#one of those cases of the right story at the right time

[onceinablueberrymoon]

I don’t know if you’re doing smut, but if you do, how about the reader is a recruiter like the salesman and there together and how would he be with you in the Bed! (He’s a total psycho for me hehe)

salesman x recruiter!reader headcanons (sfw + nsfw)

sorry for the super long wait! i did headcanons for this one since i’m not the most comfortable w hardcore smut. if you’ve read my stories, you probably already know i’m a sucker for soft and domestic salesman lmao

notes: gender-neutral!reader; the recruiter is called salesman here since reader is also a recruiter here

warnings, just in case: mentions of whips, guns, slight exhibitionism

minors dni! there’s smut in this one, folks

(also pls send me requests! i’m working on the ones i’ve already received, but more are always welcome♡ not just for the salesman either, i am begging anything sangwoo too) 

sfw

if the reader is also a recruiter, you’d have probably met the salesman just after becoming a recruiter yourself. 

while the salesman’s game of choice was ddakji, yours was tic-tac-toe. 

similar to the salesman who carried ddakji tiles and various bills of won, your briefcase contained a simple wooden frame and wooden ‘x’ and ‘o’ pieces. 

when you first met, he was polite and courteous towards you.

as time went on though, you felt as if you were being followed after work hours. one morning however, you’d caught him following you and confronted him, saying that his assigned location wasn’t anywhere near yours.

stunned that you had discovered him, he offered to have lunch together, which you accepted. the two of you started to grow closer, with both of you checking in on each other via text throughout the day. 

even though you and the salesman would rarely cross paths during work, you always made time for each other after work. 

this man can be soft when he wants to be. from cutely pouting when he loses at board games to snuggling in bed after a long day of slapping people, he’s capable of being a loving partner when he feels like it. he just didn’t have someone to share that side of him until you came along.

that’s not to say he doesn’t have a dark side. of course he does! that’s what we’re all here for, right?

nsfw

you always knew the salesman had interesting… tendencies. 

although you also played games while seeking out prospective players, you didn’t bring that part of your life home. that is, until you met the salesman.

you quickly learned that he loved games. so much so that he’d incorporated them into your sex life.

what game haven’t you played by this point? 

tag, where he chased you around his apartment until he eventually pinned you down and had his way with you.

marco polo, where he shouted “marco!”, to which you replied “polo!” from your hiding spot. he’d then crack his whip in the direction in which you called.

tug of war, where you’d both tug on a special rope he’d bought just for the occasion. he’d usually win, unless he took it easy on you. the winner would use the rope to tie the loser’s hands to the bedpost.

and of course, when he was feeling spicy, his favourite: russian roulette. while he rarely loaded the gun with a live bullet, he thrived on the fear in your eyes when he pressed the gun against your chin and clicked the trigger. 

of course, he’d do it to himself too, even going so far as to deepthroat the gun. even though you were scared out of your mind, you had to admit it was a huge turn-on.

contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t always the one in charge.

you also had your fun, like when you would play with one of those paper fortune-tellers you made when you were a kid.

depending on what “fortune” he had chosen, you’d do different things to him.

for example, if he chose “slow”, “teasing”, and “cockwarming,” you’d do exactly that. you’d tie him to the bedpost, then teasingly grind down on him for as long as you wanted. no amount of frustrated groans or the rare whine would get you to stop your actions. of course, you’d capture his lips to muffle his moans. while he loved making sure that your neighbours could hear you through the walls, you preferred not to have an audience.

finally, he’d take the utmost care in helping you clean up afterwards. as much as he would love to show your ruined state off to the world, you had to be presentable for your job.

you’d try your best to care for him as well, buying expensive lotions for his calloused hands. 

all in all, you made a great team, both in the streets and in the sheets.

i am very proud of that last line ngl

[steddieas-shegoes]

i love him on purpose

for @steddielovemonth using red, white, and royal blue for inspiration

rated t | 1385 words | cw: forced coming out | tags: established relationship, secret relationship, royal steve harrington, wayne munson is the president (god i wish)

🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵

The news broke in the middle of the night, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, and just before Steve’s alarm woke him up.

PRINCE STEVEN CAUGHT HOOKING UP WITH FIRST SON EDDIE, ROYAL FAMILY INSISTS ON SECRECY

Every headline is some variation of Steve and Eddie being caught, but there’s no photos. Most articles point to the royal family not wanting to allow it, but they didn’t even know about it.

Steve’s been so careful, much more careful than Eddie. Eddie’s told his best friends and Wayne, who deserves to know when his nephew turned son is getting into things. Especially when the thing he’s getting into is the Prince of England.

Steve doesn’t really have many friends. He has Robin, who is more like a sister to him, and an entire advisory team, publicists, security…

He won’t answer his phone, which means all of those people have probably informed him he is to have no contact with the outside world until they figure out what to do. Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

They talked about hypotheticals, as any young adults in the public eye are wont to do. How they’d handle the press when they come out. How they would handle Steve’s family when they come out.

All under the assumption that they would have control over their coming out.

How naive.

“Ed. I have to give some kind of message here,” Wayne says softly, gently like he knows that Eddie is gonna beg him not to say anything until he hears from Steve. “Silence ain’t gonna win us any favors.”

“I promised he wouldn’t have to do this alone,” Eddie says. “If we make a statement now, I’m just throwing him to the wolves.”

“Not necessarily. Plenty of options with what to say. As long as we acknowledge we’ve seen it, they don’t have to have any other information,” Wayne says. “I’ll follow your lead, kid.”

“I don’t know what the right thing is.”

Wayne pulls him into a hug. This isn’t the first time they’ve had a PR nightmare on their hands, and probably won’t be the last. Wayne’s always been good at handling things just fine.

But this is something Eddie needs to handle. He accepts the comforting hug, then he decides to be brave.

****

“Forcing anyone to come out is disgusting, and the media has done it time and time again. In this case, they took something that should have been up to me, and up to Prince Steve, and made it world news based on a false report of someone seeing us together at an event. Whether we are together romantically or not isn’t up for speculation. We are what we are. We choose how to define that to ourselves, to our loved ones, and maybe someday, to everyone.” Eddie takes a deep breath and looks into the many cameras facing him, trying his best to ignore the reporters anxiously waiting to be able to ask questions. He’s not letting them, but they don’t know that yet. “Respect goes both ways. Pops has always taught me that respect is earned, not freely given. No one in this press room has earned my respect. Until you do, the only news story you can break about me is that I’m disappointed in the way the media has handled this news story. Thanks for your time.”

