighting Muzan. Everyone was fighting Muzan. It just happened to be you.

You,

The one whose body was penetrated by his arm.

Your vision was hazy and you were breathing haggardly. God, he couldn't believe it.

Muzan quickly removes his arm from your body, your blood splattering across the floor. You fall to your knees, your breath becoming heavier, blood seeping more onto your uniform. Sanemi quickly swoops you up before Muzan could attack you, laying you down against a wall of a building.

"Y-you..." Sanemi sputtered, anger etched across his features. His brother, now you?!

You smile softly at him.

His angry expression quickly fades away. He panics, his hands roaming above your body, ghosting above your touch. He was scared, like if he was gonna touch you, you'd instantly die. Tears were already falling from his eyes, eyebrows furrowing together until his forehead hurt. He shut his eyes tightly, hanging his head low, hyperventilating, praying this was all but just a dream.

He imagined a normal life with his siblings, being closer to Genya more than ever. Then he would find you, be with you, marry you, have kids with you, and grow old with you. Why was that so hard to have?

A sob rips out from his throat, feeling your hand cup his cheek. He looks up at you as you look back at him with those same fond eyes.

"I love you, Sanemi. You were all I could've asked for."

When your hand falls from his cheek, he shrills. Instantly, he holds your body close to his for comfort, hugging you tightly as if you were gonna disintegrate like his little brother. His heart hurts. Hurts so bad. It was so much to bear.

He kisses your temple before looking at you one last time, going back into battle.

He takes in his last breath, his only last and ever thought being you.

Sanehiro takes his patrol on the sidewalk, whistling as he watches the wind blows against blossomed trees. He loved this time of year-

"Crap... I'm so sorry!"

Someone had bumped into his chest. It was a woman. He sees her bowing at him which he waved off, a vein popping out in his temple. "Hey- it's no worries. Just-" he pauses, his face falling when he sees you rise, your face coming into his view.

You nervously fiddle with your fingers, chuckling. "That's good, I hope I wasn't any trouble for you sir. Or!- or a distraction!" You grin at him. He quickly takes his cap off, bowing at her. She flinches in surprise, watching him silently. "You're no distraction to me at all, miss," he says, standing up straight. He runs a hand through his silver hair, smiling at you fondly. You stare at him, mouth open. You quickly shake your head, chuckling awkwardly.

"Would you.. ever wanna hang out some time?" He perked up at your suggestion before nodding. You both exchange numbers before bidding farewell.

Oddly enough, you found yourself with a prideful and rude white-haired man. Again.

[studioeisa]

the loser and lover both die at the end ꩜ yeonjun.

── .✦ 💌 inspired by adam silvera's they both die at the end, major character death, alternate universe: non-idol, [heavy] angst, grief/mourning, last day on earth, platonic relationships, slice of life, [possibly] unrequited love.

── .✦ 🚏 this is the last of my non-svt/skz fanfiction for now! first published on ao3... at a time where i was admittedly very obsessed with yeonjun's watermelon sugar x blow dance cover (lol). this is thematically heavy, so please look out for yourself. it's also my first ever kpop fic (whew!) and so my writing style isn't like this anymore, but it's a good time capsule of some sorts.

── .✦ 📟 wc: 12,000+

On the day that he’s supposed to die, Choi Yeonjun learns what it means to be alive.

Choi Yeonjun was in the locker room when he got the call.

It was cruel, really. Everything had been so perfect until then. The cold noodles he had for breakfast were divine. There wasn’t any traffic on the way to the dance studio. And it took him only three hours to film his dance cover of Watermelon Sugar, as opposed to his other routines that usually ate up his whole day.

He had ducked into the locker room to send the group chat a quick text about their dinner plans when his phone started ringing. It was an unregistered number, which Yeonjun wouldn’t usually have bothered to answer— but he was in such a good mood, and how could anything go wrong on a day like this? 

“Yeonjun speaking,” he chirped, using his free hand to sift through the mess of his locker. He was pretty sure he’d packed an extra pair of clothes somewhere. “Who’s this?” 

“Hello. I’m calling from Death-cast.”

A beat.

“Could you please confirm that you are Choi Yeonjun, born September 13, 1999?” the monotone voice on the other end of the line asked.

It wasn’t until later that Yeonjun would realize how standard the entire spiel was. He’d already mentioned his name on the get-go; this stranger was just calmly reading off a script as if it weren’t the worst call of Yeonjun’s life.

“Hello, Yeonjun? Are you there?” 

“Yes,” Yeonjun said quickly. Pulling away from his locker, he slumped down onto the nearest bench. “Yes, this is Choi Yeonjun.” 

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I regret to inform you that sometime in the next 24 hours, you will be meeting an untimely death.” The caller paused, as if to let the information sink in. 

“On behalf of Death-cast, we are sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest, okay?” 

“Okay,” Yeonjun responded dazedly. Then, more out of habit than anything, he weakly added, “Thank you.” 

The call cut without another word.

Yeonjun sat in his seat for what felt like an eternity, staring at his phone log. Three minutes. His entire conversation with the Death-cast had lasted only three minutes. 

This had happened to him before. He’d be having a Good Day, but then something small would come around and trip him up.

Maybe the master CD would refuse to play. Maybe Soobin nicked the kimbap he’d been saving. There was always something.

Beomgyu jokingly called them hiccups, and Yeonjun found himself waiting for them; holding his breath for whatever might take away his day’s joy.

The Death-cast call was today’s hiccup. The worst hiccup he’d ever gotten.

His phone pinged, snapping him out of his shell-shocked state. It was Soobin. 

do u still need a ride? 

Ping. Another text from Soobin. 

reply asap i wont hv time 2 make a uturn if u dont reply NOW 

Despite himself, Yeonjun chuckled. What did Soobin know about not having time?

As he keyed in his response, he contemplated skipping out on dinner. Maybe he could just disappear. No one would ever have to know he was dying, and they’d also never know when he died. 

I’ll meet you there, Yeonjun responded instead.

Ping. 

suit urself!!!! dnt b late yeonttomeok ~

The stupid nickname. Yeonjun grimaced at the sight of it. Then, his expression softened, because he realized that he couldn’t do it.

Yeonjun couldn’t run from Soobin or the rest of the boys. If he was going to spend his last day with anyone, he was going to do it with them. 

He left the dance studio half an hour later. He emptied out his locker first, then he walked around for a bit to take it all in. On his way out, he tacked a note on the studio’s student corkboard. 

It would take a few days for anyone to notice. The grieving custodian is the one who finds it; a neon orange Post-It, hiding in plain sight among a sea of reminders and ID pictures. 

Thank you, he’d written. For everything. -YJ. 09/16/21

“You should try some of my pizza,” Hueningkai said enthusiastically, shoving a slice onto everyone’s plates. “It’s to die for!”

Yeonjun choked on his drink. 

On Yeonjun’s right, Beomgyu burst into peals of laughter, mimicking Yeonjun’s hacking coughs. Soobin, on the left, was tapping Yeonjun’s back sympathetically— though also visibly holding back his own grin.

As Yeonjun tried to clear the blockage in his throat, he fleetingly thought that this was it. He was going to drop dead in the booth of an American fast food chain, right before he could even tell his friends that he was on borrowed time.

But then the cola went down, and Hueningkai’s incessant apologies started sounding louder than the fears in his head, and Yeonjun quietly thanked God that his cause of death was not as lame as he thought it’d be.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Yeonjun sighed, looking around the table. A sneer for Beomgyu. A smile of reassurance for Soobin and Hueningkai. And for Taehyun… 

There was an odd look on Taehyun’s face that knocked the wind out of Yeonjun. 

It was almost like Taehyun knew. How could he, though?

Yeonjun held the other boy’s gaze, the two of them staring each other down intently. 

“Earth to Yeonjun,” Beomgyu sing-songed, waving his hand in front of Yeonjun’s face.

Taehyun looked temporarily startled by the intrusion before his expression quickly shifted into something more pleasant. Despite both of them breaking into a smile, Yeonjun couldn’t help but still feel a bit unsettled. 

“You’re extra sunny today,” Yeonjun sarcastically told Beomgyu. The latter smiled cheekily and shrugged. 

“What can I say? I love the first Friday of each month,” the younger boy said. As he turned away from Yeonjun to shove some fries into his mouth, it occurred to Yeonjun that this would be their last first Friday.

The five of them had been close friends since 2019. It started off as a small group that enjoyed playing computer games with each other, but then Taehyun quit gaming to focus on his studies and Hueningkai decided he wanted to spend his money on collecting plush toys.

It was Soobin who insisted that they meet up even if it meant not going to internet cafes anymore. That unassuming evening marked the start of a two-year tradition of meeting up every first Friday of the month. 

They still met up outside of those Fridays, of course. Soobin and Yeonjun actually moved in to be roommates half a year ago, and Beomgyu liked to still play video games with Yeonjun every now and then.

But first Fridays were sacred. No one missed out on them, come storms or break-ups. Their Fridays were the glue that kept the five of them together. 

“Sorry. Give me a second.” 

It didn’t immediately register to Yeonjun that Taehyun had excused himself from the table. Only when Hueningkai made an offhand comment about Taehyun taking his time, only then did the feeling of dread settle at the pit of Yeonjun’s stomach. 

“I’ll check on him,” he volunteered immediately, hastily climbing over Soobin’s legs to get out of the suffocating booth.

As he speedily walked away, he could hear Beomgyu cracking a joke to the remaining two boys. Yeonjun missed out on the rest of the story as he ducked into the men’s bathroom.

The overwhelming stench of bile was the first thing that hit Yeonjun; instinctively, he covered his nose with his hand.