Eddie leaves the room.

Wayne is waiting for him in his office.

“Proud of ya, son.”

“Thanks.”

“Your boy will be here in four hours.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “He called?”

“He did more than call. He caused a scene with every secretary in the building. He insisted he needed to speak to me.”

“He could’ve called me,” Eddie is pacing.

“You left your phone in here earlier, remember? He was desperate.”

“Is he okay? Have they made a statement yet?”

“They haven’t. They wanted to see what we’d do first.” Wayne holds Eddie’s phone out to him. “But I think he could stand to hear from ya.”

Eddie steps in to take the phone from him, but Wayne clasps his hand between his, holding tight.

“I can’t protect you from the media forever, but I’ll always stick up for you and your happiness. You know that?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie answers.

“That goes for your Prince, too,” Wayne smirks. “His family’s on thin ice, though.”

****

Eddie talks to Steve on the phone for a few minutes, but Steve’s not alone, and Eddie’s trying not to hide away entirely from everyone who cares about him. It’s a short conversation, but it’s enough to get them through until Steve arrives.

He sounds like he’s being stoic.

Eddie knows he’s struggling.

It takes nearly two hours of security for Steve to actually get to Eddie’s suite.

“Baby,” Eddie says as he pulls Steve into his chest, feeling whole for the first time since he woke up. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“They’re making a statement any minute now,” Steve says miserably.

“I’m guessing it’s not what you wanted.” Steve shakes his head in response. “That’s okay. We can work with whatever we need to.”

“They wouldn’t let me do it,” Steve explains. “I wanted to do something like what you did. They said I was too emotional.”

“I think you’re just emotional enough. God forbid you show signs of being a human.”

Steve laughs. Eddie smiles.

“Have you eaten? Do you wanna get cleaned up? I know you hate how airplanes make you feel,” Eddie offers.

Steve tightens his grip around Eddie. That’s answer enough.

****

“We sincerely hope the media will understand that making accusations of this nature about a member of the royal family will not go unpunished. Whether it is true or not, we will be handling this discussion internally. We have contacted the President’s office to have a discussion with their team. Eddie’s statement today was not discussed with us beforehand, nor did it go through any of our approval, and should not be seen as our official statement.”

“Does your grandfather always look like someone pissed directly in his eye?” Eddie asks Steve as they watch the official statement from his room.

“It depends on which of us has displeased him,” Steve laughs. “If it’s my mother, his lip curls up over his teeth.”

Eddie pulls Steve into his side on the couch, turning off the television so they can have some peace. They sit in the silence for a couple of minutes, something neither of them get to do very often.

“Wayne offered us the house in Indiana for a bit. Said it might be nice for us to just be away from the chaos,” Eddie runs his fingers up and down Steve’s arm, smiling to himself when Steve shivers against him. “At least for a few days. Let the media move on and give time for your family to get the sticks surgically removed from their asses.”

“That sounds nice,” Steve agrees, leaning his head back to kiss Eddie’s lips. “I wanna do something first, though.”

Steve pulls away so he can get his phone from the coffee table. It’s been on silent and face down since he arrived. He types for a minute, and Eddie waits.

Steve sets his phone down and turns back to Eddie with a grin.

“Okay, ready to go.”

Eddie’s phone goes off in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks down at where he’s been tagged on Instagram in Steve’s post.

It’s a picture from the trip they took with Wayne to Indiana last month, the two of them by a fire with melted marshmallow all over their lips. They’re both happy.

The caption makes tears pool in Eddie’s eyes and a semi-hysterical laugh burst from his throat.

Doesn’t matter who pissed in his eye, as long as I’ve got you. Let’s go off the grid, baby

“You’re gonna be in so much fuckin’ trouble, baby,” Eddie laughs with disbelief.

“I don’t care. They know better than to cause a bigger scene.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. “Can we go to that diner when we get there? The one with the burger that have cheese inside the meat?”

“How American of you,” Eddie teases. “I’ll make sure Wayne calls Benny ahead of time so he knows we’re on our way.”

[seat-safety-switch]

Once, we were on a roadtrip. On that roadtrip, we stayed at a hostel. That hostel, despite its other negative attributes, sported a couple of goats. Here's the thing that you should know about goats: they'll stand on your hood.

Now, I'm not one of those people who frets about every single rock chip. In fact, just before I had settled down for that fateful night, I had taken the Celica blasting down a gravel road at a great (and surely legally compliant) rate of speed. I had to get to breakfast, though, and I firmly believe that in the great pantheon of nature, "I want to eat some eggs" overrules the goat's right to survey his(?) kingdom by standing on my hood. So I told him to leave.

Funny fact about goats: they do not understand English. Or, they do, and they just don't comply with anything you tell them. I tried a few other languages, and then threw in some profanity when that didn't work. Nothing doing. The goat stayed on my hood. Stuck, I decided to do what I always do to end a conversation: get in the car, and rev the engine a couple times while making annoyed gestures at my passengers, who were all standing well away from the goat, terrified/impressed by the majesty of nature inherent in it. Breakfast, motherfuckers, I shouted. Let's go.

Banging that humble 5SFE off the limiter, even cold, did not dislodge the goat. The goat, in fact, just stayed there, happy to ignore the frantically-revving cough drop under their hooves. Finally, I gave up, and killed the engine. As a group, we decided it would be best to just let the goat leave on his own, rather than risk any harm by trying to drive away. We went inside and hungrily played cards for awhile, pausing only to take furtive glances out the window in case the goat had left.

An hour later, we came out, and the goat had left. Now there was a cat on my hood, a nice orange tabby. It was much easier to get rid of the cat. All I had to do there was attempt to lure him inside the car so I could have a free cat. Took off like a shot.

If there is a moral to the story, it's that you should always do a roadtrip with more than one car, so you can still get breakfast when there's a goat on your hood. You might think this advice is useless now, but just wait until it happens to you.

[beomiracles]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 02

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings drinking, kissing, red flag beomgyu but what's new, references to them hooking up, descriptions of blood/gore/murder, surprisingly little warnings for such a long tape, but it's just... vibes through and through I can't explain it okay?

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. heh, this one's a mouthful, but that's only because it's the original 02 and 03 merged heh, plus my own fleshed out version of course. hmm, I really like this part though, a personal favourite :3 absolutely would cry if I got to hear ur thoughts on it !!

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 02 ] — Red Lipstick Stains recording length: 9.8k

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Is everything alright?” 