From a barely closed stall, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of someone retching. Trying his best not to gag, Yeonjun took a few tentative steps towards the source. 

From where he was standing, he could recognize Taehyun’s Adidas shoes. 

Yeonjun couldn’t come any closer. 

Taehyun, from inside the stall, finally stopped convulsing. A brief moment passed before he flushed and stumbled out. Head bent, Taehyun mumbled apologies before stopping in his tracks at the sight of Yeonjun. For the second time that night, the two carefully regarded each other. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Taehyun made an annoyed tsk sound. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned up at the older boy.

“You too, huh?” he asked quietly. 

To Yeonjun, it felt like the punch line to the world’s worst joke. 

They decided to tell the rest of the boys after footing the bill. 

It was unceremonious at best and merciless at worst, for Taehyun and Yeonjun to break the news outside Hueningkai’s favorite restaurant. And Beomgyu made it so easy, too, by kidding about it as they headed out.

“What are you two so nice for? Don’t tell me you’re dying,” he teased, and Taehyun and Yeonjun shared a look as if to say, Well, now that you’ve mentioned it… 

Even though they talked it over in the bathroom, actually telling the rest turned out to be quite hard. At first, Beomgyu thought they were messing with him; that they’d colluded the whole plot while they were both gone.

As he screeched at Taehyun and Yeonjun that it wasn’t funny, Yeonjun pulled out his phone to show off his last received call. Taehyun did the same. 

Beomgyu got dreadfully quiet after that.

Soobin, ever the soft one, burst into quiet tears. Hueningkai held on to him, looking as though he might pass out if he wasn’t clutching on to something. Taehyun approached the two and whispered words of comfort that Yeonjun caught only bits and pieces of. 

“Have each other… Accepted our fate… Be okay…” 

Lies, the eldest of them found himself thinking angrily. All lies. 

No longer able to handle it, Yeonjun stalked over to Beomgyu. The younger boy was crouched near the sidewalk corner with no discernible expression on his face. His silence spoke volumes to Yeonjun; it was comforting to share, so much that Yeonjun felt a bit disappointed when Beomgyu spoke up. 

“What now?” 

“What now?” Yeonjun repeated.

“Are you just gonna lay down and die?” Beomgyu asked brazenly. Momentarily floored by Beomgyu’s audacity, Yeonjun looked at him like it was his first time seeing him. 

It was a silly notion, honestly. They saw each other practically every day. Next to Soobin, Beomgyu was the one closest to him. Admittedly, though, Beomgyu was also the one who irritated him the most. 

But not today. 

“I’ve always loved how shameless you can be,” Yeonjun blurted out, the heat immediately rushing to his cheeks at the sudden confession. If Beomgyu was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he answered with a faint smirk. “Anyway, back to my question. What now? Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully?” 

“But it’s 8 PM,” Yeonjun said dumbly. Beomgyu promptly smacked him on the back of the head, making Yeonjun yell with indignation. 

“You’re dying and you’re thinking about curfew?” Beomgyu bellowed. “Do you understand just how stupid that sounds?”

“I swear, you’ll be the one that kills me,” Yeonjun grumbled, rubbing the spot Beomgyu hit. 

The younger boy barrelled on. “We don’t know how or when exactly you’re going to die. You and Tae can’t sit around and just wait. There’s so much that you can do in 24 hours!”

“Less than 24 hours.” 

“With all due respect, Junnie—I don’t give a fuck.” 

Yeonjun let out a disbelieving chuckle. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Beomgyu was right. It’d be a waste to spend his last day in fearful anticipation of the inevitable.

“Do you have a marker on you?” Yeonjun asked suddenly. 

Between the five of them, Beomgyu was the only one who was skilled at drawing. He sometimes carried the most random of art materials around with him and that night was no exception. “Just a blue one,” he said after sifting through his backpack. No questions asked, he passed it over to Yeonjun.

Looking around, Yeonjun zeroed in on the restaurant’s painted wall. It was in a pristine shade of white. Perfect. 

“Cover for me,” he commanded Beomgyu. The latter did as he was told, shielding Yeonjun from the street’s view. 

After a minute or two, Beomgyu was no longer able to contain his curiosity. “What are you doing?” he piped up, obviously trying to mask his interest. 

The impatience made Yeonjun laugh. 

“You can look now,” he said. 

Beomgyu turned to face Yeonjun.

On the restaurant’s shop front, Yeonjun had left yet another small thing to be remembered by. Along with a doodle of a pizza and a cola was a scrawled note, a note: YJ’s last supper. 09/16/21. 

If it had been any other day, Beomgyu might have commented on the abysmal state of Yeonjun’s drawings or the chicken scratch quality of his handwriting. That night, though, he wordlessly reached out for the marker.

Quickly, he sketched what seemed to be chibi versions of the two of them. 

“Always stealing my thunder,” Yeonjun jeered, though the taunt was softened significantly by the astonishment beneath his tone. Beomgyu’s rendition of them was uncanny. Finishing up, he wrote: Gyu was here too! 

Beomgyu looked up at Yeonjun, and Yeonjun smiled at him in response.

An iPhone note found in Choi Yeonjun’s phone, dated September 16, 2021. Last edited: 8:34 PM. 

☑ Commit vandalism 

☑ Have a good meal 

▢ Film and post a dance video

▢ Play Overwatch

▢ Go to a thrift shop and buy Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin better clothes

▢ Go on a date 

▢ Write my last will and testament 

▢ Say goodbye to mom and dad

▢ Take photos to leave for Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin

“You’re seriously going to waste time on Overwatch? On your last day ever?” Beomgyu complained.

Yeonjun angled his phone away from Beomgyu’s view. “It’s my bucket list. Not yours.” 

“Stop fighting,” Soobin said. His eyes were rimmed with red from his non-stop crying. It made Yeonjun’s heart ache. 

The three of them were in the back of a cab, heading to Yeonjun’s family home in Bundang. Though it was the last on his bucket list, it was the first thing he wanted off his chest.

He didn’t intend to tell his parents over the phone. He wasn’t even sure if he should even tell his parents at all. 

Half an hour ago, Taehyun and Yeonjun agreed to not wallow over their impending death. They had individual businesses that they first had to deal with but they made plans to meet up after so the five of them could be complete.

Hueningkai stuck with Taehyun while Beomgyu and Soobin decided to accompany Yeonjun. 

“I’m just saying, you could be spending your time a little wiser than losing to me and Soobin,” Beomgyu quipped. 

Sighing dramatically, Yeonjun removed the goal from his list. 

Before he could hit Beomgyu with another wisecrack, their ride came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, Soobin was strict on always wearing seatbelts; the safety device kept them from launching forward, though Beomgyu’s forehead did collide with the driver’s headrest. 

Beomgyu howled with pain as the driver profusely apologized. “A stray cat bolted in front of us as I was pulling in to park,” the driver explained. “I didn’t notice.” 

Yeonjun exhaled, one hand clutching his chest. 

The three of them slid out of the backseat and onto the Seongnam sidewalk. “You alright?” Soobin asked quietly as Beomgyu went to pay for the ride. 

The honest answer: Yeonjun was a little shaken.

Each step felt like there might be a minefield beneath his feet. He kept imagining a bunch of different scenarios on how it would happen, who would be there with him when it did. He didn’t want it to be any of the three boys, but they were insistent on keeping him and Taehyun company. 

No one seemed like they were ready to let go. 

Instead, what Yeonjun said: “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Beomgyu returned, another unreadable expression on his face. “The driver wouldn’t let me pay,” he reported, shaking his head. “He eavesdropped on us a bit, I think, because he—” A pause. 

The hard-to-read look suddenly became clear to Yeonjun. It was the same look of when Beomgyu polaroids came out all wrong, or when he miscalculated a toy’s position in a claw game. It was a mix of annoyance, and disappointment—and a little bit of sadness. 

“He what?” Soobin prompted.

Beomgyu looked directly at Yeonjun, opening and closing his mouth as though considering how to tell him. Finally, he choked out the rest of his sentence. 

“He sends his condolences.” 

“The worst thing that could ever happen to a parent is to have their child leave this Earth before them.”

Those were the only words that Yeonjun committed to memory. The conversation he had with his parents was not so much a conversation as much as it was groveling, sobbing, cursing.

There was anger. There was sadness. There was all the love they could offer each other. 

Though it broke his heart, Yeonjun begged his parents to let him go for the simple reason that he couldn’t bear the thought of passing away in their presence. He promised to call, if he could. He swore to have Beomgyu and Soobin at his side, at all times, to call them if he couldn’t. 

Then his father told him about the worst thing that could happen—how it was already happening—, and he hugged Yeonjun with a finality that didn’t need any spoken goodbye, and Yeonjun damn near reconsidered throwing it all away to spend his final hours with them.

Holding on to his pride, he hugged his father back. He gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. 

He asked that they both smile so his last image of them would be “not all that sad.”

And, just like that, the Chois let go of their only son. 

The cab ride back to Hueningkai and Taehyun was a solemn one. Yeonjun was thankful that neither Beomgyu nor Soobin felt the need to speak. They had waited outside Yeonjun’s home while he was saying his goodbyes to his parents, and they had let him take the window seat where he could stare listlessly out at the highway. This is the last time I’ll see this strip of road, Yeonjun numbly thought to himself. It was tiring to think in lasts. It was all he could seem to do as the minutes ticked by.

Ping. 

Hueningkai, whose Instagram account previously had zero photos, had just uploaded a photo of him posing with Taehyun. Lotte World all to ourselves!!!~ , the caption said.

“That’s new,” Beomgyu mumbled, looking at the post over Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“We saw each other practically every day for the past two years,” Soobin interjected, voice hollow. He was staring at Hueningkai’s post on his own phone. “Hyuka never saw the point in posting about us, because it wasn’t like we were going anywhere.”

The implication of Soobin’s words weighed heavy in the air. Now that two of us are dying, Hueningkai wants to capture whatever we have left.��

“I’m just glad to finally be Instagram official,” Beomgyu blurted out.

Both Soobin and Yeonjun shook their head, but Yeonjun was secretly glad to have an excuse to laugh. 

By the time they got to Lotte World, Hueningkai and Taehyun were already donning ridiculous animal headbands and sharing some honey butter chips.

“I got you guys headbands, too!” Hueningkai said. He pulled three out of his bag and proceeded to pass Beomgyu and Soobin theirs. Hueningkai asked Yeonjun to bend down so he could put it on himself.

“A fox?” Yeonjun asked, skeptically eyeing his reflection in a nearby shop mirror.

“Don’t you look like one?” Hueningkai shot back.

“How am I a bear?” Beomgyu whined, pinching the brown ears of his own headband.

Soobin quickly retorted, “Because you’re un-bear-able!”

It was a terrible pun but all the boys chuckled a bit nonetheless. Beomgyu yelled “Yah!”, reaching out to hit Soobin— who swiftly dodged, which meant Beomgyu’s slap landed on the small of Taehyun’s back. The chase that ensued had Soobin, Hueningkai, and Yeonjun doubling over in laughter.

“By the way,” Yeonjun mused out loud as they started strolling down the amusement park’s mostly empty avenues. “Why are we here after hours? Lotte World should be closed.”

Hueningkai’s face fell, and Yeonjun suddenly wished that he never asked.

“Lotte World is tied in with Death-cast,” Beomgyu answered instead. He and Taehyun had caught up to the rest, done with their chase. The latter looked a little out of breath; Yeonjun concernedly glanced over at him, to which Taehyun responded with a thumbs up and a gesture to keep listening to Beomgyu. “They allot their after-hours to people who might want to spend their last day here.”

Not wanting to dampen the mood any further, Yeonjun forced on a smirk. He threw an arm around Hueningkai’s shoulders and gave him a light shove forward

“Let’s make the most out of it then!” Yeonjun said resolutely. “Come on, Hyuka. We’ll go wherever you pick!”

That made Hueningkai light up like a Christmas tree. For the first time that night, Yeonjun felt like he’d done something right.

And go wherever Hueningkai picked they did. After around an hour or so, Soobin was already calling for something less exciting. “I don’t think my heart can take any more of this,” he cried dramatically.

“How about there?” Hueningkai said excitedly. Four pairs of eyes followed to see where he was pointing: A photobooth.

 “Perfect,” Yeonjun said. “I’ve been meaning to take some photos.”

 “Why don’t we go first, hyung?”

The other boys fell quiet when Taehyun addressed Yeonjun. Taehyun was smiling delicately, face flushed from the consecutive high-stakes rides. In one hand, he held a squirrel stuffed toy that Beomgyu had won him at a shooting game.

Taehyun looked so serene. So alive, Yeonjun thought in awe.

Yeonjun grinned back at his friend. “I’d like that.”

The two slid into the booth as Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin looked at costumes for themselves.

“This is part of my bucket list,” Yeonjun shared as he started loading the coins into its slot. “I wanted to give them photos of us, for them to remember.”

“That’s smart,” Taehyun responded. “We won’t have enough photos of each other to go by.”

Yeonjun swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look directly at Taehyun. Outside the booth, they could hear the sounds of Hueningkai and Soobin arguing over a plastic mustache.

If they tried really hard, they could pretend that it was just like any other day—and shouldn’t it be like that anyway, Yeonjun contemplated. He debated about asking Taehyun whether he thought this was for the best; knowing they’d pass within 24 hours.

As if sensing Yeonjun’s internal conflict, Taehyun reached out to push the last few coins into their slot. The photobooth roared to life, a woman’s voice welcoming them and instructing them on what to click next. Neither of the two tapped on anything on the screen.

But then Taehyun shrugged. “Come on,” he encouraged. “Let’s leave them with good-looking photos of us.”

Before the two could pose properly, though, Beomgyu burst through the curtains of the photo booth. “Cheese!” he screeched, throwing himself over Taehyun and Yeonjun’s legs.

“Hey!” Yeonjun protested, trying to shove Beomgyu off his lap. Meanwhile, Taehyun started giggling and making room for Beomgyu on the bench.

Click. Click. Click.

“Why must you ruin everything?” Yeonjun groaned as the photo strips printed out. In the first two photos, he and Taehyun looked fine; the remaining four were extremely chaotic with Beomgyu’s unexpected entrance.

“You look best here, don’t you think?” Beomgyu said innocently, pointing out the picture where Yeonjun was mid-yell. The older boy raised his hand as if to smack Beomgyu, who promptly ducked behind Hueningkai for protection.

“We can take more,” Taehyun assured. Despite his tousled hair and the beads of sweat trailing down his face, he shone brighter than he ever had. There was a reassuring smile on his face, one that had found comfort in an inevitable fate. 

When all is said and done, that is how Yeonjun chooses to remember Taehyun; the healthy, happy Taehyun of this moment.

Yeonjun doesn’t know that yet, of course. Not while it’s happening. “I want one with our baby Hyuka,” he announced, reaching out for the youngest of their group.

“I’ll get some with Soobin and Beomgyu then,” Taehyun responded.

They took photos with each other and of each other. Taehyun and Yeonjun eventually got their own photo strip without Beomgyu interrupting. The five of them had at least seven different sets together until they’d run through each prop the booth had to offer, and they’d played with every single filter available.

Hueningkai held on to the photo strips as if they were important documents. As they went out to grab some snacks at one of the nearby food stalls, Yeonjun followed Hueningkai wandering over to a corner.

“What are you doing?” Yeonjun asked.

The blonde boy had laid out all the photos and was attempting to take a picture of them. “Oh, I was making a post on my Instagram account,” he admitted, sounding a bit shy of the fact.

“I saw you posted for the first time earlier.”

“Yeah, I never had a reason to use my account before. I guess I just... want to document today. I don’t want to forget anything.”

The slight quiver in his voice damn near made Yeonjun cry. Reeling in his emotions, Yeonjun moved around some of the photo strips. “Here,” he said. “I think it looks better like that.”

Smiling appreciatively, Hueningkai snapped his picture.

“What should I caption it?”

They both paused, contemplating. 

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Hueningkai said excitedly, typing away at his phone. Yeonjun peered over his shoulder to check.

“‘Five forever,’” Yeonjun read out loud.

“Five forever,” Hueningkai repeated resolutely, looking straight at Yeonjun. “No matter what.”  

If he had a choice, Yeonjun would have gone out dancing. 

Dance was one of the few constants in his life. It was something Yeonjun whole-heartedly knew that he was good at. He meant to be an instructor, even, had the Death-cast call never happened.

His peers constantly joked that he was in the running to take over their studio’s director role. Guess they were wrong, Yeonjun bitterly thought to himself as he intently scrolled through his phone for a song. 

His final dance break song. 

The boys had set out after Lotte World to go clothes shopping when Yeonjun remembered one of the other to-dos on his list. Film and post a dance video. They took a detour to the nearest park and loitered a bit, and Yeonjun was reckoned with the most difficult decision of his dancing career. 

All this time, he refused to upload any clips of him dancing. Sure, there were some up on the Internet; group dances from the studio, an Instagram story here and there from his friends. But Yeonjun had never uploaded one himself— never quite ready for that kind of self-exposure. 

Now or never, he decided. 

“You did Watermelon Sugar earlier today, didn’t you?” Soobin asked as he curiously peered over Yeonjun’s shoulder to check the song options. “The remix with Blow. Why don’t you just redo that?” 

“I want to do something new. Something original,” Yeonjun responded distractedly. FEVER? Paper Hearts? “But all of these, I’ve already danced to.”

“What about one of ours?” Beomgyu offered, yawning and stretching absentmindedly. 

Yeonjun stopped scrolling. 

Taehyun, from a bench away, let out a groan. “You know the demos we make aren’t serious,” he complained. “And don’t you have an ounce of shame, Gyu? Those songs were kind of—”

“Don’t you dare call them bad!” Beomgyu interrupted defensively. “Our songs could have made it big if you weren’t so keen on locking them up!”

“Upload it once I’m gone, then,” Taehyun deadpanned. “Call that shit posthumous.” 

As Beomgyu flinched and Hueningkai rained a few punches down Taehyun’s back, Yeonjun sped through their group chat to find the recording of their latest arrangement. They’d composed only around half of it, promising each other that they would continue the rest on their next first Friday. 

The rock instrumentals of their demo LOSER=LOVER struck up and echoed across the empty park. Soobin’s singing came out loud and clear through Yeonjun’s phone speakers.

“I’m a loser, I’m a loser,” Soobin crooned along with the audio. In the background, Taehyun covered his ears and Beomgyu perked up, ready to steal Yeonjun’s parts in the song. 

Had it been any other day, Yeonjun would have rolled his eyes at the younger boy, but his mind was busy putting together the pieces of a possible dance routine. Usually, it took him days to come up with one that he was content with. He didn’t have that much time tonight.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Yeonjun announced after one full listen of the unfinished track. He stood and positioned himself between the row of blooming dogwood trees, trying to shake out the lingering uneasiness.

“I can film you!” Hueningkai cried out excitedly, standing across Yeonjun as the latter did some light stretching. Yeonjun shot him an appreciative thumbs up. 

Inhale. They’d all seen him dance before; he could just never fully shake his nervousness. The others seemed to pick up on this, quickly giving Yeonjun small forms of affirmation.