Kai’s light voice slices through the dark clouds looming over your head and your gaze snaps up to meet his. “You’ve barely touched your food”, he says as he motions toward your still full plate. You follow his line of sight, heaving a small sigh as you prop your head on one of your hands. 

“Not feeling particularly hungry today I suppose”, You mumble as you push said food around leisurely with your fork. It was kind of Kai to offer you lunch like this, your junior often did his best in trying to please his colleagues, sometimes you wondered if Kai ever gave himself credit for his hard work. 

Kai puts his own fork down as he swallows. His big brown eyes search yours, much to no avail as you keep them trained to your plate with a displeased frown. He clears his throat, “Does it have anything to do with your new case this morning?” He asks the question hesitantly, like he was afraid of stepping on a nerve he wasn’t supposed to. 

Finally, you lift your gaze to look at him. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder your next words carefully. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Kai, but Yeonjun had made it clear that what you were doing was technically against policy. Besides, Kai had never been one to keep secrets, especially not when pressured into confessings, which he more than often was. 

“Partly..” You slowly admit, “But for the most part I’m just tired, it’s been a long week as is.” You give a weak shrug as you reach for your glass, sipping on your water unenthusiastically. Kai, on the other hand, doesn't seem convinced as he studies you with a small frown. Still, he seems to respect your boundaries and doesn’t try to pry further. 

You give him a faint smile, “Sorry, I’m not exactly good company right now.” But your junior quickly shakes his head, immediately objecting. — “You’re always great company, noona.” Both the compliment and the formality makes your smile widen, Kai really was adorable. 

“You’re great company too, Huening.” 

He blushes furiously at that as he quickly occupies himself with his own food. You liked spending time with Kai, he was easygoing, despite his somewhat awkward compliments. The atmosphere always felt light when he was around. The restaurant he’d taken you to was small and quaint, situated just across the park. And though the flowers had yet to bloom and the treetops remained naked, you found it a beautiful sight. 

Beomgyu had rarely taken you out to restaurants. In fact, he’d rarely taken you out at all, anywhere besides those clubs and dark hotel rooms at least. Back then you failed to see the issue with that, but then again, there were a lot of things you had disregarded in better judgement of Choi Beomgyu. 

⸝⸝ 

📼 — March 31st 2022 

Three days was actually an awfully long time when you waited for something. And it felt even longer when you didn’t know if what you waited for would ever come. In fact, these past three days had felt like three years. — 72 excruciatingly long hours without Beomgyu, and for every single one of those hours, you had not stopped thinking about him. 

On your way to class, in class, at work, at home, with Kayla. Oh. That’s right. You had yet to tell your friend about your quickie out in the alleway. It was better that way, or at least so you thought. She would only scold you for going against her words... But what if they had been said out of jealousy? You shouldn’t take them too seriously, right? 

Sex wouldn’t kill you. — But it would definitely get you addicted. 

This newfound abstinence somehow grew with each passing day. You thought you would’ve moved on by now, forgotten him, just like he’d forgotten you. It was obvious that what had transpired between the two of you three days ago had merely been an exchange of pleasure. Beomgyu hadn’t as much as looked back when you parted ways, neither had he given you his number, or taken yours. 

It was a one time thing, no strings attached, literally. Perhaps his nonchalance after sharing such an intimate moment should’ve been your first warning. 

Briefly you wondered if things would’ve turned out differently, had you taken a cab home that night and forgot about the alluring stranger. But there was no changing the past, and now you were to live with this decision, for as long as you could remember.

It was late, well past midnight on a Tuesday night when your otherwise dry phone chimed with a notification. The bright screen illuminates your dark bedroom, and your attention diverts from the coursebook in your lap and over to the small device. With a perplexed frown, you reach for it. As you squint against the near blinding brightness, you find an unfamiliar number on screen.

The sender had left one message. An address and a time. 

2am.. And in an area you did not recognize. A small and uneasy feeling settling within the pits of your stomach as you re-read the text over and over. Despite every reasonable sense in your body practically screaming for you to block whoever this was and forget about it, you can’t seem to find it in you. 

Instead your shaky fingers begin to type out a reply. 

“Who is this?”

Message not delivered. Huh? Why wouldn’t it let you… Something was wrong, very wrong. But despite your inner turmoil, the winning side ends up being the one that forces you out of bed as you stumble toward your dresser. — The sender had left no signature, yet you were almost certain of its source. A small sense of hope surges through you, and it is what compels you to go through with this utterly idiotic decision. 

Your arms wrap around your skimpily dressed body. Spring has yet to take hold on the biting frost that still lingered. With urgent steps, you scurry through the narrow alleyway. The light of your phone screen illuminated your way amongst the unfamiliar buildings and the further you got from the main street, the heavier your heart grew. Had this been a mistake? What if someone was luring you out here to kill you? 

Finally, there’s light. But it is not the warm and comforting glow of the usual streetlights. No, this is a purple, almost pinkish hue. It paints the brick walls around in a soft sheen. Your pulse quickens as you near the entrance of what you assumed to be another nightclub. It was strange.. You hadn’t heard of this one, nor was it anywhere to be found online. 

There’s a man by the doorway. You find your gaze lingering by his broad shoulders, his thick arms looking ready to rip through the tight shirt he wore. Your breath hitches in your throat when you catch a glimpse of the multiple tattoos of different symbolism covering his veiny forearms. Did he not get cold? 

The bouncer looks down at you, for he was tall as a skyscraper, and raises a brow. “You lost?” He asks, his voice is gruff, carrying a mocking tone as he watches you expectantly. — Nervously you shift on the spot, your mouth opening and closing repeatedly as you fumble for words. “I uh…” 

He chuckles, the sound echoing through the alleyway as he throws his head back. “It’s alright - What you’re looking for is probably down the street and to your right.” He nods in said direction, a smug grin stretching across his lip when his gaze falls on you once more. — “It’s more, your style”, he slowly adds. 

You can’t help the offended frown that flashed across your face. Your style? Sure you wouldn’t argue over the fact that this was unlike anything you’d usually do. But this was just insulting. How dare he speak to you like that, how dare he… — Oh but who were you kidding? You looked nothing like those who would spend half their awake time here. 

What were you even thinking, coming here, all alone no less? There was no way you would be let inside. — Such a waste of time. 

With a heavy sigh, you readjust your grip on the small handbag you’d brought, turning on your heel as you prepare to leave, when suddenly, a voice calls for you. It’s familiar, much so that it makes your stomach flip as you freeze up. Beomgyu. — Slowly glancing over your shoulder, your eyes lock with his dark ones. 