Beomgyu let out encouraging hoots and chanted Yeonjun’s name. Taehyun finally lowered his hands from his ears, smiling assuredly in anticipation of the routine. And Soobin pulled out his own phone, finger poised expectantly over his record button. 

Exhale. 

Yeonjun hit play, and immediately found himself consumed by the music.

It was like second nature to him. Every agile step, every sharp turn. He followed along to the song as if it were something he’d practiced his whole life. Each beat reverberated to his very bone, filling his chest with so much joy he felt like a balloon that just might burst.

“Here comes the good stuff!” Beomgyu squealed as Taehyun started humming along. Love you, love you, love you; no matter what I do. 

“I say run, laugh like you’ve gone mad, ” Hueningkai belted out. Yeonjun almost missed a step because of how it distracted him, but he was glad to have small disturbances such as Beomgyu trying to mimic his dance moves or Taehyun finally screaming the lyrics out loud as well.

The post-chorus was his and Beomgyu’s part. It was the easiest choreography to think of, too. I’m a loser, his pre-recorded self sang, and the Yeonjun dancing threw up an L with his pointer finger and thumb. He broke out into a smile, feeling as if the world were spinning. 

It’s the sensation he’ll miss the most. The heat, the soreness. Even then, he knows that his body will ache most for the rush he had come to adore. 

The song ended abruptly, and Yeonjun snapped out of his trance.

The boys were all clapping and cheering. “I can’t believe you did all that in one go,” Taehyun complimented as Beomgyu and Hueningkai surged forward to envelope Yeonjun in a hug. 

“I’m sweaty!” the oldest boy complained laughingly, allowing them to embrace him nonetheless.

“I have the fan cam version!” Soobin joked, holding up his phone. “Where do you want it?” 

Grinning widely over Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s shoulders, Yeonjun told Soobin, “Everywhere.” 

If there was anything Beomgyu and Yeonjun so intimately shared, it would be their terrific sense of fashion— something the rest of the boys were so painfully ignorant about. 

So when Yeonjun had to choose someone to accompany him to the 24/7 Myeongdeong thrift shops— Taehyun complained that he was tired and wanted to go back to his dorm— the answer was as clear as day. Beomgyu and Yeonjun promised to regroup with them back at Taehyun’s within an hour.

It was a comforting shopping spree, actually. Beomgyu must have toned down his energy, only hitting Yeonjun with the occasional wisecrack compared to the typical several jokes per minute. Briefly, Yeonjun worried that he was being pitied. 

“This would look good on Hyuka,” Beomgyu commented, holding up a light gray sweatshirt for Yeonjun to see. The two were in their last store. They already had eco bags crammed to the brim with clothes, but they’d decided to do a final stop before heading home.

“I was thinking about this one for Soobin,” Yeonjun said in turn, showing off a black and yellow embroidered vest. 

“That one’s nice.”

“I think Hyuka would fit comfortably in that panel shirt over there, too.” 

After snagging a couple more overrun Ralph Lauren pieces and three pairs of specs for Soobin, the two fell in line for checkout. “I can’t believe we didn’t do this more often,” Beomgyu hummed, rustling through the picks. “Shopping with Soobin was so boring. He only ever wanted to go to the department store.”

“I gave up on Hyuka, too,” Yeonjun laughed. He was excited to see Hueningkai’s expression; a lot of the clothes they’d picked for him were sure to fit his style. “This should be enough to last them for a little while.”

“And then they’ll go back to their plain clothes?” 

“And then you’ll buy them more.” 

A long pause followed Yeonjun’s words.

Though he had packaged it as a joke, they both knew the underlying message lurking under the lighthearted tone. You’ll take care of them, right? Yeonjun was asking. 

Beomgyu pursed his lips together and nodded, answering the unspoken question. I will.

Yeonjun gave him an appreciative smile. I knew I could count on you. 

“What else do you have on your bucket list, anyway?” Beomgyu asked in an effort to change the topic. They shuffled forward awkwardly, the line in front of them moving along rather slow. 

“Just some serious stuff left, really,” Yeonjun replied vaguely. To write his last will and testament was still left unchecked. He wasn’t sure how or when he’d do it; sitting down and accepting his fate like that was a terrifying ordeal. “There is one that’s pretty tame, but I’m thinking of just crossing it out completely.” 

“Which?” 

“To go on a date.” Yeonjun laughed at the thought of it. It seemed so trivial now. 

He’d put it down because he hadn’t really had the time to go on a proper date. Though his mother tried setting him up with her neighbors’ daughters— and even though Soobin offered a double date every now and then— Yeonjun found that he was always too busy, too disinterested, too insecure.

A small part of him wished he’d said yes to at least one of them so he could have a memory at a cafe or a cinema. But he was so caught up in thinking that he had so much more time than he actually did, and he thought his first date would be something special— only to have it not happen at all. 

Nothing good comes to those who wait, he thought woefully. 

Beomgyu whipped out his phone and clicked on an app. Leaning over to peek, Yeonjun saw that it was for dating. He knew that Beomgyu and Soobin had profiles. He just couldn’t be bothered to get one, too. Putting himself out there like that felt scary. 

“This is a great way to find a date, even if you’re in a bit of a clutch,” Beomgyu chirped. “I’ve used it before when I needed someone to go with me to a wedding or a school fair.” 

“That’s smart.” 

“I know right? Anyway— we’re not here to talk about the obvious.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, but Beomgyu barreled on. “Let’s make you a profile.” 

“I don’t know…” Yeonjun started hesitantly. Beomgyu was quick to interject. 

“What are you scared of?” he challenged. “What do you have to lose, really?” 

Yesterday, Yeonjun might have answered his dignity or his pride. In the thrift shop, though, he begrudgingly had to admit that Beomgyu was right. He had nothing to lose. 

“Sign me up,” Yeonjun conceded, and Beomgyu broke out into a proud grin. 

After arguing over which photos of Yeonjun to choose, Beomgyu typed out a prospective bio to go on his profile. Urgent: Dying boy seeking a mind-blowing date that will let him go out with a bang. 

“You make it sound so dirty,” Yeonjun groaned, grabbing the phone from Beomgyu and deleting the entire text.

As the latter protested, Yeonjun tried his hand at a bio. Less than 24 hours left and looking for love. Be my baby before burying me six feet under? 

“How pessimistic!” Beomgyu cried disapprovingly, though both of them were shaking with laughter. For a short while, they took turns writing terrible descriptions.

Beomgyu typed out Let’s kill this love, to which Yeonjun added ‘Till (my) death do we part.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Beomgyu concluded as he gasped for air. “Come on, we’re not even in the actual app yet.”

The next screen asked for Yeonjun’s dating preference.

Beomgyu tapped on the ‘Women’ button, showing it to Yeonjun for approval.

Riding on their shared joy and his newfound confidence, Yeonjun mindlessly blurted out, “Can you actually choose ‘Both’?”

In our life, we often experience “oh” moments. Modest points in time where so many things can shift in a split second. For both Beomgyu and Yeonjun— in that thrift shop line, with their sore arms carrying more clothes that either of them could ever need— that was one of those junctures for the two of them.

“Oh,” Beomgyu said, and it occurred to Yeonjun, suddenly. What he’d asked for. 

Fear went off in Yeonjun’s brain like a screeching, bright red fire alarm. He wanted to take it back. He could say it was a joke.

But there was something in Beomgyu’s face— an expression that wasn’t of judgment or disgust. There was a gentle hopefulness to the way he looked at Yeonjun then. He looked so painfully reassuring, so ready to accept whatever Yeonjun wanted to do, wanted to be. 

So how could Yeonjun lie to him? 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun choked out, clenching his jaw nervously. 

“I never knew,” Beomgyu mumbled before switching the options. Then, quickly, he added: “Me, too. I mean—I chose ‘Both’, too. I’m… I am, too.” 

It was Yeonjun’s turn to say “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu chuckled. “I guess you never know, huh?” 

Yeonjun nodded wordlessly, hoping that Beomgyu wouldn’t prod any further. Thankfully, the cashier finally called them to the front.

As Yeonjun unloaded the clothes they’d shopped, Beomgyu gestured that he’d do it. He shoved his phone at Yeonjun and pushed him to one side.

“If you want a date, you should get busy swiping,” Beomgyu said, beaming with amusement as he geared up for his punch line. “Let them know you’re dead serious.”

Hueningkai, Soobin, and Taehyun were watching something on Netflix by the time Beomgyu and Yeonjun got back. 

The three were settled comfortably on the couch, sharing several opened bags of junk food and two bottles of cider. “Is that Squid Game? You’re watching without me?!” Beomgyu whined, trying to grab the remote from Soobin. 

“I’m dying. I think I deserve to know what happens in episode six,” Taehyun said blankly before popping a chip in his mouth. Beomgyu pretended not to hear him, still scuffling with an indignant Soobin who was trying hard not to tear his gaze away from the screen. Meanwhile, Hueningkai greeted Yeonjun and helped him carry the bags into the room. 

“Oh, this is so soft!” Hueningkai cried, zeroing out on the sweatshirt from earlier.

“Beomgyu picked that out for you,” Yeonjun said proudly. 

“Thank you, Gyu!” 

With Beomgyu successfully pausing the show, Soobin leaned over to inspect the pile of clothes that Hueningkai had toppled over. “This is a lot,” he said in awe.

“Please, this is barely half of what Yeonjun and I have,” Beomgyu scoffed. 

As Taehyun ducked out to go to the bathroom, the boys sorted through the articles of clothing. Hueningkai and Soobin were incredibly enthusiastic, building each other’s pile of new clothes; mixing and matching some on the spot. While Beomgyu was criticizing their pairings, Yeonjun once again noticed a gap in their group.

A space that was left unfilled. 

Yeonjun excused himself and stumbled over the clothes, towards the bathroom. It was unlocked. He peeked inside and found it empty. Something in his stomach sank at the sight of minuscule blood droplets on the toilet lid. How had no one noticed Taehyun slipping away? 

Suddenly hyperaware, Yeonjun heard the distant, muted click of the front door closing. 

Why was Taehyun trying to slip away? 

Telling the rest that they were going on a quick 7-Eleven run— and swearing to the other boys that they’d both come back in one piece—Yeonjun grabbed his windbreaker and rushed out to follow Taehyun. It didn’t take much to find him. He was hanging out at the bus stop nearest his dorm, a city map in his hands. 

Taehyun didn’t look surprised to see Yeonjun jogging up to him. 

“Of course you’d notice,” Taehyun said once Yeonjun had reached him. “Do the others know?” 

“We’re at 7-Eleven,” Yeonjun responded stiffly. The other boy cocked his head to one side as if assessing the lie. 

“Believable. You should grab some bread for Soobin on your way back.” 

“On our way back.” 

“I’m not going back there, and you know it.” 

Cold, callous, and calculating. Those were the typical words one would use to describe Taehyun. In their group, Taehyun was the most stable and reliable; he managed Beomgyu’s erratic moods and always looked out for Hueningkai.

It was easy to forget that he was on the younger end, considering how mature he always presented himself to be. 

None of that maturity seemed to shine through in that very bus stop. Yeonjun saw Taehyun for what he was: A teenage boy counting his minutes left. 

“Why not?” Yeonjun asked. He was firmly rooted to his spot. As much as Taehyun looked like he wanted to be alone, Yeonjun just couldn’t cut him some slack. “Come on, Taehyun. Come home with me.” 

“I’m sick, hyung. I’ve been for a while now,” Taehyun said with a sad, sad. “You’ve noticed, right?” 

Yeonjun had noticed. He’d taken trips to the drug store to buy Taehyun some painkillers. He’d cooked him soup for comfort. He’d even insisted that they should go to the hospital and check it out, but Taehyun was dead set on riding out what they thought to be a run-of-the-mill flu. 

“I finally got it checked this morning. My sister brought me. No one could figure out a proper diagnosis, but right after our appointment—” Taehyun faltered. He met Yeonjun’s eyes. “The damn Death-cast call is so scripted, isn’t it?” 

Yeonjun slumped down onto the vacant seat next to Taehyun.

“Anyway, I told my family over lunch,” Taehyun went on. “I wasn’t planning on letting the boys know—I just wanted to have a nice dinner and call it a day—but you…” 

“How did you know before I told you? You looked like you already had a feeling.” 

“I’ve always been the smartest one,” Taehyun retorted. Yeonjun wouldn’t have contested him either way. 

Humoring Yeonjun, Taehyun folded his hands over his lap and smirked ever so slightly. “We both balked at Hueningkai saying that the pizza was ‘to die for’,” he said. “I don’t think you would have reacted that way were it any other day. For you to react to something as offhanded as that, you must be worried about dying.” 

“Why aren’t you saying goodbye?” Yeonjun asked abruptly, the words tumbling over each other as his curiosity got the best of him. Taehyun winced in the slightest.

Taehyun didn’t owe Yeonjun an explanation, but Yeonjun couldn’t think straight. If he could, he would keep Taehyun by his side for the rest of their 24 hours. It was cruel to admit that Yeonjun didn’t want to be the one left living.

“I want to die alone,” Taehyun said decisively after a pause.

“Where no one I love will have to find me. My family thinks I’m with you. And you,” he looked straight at Yeonjun. “Will let the boys think that I’m with my family.” 

Yeonjun recoiled as if he’d been punched. “You want me to lie to them?” 

“Consider it my dying wish.”

“Taehyun!” 

“Yeonjun.” The missing honorific made them both falter a bit. Taehyun took the edge out of his tone for his next words.

“I won’t be in the middle of nowhere. There’s a wing at the Seoul National Hospital for people who have been called. They make the funeral preparations and when you— when you’re— they let your legal guardian know. My sister knows, so she’s ready to pick me up.” 

“I don’t want any of you to see me lose any more of my strength than I already have,” Taehyun went on steadily. “Let them remember the Taehyun who went to Lotte World with them. The Taehyun who tried his best not to spoil Squid Game. Let that be who I am. Not the Taeyun who’s coughing up blood.” For added effect, Taehyun reached out to clasp Yeonjun’s hands. He clung tightly, even as Yeonjun tried to pull away. “You’ll do that for me. Won’t you, hyung?” Taehyun pleaded, voice cracking. “You’ll let me have this.” 

“You are cruel, Kang Taehyun,” Yeonjun responded through gritted teeth. “You are heartless and insensitive, and I will never forgive you.” 

In turn, Taehyun gave him a gentle smile. The bus was rolling up to the stop. There’s no one here for you, Yeonjun wanted to yell at the driver. You’re not going to take him from me.  

“There are letters on the bedside table,” he said. “I’ve left my phone at home, too, because when they start calling, I’ll want to answer— and it will take everything in me not to.”

Taehyun released his grip on Yeonjun. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll never be sorry enough.” 

“If you’re really sorry, you wouldn’t be leaving,” Yeonjun seethed. He knew that he sounded hopeless and whiny, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he was hurting. 

Taehyun flinched at his words; Yeonjun didn’t take them back. He trusted that Taehyun knew the depth of his distress and why this was so difficult for him. 

It was a sorrow so deep that Yeonjun couldn’t bring himself to hug Taehyun back as the latter mumbled his goodbyes. 

At his own death, Yeonjun will think of that moment. It will be his one regret. 

Taehyun boarded the night bus that would shuttle him to Seoul National Hospital. Contrary to Yeonjun’s belief, Taehyun was oblivious to Yeonjun’s pain of mourning someone who was still alive.

The younger boy sat with his heavy heart, wondering if he was making the smart— no, the right— choice. 

The bus pulled away from the stop and Taehyun glanced at Yeonjun through the window’s reflection. Slumped in defeat, his friend remained motionless before standing. Taehyun expected Yeonjun to head back to his dorm. 

But then Yeonjun hit the ground running. 

He darted down the sidewalk, following the bus’s route. Taehyun sat up. Palm against the window, he watched Yeonjun sprint past pedestrians and haphazardly slide down the pavement.

“That boy’s crazy,” the bus driver commented offhandedly. 

It was a scene straight out of a television drama, and it made Taehyun laugh in spite of himself. Thankfully, Yeonjun’s chase was cut short as the bus stopped at a red light. To Taehyun’s absolute horror, the older boy started banging his fists against the bus’s sliding doors.

“Hey, stop that!” the bus driver yelled. “I’ll call the police on you, you psycho!”

Yeonjun kept knocking, demanding entry. “I just need one minute! Please, just give me one minute!” 

“Get the fuck away from this bus right now, kid!” 

Unnerved, Yeonjun took a step back and did a quick scan of the bus until his eyes met Taehyun’s.

Without missing a beat, the older boy hollered loud enough that Taehyun could hear his sincerity through the glass: “I forgive you, Kang Taehyun! I forgive you!”

The stoplight turned green and the bus quickly pulled away from the intersection, leaving Yeonjun standing dejected on the street. As the bus driver cursed him and the other commuters whispered among themselves, Taehyun buried his face in the crook of his elbow to hide his face. 

He was stupidly relieved to finally be alone. Later, when they give him a room to pass away in, he will assure the attending nurse that he has made peace with his fate. But in the bus where there are nothing but strangers, where no one knows who Taehyun is, he allows himself the grace of fearing death. 

And for the first time in a long time— for the last time in his young life— Kang Taehyun let himself cry. 

As Yeonjun expected, the boys weren’t happy with the lie of Taehyun heading back home. 

They weren’t angry. None of them could seem to be mad at the dying boy.

Hueningkai was upset, constantly ringing Taehyun’s cell; Yeonjun itched to tell him that it was futile. Soobin buried his head in his hands, the forgotten episode of Squid Game playing on in the background.

“The last thing I said to him was that I hated him for watching without me,” Beomgyu said. His empty gaze was trained towards the television. “I’m never going to be able to take that back.” 

“I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it,” Yeonjun said. He thought of his last image of Taehyun; hand to the window, jaw slack with shock. “This is what he wanted.”

Hueningkai collapsed onto the couch after his nth phone call went unanswered. No one could look at each other, so they quietly sat through the duration of the show’s episode.

The sounds of Soobin’s sniffles echoed in the small room, overlapping with Taehyun’s voicemail recording. 

Hello, this is Kang Taehyun. I can’t answer your call right now. Leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. 

“He left letters,” Yeonjun announced as Squid Game ’s credits rolled. “They’re in his room.” 

No one responded. It was as if Yeonjun hadn’t spoken at all. 

“I’m going to go read mine. You can come with me if you want.” 

Neither Beomgyu, Hueningkai, nor Soobin moved an inch. 

Standing so suddenly that he knocked into the coffee table, Yeonjun let out a hiss before glancing at his remaining friends. They refused to meet his eyes. He wished he could do something for them, but he was honestly just as broken and betrayed. 

“Suit yourself,” he said wretchedly, not meaning to have so much venom in his tone. He stalked into Taehyun’s room and made it a point to slam the door close behind him. 

It took Yeonjun a moment to realize that Taehyun had prepared for this. Most of the room was bare, save for a few cardboard boxes in one corner.

When Yeonjun took a peek, he realized that Taehyun had packed away everything; his camera, his posters, his clothes. All that was left was his mattress, where four envelopes were neatly laid out in a row. 

“You’re not actually going to read your letter.” 

Yeonjun didn’t jump at the sudden intrusion. Beomgyu wasn’t asking a question, either; he was stating a fact. 