Beomgyu pushes past the bouncer who immediately gives a quick bow and steps aside. “Dollface”, he exhales, the nickname still sticking as he wraps an arm around your waist, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. “You made it.” 

You can barely protest as he pulls you to his side, your bodies clashing against one another as he heads for the entrance he’d just emerged from. Upon passing the bouncer you think you might hear him whisper something to the man under his breath, though you remain unsure of what exactly transpired between the two. 

Given your not-so-broad expertise of clubs, you would say that at first glance, this place was no different. But as Beomgyu leads you through the crowded dance floor you slowly begin to realize that this was something entirely new. — This whole place felt almost exquisite, and the people here seemed aware of it. 

There was no bar, instead drinks were being served by the many waiters pacing the outlines of the main floor, all of them wearing the same black uniform. Large, velvet clad booths line the walls, and you expect Beomgyu to take you to one of them. — His gaze, however, seems fixed on the large staircase on the other side of the room. 

Quickly you notice the lingering glances you receive. Well, the lingering glances he receives. All eyes seemed to be on him as Beomgyu swerves his way through the crowd. Did he know these people? Did they know him? They have to, given the way they all stepped aside when he passed. 

You, on the other hand, were barely spared as much as a quick look, apart from a nasty scowl delivered by one of the many hooker-looking women. — What made Beomgyu so special here? 

Suddenly, his hand on your lower back feels heavy, like his fingers were going to sink into your skin and leave a permanent indent. If Beomgyu felt their stares, it didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest. Biting down a shudder, you keep your gaze trained ahead as you follow along, reaching the grand staircase with a sigh of relief. 

When you make it to the top, a pair of double doors are immediately swung open and you step inside. Your eyes scan the more desolate area, drinking in the expensive looking furniture, the extravagant booths and the quiet murmur of those chatting with one another. Suddenly you understood… “Isn’t this the VIP section?” 

Beomgyu huffs at your question, his lips pulling into a small smirk as he nods. “Clever girl.” 

As he steers you toward one of the larger booths, you realize that you wouldn’t be all alone. A man who looked to be in his late twenties sits by the round table, his leg propped on one knee as he swishes a drink in his hand. You did not recognize him, but had you seen him out on the streets one lonesome night, your first instinct would have been to run. 

“Duri!” Beomgyu’s exclamation carries out into the otherwise quiet but hot air and the man lifts his head as he peers in your direction. He sets his drink down, shifting in his seat when the two of you approach. — “And here I was beginning to think you had stood me up”, Duri says, a wide grin on his face. His gaze drifts to Beomgyu’s hand, still secure on your lower back. 

“Ah”, he exhales, “Now I see what kept you from me.” He sends you a not-so-subtle wink, but it didn’t feel the same way it had when Beomgyu did it. 

You clear your throat, it would be rude not to introduce yourself, right? — “Hi, uh…I..” Upon giving him a small, rather awkward wave, Duri suddenly bursts into laughter. He continues for a good thirty seconds, despite neither you or Beomgyu joining in, the latter seemingly unamused. 

“Pretty little thing you’ve got there”, Duri comments as he brings his glass to his lips, “What’s your name, love?” 

“Oh! It’s-” 

Beomgyu’s hand slithers around your waist, giving your hip a firm squeeze. “Dollface. This is my old friend, Duri.” He gestures to the man in front of you, giving him an unenthusiastic look that contradicted his previous excitement. “Duri, this is dollface.” Beomgyu doesn’t give you an opportunity to protest, his demanding grip steering you toward the booth, sliding in next to Duri as he pulls you along. 

He doesn’t seem to notice the frown on your face upon settling against the cushion. “Nice to meet you”, Duri says, eyeing you carefully over the rim of his glass. — “Uh, you too..” You shyly mumble, squeaking when Beomgyu’s hand finds place on your thigh, his cold rings stinging your bare skin. 

His free hand quickly calls a waiter over who seems to be stumbling on his feet to get to your booth faster. Beomgyu’s eyes are suddenly on you, “What d’you want, dollface?” — Taken aback, you glance between him and the waiter, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.” 

Beomgyu nods, turning back to the waiter with an indifferent expression. “My usual, make it two.” — As the man scurries off, you force yourself to relax as Beomgyu and Duri indulge in a conversation regarding topics you had little knowledge of. They used words and slang you couldn’t recognize, speaking in hushed voices, as if being eavesdropped on. 

Left with your own thoughts, your mind wanders back to just a few moments prior. Why hadn’t he introduced you? Was he ashamed, but why bring you along in the first place then. Your eyes drift to Beomgyu’s hand on your thigh, his fingers moving absentmindedly over your naked skin, making light tapping motions. 

Why had he invited you here tonight? You thought it had been for easy sex, but as you sit here, your back pressed against the expensive velvet, everything felt a little too formal. Did he have an ulterior motive for bringing you out here, and if so, what? 

You could feel the heavy stares sent your way, people were always looking, as if Beomgyu was some sort of artifact. They were never really looking at you, but you somehow felt as if placed under a microscope. — It was almost thrilling in a way, sitting so close to the thing everyone in the room silently seemed to desire, for reasons you couldn’t quite understand. 

“Open up.” 

Beomgyu’s thick voice pulls you from your trail of thoughts. Startled, you blink as the cool surface of glass presses against your lips. Obliging, you let him pour the liquor into your waiting mouth. It burns your throat, yet leaves an almost sweet aftertaste. “This is good..” You murmur, taking the glass from his hand. 

The smirk on his lips only grows, “Knew you’d like it, dollface.” 

His statement makes your chest flutter and you feel your own lips pull into a small grin. “Why, you seem to know everything about me.” It was supposed to come across as a joke, friendly banter if you will. But Beomgyu’s eyes twinkle with something beyond mischief, something slightly darker, something dangerously close to lust. 

“You’d be surprised”, is all he says, leaning back against the velvet cushion as he sips on his own drink. What was that supposed to mean? 

You had almost forgotten Duri, and you jumped in your seat when he suddenly clears his throat. “Well, it seems my date for tonight has arrived.” He rises to his feet, chugging the last of his drink before setting his glass down. “Pleasure meeting you ‘dollface’..” He gives you one final glance, scoffing before walking off to join one of the girls a few booths away. 

Beomgyu doesn’t pay him any further attention, his gaze fixed on something far ahead as he mindlessly drinks. — “Who was he?” You can’t help but ask, feeling your curiosity gnawing away at you. 

“An old friend”, he simply shrugs, clearly ready to discard the matter. But you were far from satisfied with his nonchalant response. — “Then why didn’t you introduce me, if he’s an old friend I mean?” 