“No, I’m not,” Yeonjun admitted, staring at the precise handwriting that lined the outside of the named letters. “Not yet.” 

“Okay. Well, I will.” 

To Yeonjun’s shock, Beomgyu stepped past him and snatched the paper that had his name. He ripped open the envelope and got to reading. Cautiously, Yeonjun watched Beomgyu. 

Slowly, Beomgyu’s shoulders dropped. When he bent his head, Yeonjun realized what was happening.

Beomgyu’s sobs were quiet— unassuming and wounded. The grief washed over the two of them like waves. Yeonjun did not know how to keep his head above the water.  

“He loved us, right?” Beomgyu asked suddenly, turning to face Yeonjun. “Even if he left. He loved us.” 

“He did.” 

“And he knows I never hated him. He had to have known that.” 

“He did.” 

With the back of his fist, Beomgyu forcefully wiped the tears out of his eyes. Yeonjun is struck by how young he looks; by how young they all are, to have to deal with all this. 

“I should have been nicer to him,” Beomgyu said. He glanced down at the letter before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Then maybe... “ 

“It wouldn’t have changed his mind,” Yeonjun said quietly. Then, because he didn’t know what else to say, he simply repeated himself from earlier that night: “This is what he wanted.” 

Beomgyu didn’t point it out, anyway. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes, seemingly letting the worst of the news hit him. Yeonjun knew he ought to have done something then— maybe reached out and hugged the younger boy— but he was too lost in his own misery to realize that Beomgyu’s heartbreak ran deeper, if only because Taehyun’s affections for him were different. The letter gave away as much.

Like a switch that had been flipped, Beomgyu forced himself to speak in a lighter tone. “You’ve still got a few things on your bucket list, right? Why don’t we get them done?” 

“I hardly think that a date is appropriate right no—” 

“‘This is what he wanted,’” Beomgyu parroted, mimicking even Yeonjun’s intonation. “I’m sure Taehyun would hate to see you moping.” 

Yeonjun shook his head, too tired to argue. “I haven’t matched with anyone on the app. And besides, I can’t imagine going out with a stranger who will have no idea what I’m going through.” 

“Then go out with me.” 

The shocked silence that followed stretched between the two of them, filling every corner of the room.

Yeonjun was taken back to the compliment he paid Beomgyu earlier that night. I’ve always loved how shameless you can be. The thin line between brashness and bravery blurred at that moment as Yeonjun gawked at Beomgyu, who refused to falter. 

“I won’t ask why you seem sad or what your thoughts are on death,” Beomgyu insisted. “We’ll grab a coffee. Share a bingsu. And I’ll pretend not to know much about you so I can ask you what your blood type is, then I’ll lie that we’re compatible.” 

“That’s a thing?” Yeonjun asked dumbly. 

Beomgyu gave the older boy a watery smile. “Anything for a second date. But since we can only have one, I promise to cram in everything you’ve been missing out on. I’ll even fight for the bill.” 

“Why?” 

“Why would I fight for the bill?” 

“No, no. Why are you— Why are you doing this?” 

Beomgyu’s hesitation was fleeting. Yeonjun caught it nonetheless. If he had only been a little more observant, he might have noticed the blush tinging Beomgyu’s ear or the tremor in his twitching fingers. 

“Because it’s on your bucket list,” Beomgyu said. “Taehyun finished his. You should get to clear yours, too.” 

There was no way for Yeonjun to know if Beomgyu was lying. Taehyun had kept his bucket list mostly a secret, though he had assured Yeonjun at some point that it was ‘short and sweet’. It was likely that he had divulged in Beomgyu, and Yeonjun wasn’t in the business of doubting such a simple fact.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a little more to Beomgyu’s offer. Yeonjun reflected if the proposition would have still come up had their thrift shop conversation not happened.

But Beomgyu was never insincere, and Yeonjun wanted to give him a tender memory that only the two of them shared. 

And so Yeonjun said yes. When Beomgyu tried his hardest not to smile too widely, the older boy forced himself to quiet the fluttering in his chest.

This was not part of the plan. Vaguely, he felt like he was making a mistake. 

How could he be, though, he thought, as Beomgyu beamed and blabbered about where they should go? 

How could such a good thing be wrong? 

It happened like this.

The two agreed on a nearby breakfast cafe. Yeonjun had avoided counting down, but it was difficult to miss the fact that the sun had already risen. That meant he had only a few more hours before his 24 were up.

Yeonjun got to the cafe first because Beomgyu said he’d stop by somewhere with Hueningkai. Soobin was initially reluctant, finally letting them go and succumbing to the fact that he was emotionally spent. When Yeonjun left Taehyun’s dorm, Soobin was napping on the couch.

Yeonjun made it a point to tuck a blanket around him.

Bored out of his mind, Yeonjun was carving Taehyun’s initials into the wooden table when it happened. 

And it happened so fast. 

He heard Beomgyu calling his name. He looked up to see the younger boy holding a bouquet of tulips.

There was a sweet smile on his face and a spring in his step as he locked eyes with Yeonjun and skipped down the pedestrian lane. It touched Yeonjun, that Beomgyu had gone out of his way to buy him blue and purple tulips; his favorite flowers in his favorite color.

A grin was tugging at Yeonjun’s lips when the speeding car slammed mercilessly into Beomgyu’s frame.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re dying. Yeonjun had always wanted to know what his highlight reel would look like. He had never thought that you could imagine someone else’s life while they were dying.

Vision blurring with panic as he rushed to Beomgyu’s side, Yeonjun found himself flooded with flashbulb moments of Beomgyu. 

The first time he’d lost a game to him. Their arguments over mint chocolate chip ice cream. Beomgyu coining the term ‘hiccup’ for the trip-ups on Yeonjun’s Good Days, after Hueningkai had accidentally cleaned out his hard drive while downloading anime. 

This was the worst hiccup that could possibly happen, Yeonjun thought as he dropped to his knees.

Beomgyu looked dazed, lying motionless on the pavement. As Yeonjun scooped him up, the younger boy looked up at him with a bleary expression, seeming more confused than hurt.

“Hey,” Beomgyu croaked. “I think I got hit.” 

“Hey,” Yeonjun responded, trying his best not to sound too hysterical lest he scare Beomgyu. “You’re fine, though. You’re fine.” 

The driver of the car stepped out of his vehicle, looking horrified. One side of Yeonjun filled with a searing, murderous rage. He was about to stand and swing at the stranger until Beomgyu started coughing vigorously. 

“Call a hospital! Now!” Yeonjun bellowed at the driver. His voice cracked with desperation. “He’s not supposed to die today. He’s not supposed to die!”

“Hyung—” Beomgyu tried to say, failing to finish his sentence as he spat up more blood. 

Cradling Beomgyu’s head in his lap, Yeonjun clung onto his friend tightly. “I don’t understand,” he stuttered. “I don’t—I can’t—”

Beomgyu was mumbling something incoherent. Yeonjun leaned in closer, catching Beomgyu’s repeating words: “I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, idiot?” Yeonjun whimpered. “You can’t die. You’re not going to die. You haven’t been called yet, Beomgyu.”

It’s in that earth-shattering moment— as Beomgyu wasted his breath apologizing, struggling to keep his eyes open but trying his best to look straight at Yeonjun anyway— it’s then that it dawned on Yeonjun.

Beomgyu had known about Lotte World and Death-cast. Beomgyu had tried his best to squeeze into all of Taehyun and Yeonjun’s photos. And Beomgyu at the restaurant fronting had echoed the script Yeonjun heard in the studio’s locker room.

Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully? 

“You haven’t been called yet,” Yeonjun repeated. He knew he was in denial at this point, but this was the worst possible thing that could happen to him. “Come on. Tell me you haven’t been called.”

Instead of doing as he was asked, Beomgyu reached out to hold Yeonjun’s face.

The slightest movement seemed to take so much of his remaining energy, yet he persisted despite Yeonjun’s protests. Delicately, Beomgyu cupped Yeonjun’s cheek with one of his hands. 

“I didn’t want anyone worrying over me,” he admitted softly. It broke Yeonjun, how uncharacteristically frail Beomgyu sounded. “I thought death would be a little easier on me.”

Yeonjun wailed, doubling over to bury his face in Beomgyu’s shoulder. The sharp smell of smoke and blood hit him hard. “Damn you, Beomgyu. We wasted all your time doing things that Taehyun wanted— that I wanted—”

Beomgyu laughed and winced immediately right after. 

“All I ever wanted to do was to be with you four,” Beomgyu said, and Yeonjun started crying so hard that he was sure this would be the cause of his own death— the way the sobs wracked his frame, the pure fear that struck his heart.

Beomgyu’s voice was barely above a whisper as he went on. “I’m sorry you never got to go on your date, hyung,” he mumbled, gesturing weakly at the bouquet he had been carrying.

Save for a petal or two, the tulips had miraculously survived the impact. Red spots stained the kraft wrapping paper. “I like to think I would have been a good one,” Beomgyu breathed.  

“You would have been the best,” Yeonjun said fiercely. Beomgyu smiled contentedly.

“I know you’re just saying that, but I’ll take it,” he responded. His eyes fluttered to a close and the pained expression on his face softened. For a heartbeat, Yeonjun was scared that he’d lost him.

Thankfully, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, his unfocused gaze trying to find Yeonjun’s own.

“Hey, don’t give up on me now,” Yeonjun begged. He closed his fingers around Beomgyu’s shoulder, pulling the younger boy closer to his chest.

They could both hear the distant sounds of an ambulance siren. “We’ve still got a lot to do. Hyuka and Soobin are still waiting for you.” 

“Hyuka and Soobin…” Beomgyu repeated slowly. “Tell them I love them, won’t you?” 