The small frown creasing his forehead was the first of actual expressions you’d seen on him. “I did.” He replies shortly, setting his glass down on the small table in front of you. Shaking your head, you twist in your seat to look at him fully. “Why not my name?” 

You knew your persistence was getting to him when he sighed. “What’s it to him?” He was sounding almost defensive now, his agitated response only riling you up further as you sought answers. “So? He’s your friend.” 

“Perhaps…” Beomgyu exhales, his attention now turned to Duri who was feeling up the girl he’d joined not even three minutes ago. “But not one you should be acquainted with.” — “Why?” 

Beomgyu groans, running a hand across his face tiredly. “You’re being really difficult here, sweetheart..” — “Did he do something bad?” This time you couldn’t refrain from asking, from crossing a line you knew you couldn’t return from. 

“Haven’t we all?” He counters upon emptying the last of his drink and his words sound almost solemn. You frown, “Yes but-” 

“Drop it dollface.” His voice is cold, causing a shiver to run down your spine, leaving no room for arguments as he slams his glass down on the table. You gulp as your gaze drops to the drink in your hand, its once sweet taste now sour on your tongue. Was he angry with you? You couldn’t tell, for Beomgyu’s expression remained stoic as his hand returned to your thigh. 

His answer made you certain of one thing though. Duri was someone who did things he shouldn’t. You recall Kayla’s last words about Shay, about the substance abuse, about Beomgyu. Would that mean that he also… No. Maybe he just bought from him every now and then? A small amount couldn’t be that bad right? As long as he had it under control. 

Back then you didn’t know it. But Beomgyu loved his control, more than a lot of things, more than a lot of people. — You glance up at him once more, a thousand questions prodding at your lips, you choose one. 

“How did you get my number?” 

Beomgyu groans, “Fuck dollface, you ask a lot of questions.” His free hand slides up your arm, moving to the nape of your neck as he brings your lips to his in a hot kiss. Beomgyu was good at avoiding questions, perhaps a little too good. 

That should’ve been your second warning. 

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

Beomgyu had barely changed during the ten months you’d gone without seeing him. His hair was still the same pitch black, though a bit more unkempt and thinner by the ends. He had acquired dark circles under his eyes, they made his face appear more hollow. It was almost like life itself had been drained out of him. — Yet his charisma persisted, and Beomgyu took every opportunity he could grasp in order to push and prod at your buttons. 

You rarely found yourself in doubt of your own abilities. In fact, you had been outstanding amongst your peers during your months in training. And to interrogate, to break even the most coldhearted criminal with your mere words, there was an undeniable satisfaction in that. But as soon as you had stepped foot inside the room you had been trained in for so long, all confidence was lost on you. 

How could you ever see through him, through Beomgyu. For over a year you had been trying to read him. To crack him open and peer into his mind. Sure, you had been taught different techniques and methods now, you’d practiced and then practiced again. This wasn’t the same, far from it. For Beomgyu was nothing like anyone you’d ever met before. 

Just looking at him right now made your head spin. 

“What’s your relationship to the victim?” You school your voice into professionalism, into a cool and detached one. No matter how hard of a front you put up, it felt as if he could see right through it. — Beomgyu doesn’t meet your gaze, making it impossible for you to look for clues within his eyes. He twists the rings on his fingers, one by one, almost methodically. 

A smirk you knew all too well tugs across his lips. “What’s your relationship to that man?” 

Your mind goes blank, your brows raising on your forehead as you glance around. The room was empty, just like it had been for the past thirty minutes. — “Please don’t divert from the subject when we’re-” 

“The one in the doorway earlier.” He’s not giving up, and you push back a shudder when his dark eyes flicker up to yours. It was clear that he was looking for an easy entry into your head. He was searching for any kind of insecurity you might hold, he would puncture it and slither inside, just like he always did. 

You recall the afternoon’s events, thinking back to your lunch with Kai. Carelessly you had let him drop you off by the interrogation rooms. Had Beomgyu seen him? That would be your only explanation. “That was my colleague”, you say, keeping your expression stoic, even when Beomgyu’s smirk widens. 

“Really?” He drawls, and whether he kept going because the matter intrigued him, or if it was to waste time on irrelevant topics, you didn’t know. His dark eyes flicker between yours and the door which you had emerged from half an hour ago. “Didn’t look like it to me.” 

There he goes again, spewing his nonsense as he waits for you to eat from his palm. Just like you used to. He didn’t have that power over you anymore, you told yourself that. — “What you think does not matter.” Your hands reach for files in front of you as you readjust them, buying yourself some much needed time as your attention diverts to the pictures attached. 

“What? He your boyfriend or something?” 

His question comes out half a statement, half a huff. A short breath of disbelief, an almost menacing look on his face. But you’re not stupid enough not to catch the subtle tick of his jaw, the way his dark eyes narrowed, if just a little. He rocks his chair back on its hind legs, patiently waiting for your response as he tries to gauge your reaction. After everything, he still thought he had a say in anything regarding your life, regarding you. 

“He might be”, you shrug, already flipping through the files in order to avoid confronting the topic head on. It was a lie of course. He didn’t have to know that. Beomgyu had lied to you too, at one point, it had gotten hard to differentiate any of the reality that had been vowed between his lies. 

“Bullshit.” 

The sound of his cuffed hands slamming against the old metal table is deafening, the front legs of his chair hit the ground once more with an equally empowering thud. He leans forward now, even more than what was both professionally and emotionally appropriate for either of you. — Briefly you thought that Yeonjun might interrupt, and you listen for the door. But he never comes. 

You don’t flinch, not even when his hot breath tickles your face. His brows furrow, the corner of his lips twitching. “He’s not your type”, Beomgyu plainly states, the words falling from his lips are so close that you could practically taste them on your own. — “Who says?” You quickly retort, immediately scolding yourself for letting your professionalism falter. 

Your small slip up doesn’t pass him unnoticed and Beomgyu smirks. “C’mon dollface, you forget I know everything about you.” — “Knew.” You’re quick to interrupt him, your voice sharp and almost snappy. “You knew everything about me.” 

“People change Beomgyu, I changed.” Your professionalism was slipping at a dangerous rate. You didn’t care. The satisfaction of hearing those very words leave your own two lips was far more enticing than the policy you had to follow. 

Beomgyu’s expression remains unfazed, his brows slightly raised on his forehead as he watches you with calculating eyes. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip mindlessly. Ring clad fingers tapping against the metal table rhythmically, mimicking the tick of a clock, the sound ringing in your ears. You swallow, forcing your breathing to remain regulated as you place your files down. “Let’s hold here for today.” 

The screech of your chair against the stone floor pierces the air as you stand up. Dusting off your pants, you intend to not spare him as much as a second glance when you head for the door. The cool handle sends a small spark of electricity through your palm as you grip it tight. But before you get the chance to turn it and step outside, Beomgyu speaks; 

“Is red his favorite color too?” 

Your body feels ice cold, your heart catching in your throat and your eyes widening as you gaze ahead. “What?” You echo as you slowly turn to face him. He chuckles, but the laugh holds no warmth. Not until his dark eyes fall on your lips do you realize what he’s talking about. Without being able to stop yourself, your fingers reach up to touch the fresh coat of paint you’d applied after lunch. 

The red lipstick that you had accidentally brought along this morning, the one you were supposed to get rid of. It had been but a mere coincidence right… The way it had presented itself so nicely on your dresser earlier that day. 

Beomgyu smirks, his fingers coming to a halt on the metal of the table in front of him. “You still look fucking irresistible in it”, he says, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

You look away, not wanting to face him a second longer. It was torturous, everything about him was. It instantly reminded you of why you had walked away all those months ago, of why you had tried so hard to forget him, to bury him within the depths of your mind, somewhere unattainable. 

“My boyfriend thinks so too.” It’s all you say before quickly turning on your heel and swinging the door open. Your heart pounds in your chest as you step outside. Slamming the door shut behind you with a loud thud, you lean against it as you try to compose yourself. 

Fuck, he still made you dizzy. 

That night turned into a sleepless one. Spent going through the remnants of Beomgyu, the pieces of him you still carried. Many times you’d been at war with yourself. One side argued that you should rid yourself of him completely, start anew, in a reality without him. The other side, the one that felt more than it thought, desperately clung onto him, in every way it could. That side made you replay every single memory shared with him, the good and the bad ones, it made you cry deep into the night and it made you scream in frustration and anger. Yet it always seemed to win. 

You turn the lipstick in your hands, fingers gliding against the smooth tube. It had come in a small box, wrapped in gold and tied with a red bow. Your hands had trembled as you undid the ribbon, and Beomgyu had been watching you intently. — You could still feel the weight of his hand on your lower back, the other one caressing your thighs swung over his lap. 

When you had plucked the lid, revealing the shiny artifact, your eyes had widened. Your lips parted delicately as you glanced between the lipstick and him. “I… Beomgyu this is…” You had barely been able to finish your sentence, too astonished by the gift before you. 

“Try it.” He exhales, his breath warm against the side of your face. With a small nod of your head you screwed the bottom of the tube, revealing the deep red lipstick. The cosmetic melted across your lips like butter, and you carefully spread an even layer, painfully aware of his eyes on you. 

Gently smacking your lips once, you turn to Beomgyu, shy gaze meeting his hungry one. His thumb brushed along your chin, swiping away any excess product. “Now you look like a real doll”, he’d murmured, knuckles caressing your heated cheeks. 

“I’ll wear it”, you had whispered as you leaned into his touch. And Beomgyu had hummed, a soft sound of approval as he’d pressed his lips against your freshly painted ones. 

“Good, red is my favorite color.” 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 10th 2022 

Beomgyu was difficult. Not in the sense where he was vague. Because whenever the two of you saw one another it would always lead to sex, he would make sure of that. Naturally you thought it was a mutual benefit situation going on. It wasn’t something you were opposed to, even if the idea hadn’t enticed you before. He was just… different. 

It would always go the same way. He sent you an address and a time, you showed up. It was a simple deal, one that had occurred without either of you confirming it out loud. For each instance he would use a different number, an untraceable one. At first you’d tried to show disinterest in the matter, to act like it didn’t bother you. But the truth was it did, a lot. 

Usually it’d be a club, never the same as the last, and he would make sure to get you alone as quickly as he could. Tonight was different, tonight he’d booked a hotel room, just for the two of you. And in the darkness, where only the sounds of your panting breaths lingered once he’d pulled out, you suddenly found your thoughts wandering. 

Usually you’d pass out quickly, feeling oddly comforted in his warm embrace. But tonight you’re wide awake. He is too, for his fingers draw lazy patterns on your naked hip. You swallow, blinking twice as you try to push the images from your head, biting back the questions waiting on your tongue. You didn’t want to ruin this moment, it felt fragile, like one misstep could shatter the entire thing. 

Yet the aftermath of your orgasm still surged within the depths of your stomach. It gave you confidence you usually lacked. Craning your neck, you turn your face to peer up at him. Still unable to make out his expression in the dark, you hesitate, if only for a second before asking the one question that had been on your mind for nearly two weeks. 

“Why won’t you give me your number?” 

Your words felt deafening, like church bells ringing through the air a quiet Sunday morning. Beomgyu doesn't answer, his chest rising and falling under your cheek as his fingers stop on your hip. Had you overstepped? No, this was a perfectly reasonable question. So what was the problem? 

Beomgyu heaves a sigh, the huff of air blowing over the top of your head. “Don’t got one”, he replies, his voice echoing through the hotel room. 

Confused, you lift your head as you squint toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He shrugs, “Means I don’t got one.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, hesitating. “Then how am I supposed to contact you?” Once the questions started spilling from your lips it seemed impossible to stop. You could tell he was getting annoyed by the second. — “You’re not”, he firmly states. His words manage to kill any lingering lust and warmth, the room suddenly felt cold. 

It was then, in that moment, that you realized that your relationship with Beomgyu was nothing more than a casual and mutual exchange of pleasure. You should’ve known that, suppose part of you always had, but his statement made it all the more clear. With a solemn expression you stare up at the ceiling, quietly mulling over his words. 

Sometimes it felt as if Beomgyu was made of ice. It was nearly impossible to get close, and even when you did, there was a thick layer concealing him. Nothing you said seemed to get him to melt, and anything regarding his personal life was kept stored deep within the cold. 

Beneath you Beomgyu shifts and you soon feel the warmth of his body disappear as he climbs out of bed. He doesn’t bother turning on the light but you can hear him pulling his clothes back on as he prepares to leave. — With a quiet kiss to your forehead he says, “I’ll text you.” And with that he was gone. 

It was the first time he’d left before you fell asleep. 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 17th 2022 

Days went by after that, and you didn’t hear from Beomgyu once. And when a whole week had passed since your night at the hotel, you were beginning to think that perhaps you never would. But if it was one thing you would come to learn about him, it was that you never had him where you thought you did. 