“Tell them yourself.” 

“I’m sorry I can’t buy them more clothes.”

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” 

“And I’m sorry to be leaving you, hyung.” 

Yeonjun let out a broken sob. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t,” he said. “Stop apologizing, because we’re going to get you to a hospital and patch you up, and we’re going to go on the best date, and you’re going to live many happy years—” 

“Do you want to hear something selfish?” Beomgyu interrupted. The ambulance was rounding the corner. “This whole time, I prayed to go before you.” 

“Why?” Yeonjun asked wretchedly.

The ambulance parked and the driver ran to meet them. “I can’t imagine a world without you, Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said with bated breath. Yeonjun wondered why he’d never noticed it before; the devotion in Beomgyu’s tone, the star-like shine in his eyes. “And I’m glad that I won’t have to.”

As the paramedics rolled out a stretcher— as Yeonjun kept insisting that he could still be saved— Beomgyu thought nothing of the blinding hurt ripping through his body. He closed his eyes, finding comfort in the fact that he was in the arms of someone he loved. Not everyone could say they were half as lucky, he decided. 

Throughout the night, he was curious what his last words would be; if he would have a choice at all. He had wanted it to be something cool, something awesome. But as he clung to Yeonjun, he knew that there was only one last thing to say.

Grinning, he wiped away some tears from Yeonjun’s panicked expression. 

The paramedics were already swooping in and grabbing his ruptured body away from Yeonjun, but the older boy was still hanging on to him as if his own life depended on it. Beomgyu tried to commit the scene to memory.

Yeonjun, with his wild expression and tousled hair; his lips quivering, his eyes full of fear. It pained Beomgyu to leave him like this. Greedily, it relieved him that he would be the one going first. 

“Take all the time you need,” Beomgyu assured, giving Yeonjun’s hand a final squeeze. 

Beomgyu managed the ghost of a smile. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” he said. 

Then he shut his eyes— and nothing much was left after that. 

It turned out that Choi Beomgyu did get to choose his last words after all.

 Yeonjun was the one who made the calls. He let Beomgyu’s parents know, then his brothers.

He called Soobin, who didn’t answer; he called Hueningkai, who picked up on the first ring. 

Hueningkai and Soobin made it to the hospital within ten minutes of the call ending. 

Disoriented, they all listened to a doctor rattle on about comas and chances. “This means he’ll get better, right?” Hueningkai asked no one in particular once the discussion was over. “He hasn’t been called, so he’ll wake up soon enough.” 

The two older boys shared a look. Yeonjun shook his head, and Soobin squeezed his eyes shut. Hueningkai watched the brief interaction unfold, stumped by what he was missing out on.

“Beomgyu didn’t get called by Death-cast,” Hueningkai repeated louder, as if his first statement was simply too quiet to be true. “He’s going to wake up from his coma.”

At a loss for words, Yeonjun reached out to hug Hueningkai. Soobin followed in suit. The youngest tried to squirm of their grip, not wanting to accept the implications of their remorse. “Let go of me. Don’t act like— don’t make me think that he— you’re both being—”

Eventually, Hueningkai stopped fighting.

For a moment, he stayed completely still as Soobin and Yeonjun held on to him. The trio stood there in the middle of the hospital hallway, huddled together while bawling over a betrayal that only they could share.

For Yeonjun, it felt like the world was closing in on him. He was spared by the harsh comfort of Hueningkai and Soobin feeling the same emptying loss.

After what felt like an eternity, they stumbled over to one of the waiting room benches so they could regain some strength.

“Did you know?” Soobin asked, voice hollow. 

Yeonjun shook his head. His throat felt raw from all the crying. He couldn’t imagine speaking without wavering. 

Instead, he turned to Hueningkai, who was staring at a photograph. It was his latest Instagram post from an hour or so ago— a shot of the flower shop he and Beomgyu had visited. The bouquet Beomgyu had bought lay a few seats away from the trio. 

“You should make a post here, too,” Yeonjun said suddenly. Hueningkai looked up at him skeptically. He had a right to be dubious; updating one’s Instagram didn’t seem like it ought to be a priority.

But Yeonjun wanted to honor Beomgyu somehow, wanted to immortalize him somewhere. 

“You have to remember,” Yeonjun insisted. “Even the bad things.” 

The rest of the sentence lingered between the two of them. Because soon enough, I won’t be around to remember any of it. 

“Even the bad things,” Hueningkai repeated.

He took a picture of the hallway. As he typed a caption with shaky fingers, Yeonjun rested his head on his shoulder, and Soobin held Yeonjun’s hand.

They drew from each other what little strength they could share. 

They had no other choice. 

Heading back to Taehyun’s dorm was too painful, so they made for Soobin and Yeonjun’s apartment.

They tried to fall into some sense of normalcy by playing a round of a computer game and putting on some bad Netflix film, but it was difficult to will away their loss and pretend that they weren’t waiting to lose a little bit more.

So they talked about Taehyun until there were no more stories to share.

They shared their favorite memories of Beomgyu, laughing so hard at some of the anecdotes that by the end of it, Yeonjun’s sides were in stitches.

They took photos for Hueningkai’s Instagram. They gave Yeonjun time to write his ‘will’. 

Hueningkai asked him if he was scared of dying.

Yeonjun lied and said he wasn’t. 

Soobin asked if he was lying.

Yeonjun let his silence speak for him.

At one point, Yeonjun glanced at the clock, did the math, and realized he had survived 22 hours. Was it possible to cheat Death-cast? Yeonjun wondered, foolishly amused. 

He didn’t have the energy to dwell on the thought. He didn’t have any energy at all, really.

He was so drained that he didn’t even remember dozing off while snuggling with Soobin. He jolted only at the sound of Hueningkai’s loud snore.

The couch was cramped, so Yeonjun dragged himself to his bed. Half-awake, he typed out a text to his parents that meant to let them know that he was okay and that he’d call them after he napped. He was too tired to even know if he hit send. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell right back to sleep. 

He was dreaming of tulips and brown-eyed boys when the cardiac arrest happened.

Choi Yeonjun could not cheat death after all. 

Hueningkai found it nearly impossible to live in the aftermath.

It was made particularly difficult by how much the city reminded him of the past. Like how the dance studio had renamed to YJ Entertainment, honoring their star student by using the script on his final note as their logo. Like how the breakfast cafe never threw out the table with Taehyun's carved initials. Hueningkai once sat at it, only to be dragged under at the sight of KT etched into one corner. 

Soobin was an immense pillar of support. The two remaining boys clung to each other in the first few years, doing everything they could to work around their complex emotions.

Eventually, they realized that the grief would never really go away. All they could do was grow around it. 

Their frequent meetings trickled down to weekly occurrences until they decided to stick to first Fridays— it lasted a few months, but it brought the both of them too much pain. They decided not to force it. They went their separate ways and learned how to live with the mourning.

And they did, really. Hueningkai kept up with Soobin through social media. They never lost touch. They just took some time to heal separately.

It had been a while since they last saw each other. Their last conversation was about how Yeonjun's dance break trended, and how Hueningkai's father was encouraging them to copyright the song. 

The posthumous success that Taehyun joked about, Soobin had said laughingly. Hueningkai found some comfort in the fact that he was not the only one left remembering. 

He never went back to the restaurant they last ate at, though it was hard for him to miss out on the snowball Beomgyu and Yeonjun had unintentionally started.

Unbeknownst to Hueningkai, the two had left a doodle that night; he would only see it spreading on social media a few months later, after the restaurant recognized a tradition that was happening to its patrons. 

"This is pretty cool, isn't it?" 

Hueningkai nodded, staring at the scrawled last words scaling up the restaurant wall. Soobin stood at his side, the two having agreed to meet-up for lunch.

Beomgyu and Yeonjun's little act of vandalism inspired a chain reaction of some sort. Now, those who were called by Death-cast could visit the restaurant for their final meal and, on their way out, leave a small part of themselves behind on the storefront.

"I think Beomgyu would be happy to see this," Hueningkai chuckled. "He'd be excited to be so famous." 

"Yeah, he really would."

The two made their way into the restaurant, making small talk and catching each other up as they waited for the waitress to stop by their booth. When she finally stopped by, Soobin looked up directly at Hueningkai as he spoke.

"I heard the food here is to die for," Soobin said casually. 

Hueningkai stared back, momentarily thrown off. 

And then he smiled— finding peace in the fact that he and Soobin could share one last thing. 

hueningkai's instagram account: @hyukatheloser.

[stariez-artz]

Tk headcanons of my favorite TAWOG characters

There’s only a few so uhhh yeah.

Sal Left Thumb:

lee: 50% ler: 50% lee:

He kicks his feet to try and squirm away

His accent completely disappears when he laughs hard enough

He hiccups

He uses every threat in the book on his ler

Enjoys snuggle/cuddle tickles more than just tickle hugs

Palms are probably highly sensitive since probably nobody ever held his hand

Probably will threaten to bite the ler, but will never actually go thru with it

Would try to talk his way out of it: "Wahait!- H-Hold on!! W-We can talk! I can sing you a SOOOOAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHANG!!--"

"You're being held hostage by the dreaded tickle monster!!" "I'M A GROWN MAN!"

Gets anticipation tks, so if someone js hovers their hand over his stomach, he'd get all giddy and giggly “Noohoho-!”

ler:

A huge dad when it comes to tickling

Teases the claw anticipation thing like a BITCH

Says stuff like “Oh? Whazza matta, kid? This a bit.. ticklish?” And then start tickling the FUCK out of whatever spot he’s teasing

Plays the tickle monster game ALL the time

Does both cheer up tickles and punishment tickles when someone pisses him off

“Gotcha!” “Whazza matta, ya goofbawll?”