You were halfway through your morning lecture when you got his notification. A new number, a new address, just like usual. The relief and excitement that immediately flooded your senses should have been concerning. Did you long for him much so that even a simple text could get you worked up? It was almost as if you had become addicted. Everytime the unknown number flashed across your screen you knew that you would be getting your next fix. 

Anticipation flowed through your veins and you hurriedly stashed your books in your bag as soon as your professor finished talking. There was little time to waste. You walk with quick and fast paced strides, ignoring any of your classmates that tried to approach, all with friendly smiles on their faces. Any other day but today, you thought. Because today was about him. 

You reach the parking lot, all the way to your car and with your hand on the handle, a small tap to your shoulder makes you freeze. Twisting around on the spot, your eyes widen as they land on your slightly panting classmate.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Taehyun, I didn’t realize you were..” 

Your classmate waves a dismissing hand, shaking his head as he catches his breath. “It’s alright”, Taehyun clears his throat, a small grin spreading across his face. Taehyun was perhaps the only friend you had made during your time spent studying criminal justice. He was easy to talk to, and made your courses somewhat easier. You would often partner up for group projects, and this time around was no different. 

“I was wondering if you’re free tonight, for our project y’know..” He mumbles as he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance between your waiting classmate and the phone still gripped tightly in your hand. — You were supposed to meet Beomgyu tonight. 

Then again, was it really such a good idea to put your own personal needs and pleasure above your important studies, not to mention Taehyun’s as well? Beomgyu had seemingly little care for your own schedule, yet you were breaking your back trying to be there at his every beck and call. — Your eyes meet Taehyun’s hopeful ones, and in that moment you can’t bring yourself to tell him no. Fact is he had actually asked you like a decent human being, rather than sending a simple text from what could only be a burner phone. 

“If you’re not free we can totally reschedule..” — “Does 6:30 work for you?” 

Taehyun blinks, seemingly taken aback before quickly nodding, “Sure!” 

Perhaps this was just what you needed, a little distraction. Part of you wondered what would happen when you didn’t show up tonight, another part didn’t want to find out. 

⸝⸝

Your afternoon was spent like most, cleaning tables at the restaurant in which you worked part time. The hours didn’t pay a lot, but it was enough to get you through the month as you balance your studies. Having hit off with both the owners and their son, you often found yourself staying for dinner or even getting sent home leftovers from the day. Their kindness was remarkable and you made sure to work hard in order to repay them. 

It was nearing the end of your shift, the restaurant was fairly vacant and you had all but much to do. Upon clearing the last table, the doorbell suddenly chimed, announcing the arrival of new customers. Instinctively you turn to greet them — only to freeze in your tracks as your eyes fall on the small party of men. They were all dressed head to toe in black, some even wearing sunglasses despite the early spring season. 

The man by the very front caught your eye and your heart leapt out of your chest when you connected his face with a name. 

“You got any tables for five?” Duri’s booming voice sounds through the painstakingly empty room. He sounded nothing like the playful and almost flirtatious Duri you had met a couple of weeks ago. You nod, “This way”, you say, trying your best to swallow down the lump in your throat as you lead them toward a secluded table by the corner. 

Upon handing them the menu, your gaze keeps flickering back to Duri. He had yet to show any signs of recognition and you were starting to think that perhaps he hadn’t recognized you at all. A temporary sense of relief washes over you, one that would quickly be disrupted as you begin taking orders. You save him for last, turning to him with the most friendly smile you could muster. 

Duri remains quiet, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It didn't remind you of Beomgyu in the slightest, this man felt almost disgusting in a way. “Surprise me”, he then says before slamming the menu book shut. 

It isn’t until the kitchen doors fall shut behind you that you breathe out the tension you had allowed to build up during the past five minutes. What were the odds? Of all the restaurants why did he… You shake your head, dragging a tired hand down your face as you stifle a groan. — If he had recognized you, why didn’t he say something? 

You glance down to the notepad in your hand, their orders scribbled down hastily as you hurried to get away from them. The word “surprise” seems taunting as your eyes linger on the messy ink. A small frown tugs on your brows and you quietly tap the paper as an idea enters your mind. 

When bringing their food back out, you make sure to place Duri’s plate last, a rather strategic mood on your part. Your hands have an undeniable tremble to them as you tuck the folded note under the porcelain, making sure it peeks out just enough for him to see, and him only. Everyone else seems oblivious as they indulge in their meals, not paying you any mind even when you linger by their table for longer than needed. 

Duri on the other hand has noticed the piece of paper. He pulls it out between his middle and index finger, shooting you a questioning glance to which you subtly shake your head. Then he chuckles, the sound building deep within his chest as he shoves the note in his pocket. — You breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. 

With a quick bow you murmur a quiet, “Enjoy”, before turning on your heel and darting back to the kitchen. But before you make it to the large doors does his booming voice make you falter. “Thanks for the food, dollface.” 

⸝⸝

Takeout boxes and empty bottles of soju crowd the small coffee table in Taehyun’s living room. Perched on his old sofa, you and your classmate find yourselves engrossed in schoolwork, just like you had been for the past four hours. Time seemed to have little concept when spent in the presence of Taehyun and you found yourself having a lot more fun than you’d originally intended. 

Together you had been assigned to try and solve one of the many cold cases piling up at the office. It was a thrilling concept, it was something real and not fabricated by your professor for once. Using the little evidence there was, you and Taehyun play through the tape recordings of the few suspects interrogated. 

“Wait, play this part back.” Taehyun mumbles as he reaches for the record player. “Doesn't the ex-boyfriend sound suspicious here? You can clearly hear it in the way his voice breaks.” With his finger on the device, he increases the volume as he plays the tape back. You lean forward, your hands on your knees as you listen to the piece of audio. 

“I dunno..” You shrug, giving him a playful smile, “He sounds just like you.” Taehyun snorts, “As if.” Though he’s unable to refrain from grinning when he catches your giggle. 

“We haven’t played that one yet”, you point toward another cassette and your partner nods in agreement as he reaches for it. “Promise you won’t get scared?” He teases, to which you give his shoulder a push. 

Spending time with Taehyun was freeing, it was easy. But despite that, your subconscious kept wandering back to Beomgyu. A nervous feeling bubbled within your stomach, making your heart beat just a little faster at the thought of him. He’d occupied your mind for weeks now, holding your thoughts hostage and keeping you from focusing on what actually mattered. It was unfair, did he think about you like you thought about him? Hardly. 