The type to say “The tickle monstas gonna… GETCHA!!”

Traps the lee in cuddle tickles if he’s close enough with them

Comments on their laughs and squeals to get them flustered and see how they’ll react

“You’re just a cutie, aren’t ya toots?”

Does the “I’m gonna eatcha!” Thing cuz his sharp teeth can be his advantage

Does those little tickle nursery rhymes

“Aww, I caught the lil criminal, didn’t I?”

Does the “tktktktktktk!!” Thingy

Usually does scribbly tickles

Doesn’t do raspberries often but does when he’s cheering someone up

Julie’s Oppenheimer Jr:

lee: 60%

ler: 40%

Just like when he explodes, his laughter his extremely high pitched and squeaky

Hiccups included

Stubborn little bastard so you’d have to tickle him for a while to get even a giggle out

Worst spot like EVER is his lower stomach

If you’re somebody he genuinely trusts, he’s more carefree and squirmy and doesn’t threaten to punch you as much

If you’re not however, he WILL threaten to punch and kick

Embarrassed by his smile and laugh so he hides his face a lot

Gets all pouty when you’re done

“Hmph… *calls you 15 slurs*”

If he even asks someone for tickles-- it'll be like… deadly rare since he has a reputation and an ego to maintain

"Gohohod damn it-- you're ruining my ihihihimAHAHAHAHAGE--!"

Pounds his fists on anything in sight (even the ler)

"Whats the-- ah shit, don't ya DARE--" type of fella

Even if his laughter is high pitched and squeaky, it's also kinda like the 80s cartoon laugh

If u flick his little wick, you'll get a squeal and a jump before getting tackled

Absolutely adores anticipation tickle (he doesn’t tell anyone but it’s obvious)

Modown uses his claws to an advantage on his self proclaimed leader

ler:

The type of ler to mock his lee

Says the word “tickle” CONSTANTLY when tickling someone

Definitely a BITCH about it

You tickle him, you better put some running shoes on

“Aww, what? This tickle? Too bad!”

Angry grumbles when tickling like "Little ticklish fuckin'… grrr"

Mocks you like "Yehehes!" or "Noooohohoho!~ No what, huh?"

Switches spots constantly "Not here? What about here? Yeah, here? Yeah, right there?!"

Does belly raspberries if he's holding u on his lap

“Gotcha! Imma tktktktktktktktkl ya forrrreverrrr!!”

Tickles his friends out of pure spite

Would hold someone upside down and squeeze their belly

Would say that he's gonna punch them and when they wait and close their eyes, he'd wreck them. "What? I'm not THAT bad, aren't I, sweetie?"

Points it out if the lee snorts

Tickle traps them, prove me wrong

Pokes the lees tkl spots with every word like: "You. Earned. This. Ya. Little. Shit!"

“Pretty easy to tickle for a shortie.”

Occasionally chuckles along: "You're ridiculous…"

The Awesome Storekeeper:

lee: 10%

ler: 90%

Only ticklish spot he’d really have is his hands

Not much to work with for darkness

ler:

Uses his magic stuff in his store to tickle his lee

The type to go “Heh.. gotcha”

GREAT at sneaking up on people if his eyes are closed

“Haza! Can’t hide from me, kid!”

Pokes spots while going “boop! Boop boop a doop!”

Only tickles from the hips and up

Traces little circles around the bellybutton

Keeps eye contact when tickling to make it worse for the lee

“What? You wanted this” if the lee asks for tickles or provokes him

“Don’t look at you like what? I can’t control how my eyes look!”

“Aww, poor thing..” while the lee is physically wheezing and punching his arm

Mr. Small (season 1 SPECIFICALLY.):

lee: 60%

ler: 50%

lee:

REALLY snorty but refuses to admit it

"Grumble No.I'm not. I'm nohot-- staha-- snort dahahang it!"

Worst spots, waist and belly

Possibly ribs if tickled long enough

Since he’s a cloud primate thingy he’d be soft and squishy to the touch

Doesn't EXACTLY like being tickled, but doesn't hate it either

Will try to push you away, but it's so pathetic you'd cry

Does little leg kicks

"My feet do nahat look like sushi, the heeeheheck?!" He was in that situation once

Isn't much as a squimer, just hugs himself and curls up

Claims he isn't ticklish, but as soon as someone tickles him, he'll turn into a puddle

Has soft giggles, not much of a loud laugh guy

"Eeehehe-- oh, stahap!.. You're being ridiculous! snort hehehe!"

ADORES tickle hugs, they make him feel loved

Gets blushy if someone messes with his fingers

"Pff-- whyhyhy?.."

Gets rlly blushy and giggly if someone does the "leg guitar" thing

ler:

Does soft tickles

Sometimes tickles troublemakers if they get out of hand (maybe Gumball and Julius for example)

“Everything okay, kiddo? I’m just trying to help you out..”

Uses cheer up tickles if anyone feels sad and wants physical affection

Does the rib guitar thingy (definitely sings his little “take my advice and you’ll be glad that you do!” Song while he does it too)

"Hey now, interrupting my lovely voice with your giggles? Ya want more time on the clock, trouble?"

Doesn't exactly tease, just hums while tickling them

Uses the silence snake, or, I’m sorry. -ahem- the SILEEEENNNNCCCEEEE snake by lightly pretending the puppet is chewing the lee’s sides or belly

this is all I got so uh get out <3

[the-book-of-dragons]

Film Theory Is Wrong About HTTYD

Okay so normally if you have seen my other blogs such as my Sonic and Mario blogs, whenever covering fan theories I usually choose to not name the person in question whose theory I am covering.

The reason I am doing things differently for this post is this theory is less of a theory and more of claims about HTTYD that I am intending to debunk, and there is no the "insert name here" theory for this.

Anyways.....

So first off a part of the premise of this video is fundamentally flawed, as it makes the mistake all too common with fan theories. The problem is when people try to force real world logic onto fictional worlds. I addressed this in a post I had made on my Mario lore blog , and it basically boils down to people taking things way too literally.

People often forget that these fictional worlds play by their own rules, and not our world's rules., and by extension forget they are supposed to suspend their disbelief.

Keep in mind this is a world where the characters are vikings and they don't go on a viking(raid), they live on an island called Berk(joke name), and live alongside hexapod reptiles.

Now while the dragons are given a real world grounding through the fact they lack the spectrum of sexual dimorphism like real world reptiles do, and are given things like shot limits. The dragons still also have traits of animals such as birds, dogs, cats, etc.

In other words in this world, the fictional animals called dragons can simply just be trained as they act like pets.

But also, I would like to note cats and dogs are believed to have gone down the commensal pathway to domestication, which the dragons seemed to have gone down alongside the directed pathway in-universe.

Eventually the Matpat goes on to do his usual schtick of trying of leaving trying to leave out contradicting information, all to serve a narrative that Hiccup is evil and abusing Toothless.

Btw, this is the method he usually does and he has instructed his writers to do as well to make "theories," see the following post for more info on this.

He does what he did in his Mario is Mental video of by ignoring the context of Hiccup is just barely figuring out how to create a functioning tailfin for Toothless. He tries to claim Hiccup's goal is to get Toothless to do what he wants, and ignores the fact Hiccup was trying to prevent Toothless from dying by giving him a means of flying.

He ignores the fact that Hiccup barely had figured out in Dragons: Gift of the Night Fury how to make a tailfin, let alone made a tailfin to allow Toothless to fly on their own.

He also says that Hiccup has systems in place that allow him to remain in control, systems he never says what they are.

Alongside this he ignores that in Dragons: Gift of the Night Fury Toothless did not want to fly without Toothless and actively destroyed the tailfin that allowed him to fly on his own.

As Hiccup and Toothless are both equal and their relationship and care about each other.

Toothless instead of choosing to leave and find a mate ad have offspring like all the other dragons did when they migrated, Toothless went to find Hiccup's hat for him hence the title of the film.

Again, they are friends, it is why they 2 of them were able to take down the Red Death rising above basically what can be considered the natural order.. it is why Toothless was able to break the control of the Bewilderbeast and challenge it to protect Toothless, as they are stronger together.

As the ending of the second film put it, "we may be small in numbers but we stand for something bigger anything than the world can put against us. We are the voice of peace and bit by bit we will change this world. You see we have something they don't. Oh sure they have armies, and they have armadas. But we have, our dragons!"

Also, using the groundness the films do use, even if Toothless could fly on his own there is the issues of the the tailfin causing diseases and issues such as gangrene if not treated, or the issue of the tailfin catching fire.

Anyways...

When the video started MatPat made did a bit in which he made a joke about Hiccup giving Toothless Stockholm Syndrome, and that's basically what he is trying to claim happened here.

That being said outside of this being your typically purposefully misunderstanding of pieces of media like Beauty And The Beast, but it also is promoting bad information.

This is because Stockholm Syndrome really isn't a thing, and is basically in the realm of pseudoscience.

Speaking of pseudoscience

Matpat goes on about how reptilians can't be trained, which as established already wouldn't apply to the dragons of HTTYD.

But he also tries to say this is because of the lizard brain or reptile brain as it is also called. So the lizard brain is a well pseudoscience, and is up there in the crowd of things like evolutionary psychology. Btw this isn't the first time Matpat has used pseudoscience, aside from the other example in this video he also used the Myer-Briggs personality test in another video of his.

That aside, another person who also covered this "theory" named Silver WillowWing also showed how Matpat was wrong about reptiles too. In their video Dragon Training is IMPOSSIBLE? In Response to Film Theory | Dragon Doctrines #1 at 5:58 they bring up and show how reptiles can be trained in a similar manner to cats and dogs, and showed video evidence. Written by Eris