And after slipping Duri that note, you could only hope he would receive the news of your changed plans. Would he be angry with you, or would he just not continue to see you at all. Not being able to directly contact him gnawed at you — for you wanted nothing more than to dial a quicker number and hear his voice on the other line, as pathetic as it might sound. 

Suppose it was a good thing after all. Had you had his number you probably wouldn’t be able to refrain from texting him. Yet you felt completely powerless like this, as if he was holding the strings and you were simply dancing along, just like he wanted you to. 

A small, shameful part of you felt jealous. What if he’d called someone else. Surely you weren’t the only woman he saw. But you were still special. He never saw those girls again, they were temporary, so you told yourself. Not you though, you weren’t temporary. You were someone he would call for, over and over again, you were special. 

“What do you think it’s going to be like?” Taehyun’s voice suddenly interrupts and you blink as you glance toward him. “Sorry what?” You dumbfoundedly ask, embarrassed over having spaced out like that. But your classmate only smiles, that stupidly warm and comforting smile of his. — “What do you think it’s going to be like? Out there I mean, when we finally make it.” 

You purse your lips, you had never really thought about it like that. Sure, you had known for a long time that you wanted to be someone who did good, someone who served justice and spoke for those who couldn’t. But you had never actually stopped to think of what it would be like when you were actually out there. 

You send Taehyun a lopsided grin, “I think it’s going to be awesome.” 

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 20th 2024

The sound of car doors slamming shut echo throughout the narrow alleyway. Upon stepping out the distinctive smell of sewage water invades your senses. Yeonjun, too, makes a face of disgust as he steps out beside you. “Fucking hell”, he mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses further up in the process.

The area was run down, yet nothing out of the ordinary. A small apartment complex loomed before you. The building was covered in graffiti and a multitude of its windows had been broken, making you assume that rent stayed on the cheaper end. — You didn’t have to stop and ask what kind of people lived here, you were far too familiar with the setting. Perhaps that was why you felt comfortable with taking the lead as you approached the small stone-staircase leading to the front door. 

Bright yellow tape highlights the door concealing the crime scene, reading out the words ‘DO NOT CROSS’ in bold text. Pushing said tape aside, you rummage your pockets for the set of keys you’d been provided. The old wooden door makes a squeaking side upon being opened as it slowly reveals the tiny flat. 

The sewage smell outside had been a mere foretaste of what was to come, and as the stench of dried blood hit you had to refrain from gagging. Behind you, Yeonjun remains silent as he lets you venture inside first, obviously interested in seeing your take on the scene. And while such a thing would’ve usually honored you, it somehow felt more like a curse today. 

It’s dark inside the apartment. The windows were boarded up in order to divert any unwanted attention and the air had become humid due to the confined space, in turn only increasing the sickly sweet and rotten smell of human blood. 

You mimic your senior’s actions of bringing out a flashlight, flicking it on before pointing it out before you. The frontdoor had led into an all but spacious hallway, following it took you to a tiny living room. — Something about crime scenes always makes you feel a melancholic sense of nostalgia. Whatever scene you were currently witnessing had been the last thing someone else ever had. It was a place where they had taken their very last breath, a time capsule, forever frozen in time. 

Chaos has spread through the open area, and instead of stumbling across a huge pool of blood, you find that it’s everywhere. It covers the coffee table, some having dripped down onto the fluffy carpet beneath. The couch is stained, as are the walls leading out into the bedroom. 

“They fought”, Yeonjun suddenly comments as he squats down by the sofa. He points his flashlight in the direction of the torn pillows, the indent of what had undoubtedly been a knife remaining. “He seems to have put up a hell of a fight”, you murmur as you gaze along the bloody handprints across the lower regions of the walls. 

Your senior hums, “They started in the kitchen”, he gets up and turns toward the archway. You follow him inside the small room, your curiosity at its peak. “How do you know?” You wonder to which Yeonjun pulls out a plastic bag from the large backpack he carried. Your brows rise on your forehead as you survey the bloody knife concealed inside. 

“This”, he says before motioning toward the sets of knives on the countertop and your gaze falls on the empty spot. — “Whoever killed Park Baekhyun attempted it with this knife, which they got from here.” 

Yeonjun gestures toward the entirety of the space as he continues, “Besides, this room is far less blood stained than the living room, meaning the fight most likely erupted here and then progressed outside as the victim tried to flee.” — As you take in the state of the kitchen you realize that he’s right. While the room was certainly messy, with piles of unwashed dishes in the sink as well as old takeout boxes, it never appeared to hold any signs of direct trauma. 

You follow him back into the living room as Yeonjun continues to piece together the events of that night. “The victim used pillows to defend himself”, he pointed toward the torn cushions whose feathers lay scattered across the couch. Then he frowns, “He got hit, and badly.” — Your gaze follows the heavy trail of blood leading toward the bedroom. 

“It’s strange”, Yeonjun mutters under his breath. You can’t help but ask, “What is?” 

Your senior motions toward the handprints covering the lower walls, “He couldn’t walk.” 

Admittedly you didn’t quite understand what that had to do with the matter. So what if he couldn’t walk, his fate was sealed either way, no? But Yeonjun obviously saw something you didn’t. His abilities to tell as much from the situation intrigued you greatly, and you were eager to learn his ways. 

As you approach the doorway leading to the bedroom he says, “The autopsy showed a wound on his right leg. Now, presuming that to be the reason he couldn’t walk he would have to have been crawling, using the walls to push himself forward, that would explain the handprints.” Yeonjun points to the dried blood on the cream white walls and you follow his line of sight. “This would have given the offender a great view of his throat, yet he didn’t kill him here.” 

You frown, why not kill him if he had the opportunity? Why waste time like that unless… “He enjoyed the hunt.” Yeonjun firmly states as he stops on the threshold leading into the bedroom. With a quick glance down the hallway, his eyes linger on the front door. “But why aim for the bedroom and not the way out?” 

“Could there be something important here?” You chime in, rocking back and forth on your heels as you eagerly peek over your seniors shoulder and into the bedroom. Yeonjun nods, “Perhaps.” 

The room itself remains untouched, almost neat if not for the unmade bed and dirty laundry scattered around. Though the struggle of Park Baekhyun remains evident on the floor, a thick and heavy trail of blood dragging past the foot of the bed and into the joint bathroom. 

A queasy feeling settles within your stomach as you approach. Out of all the rooms in the apartment, this somehow felt darker. The air was thicker, the scent of blood stronger and the lingering feeling of death almost crushing. — Once a pearly white, now covered in red was the bathroom. And as soon as you stepped inside, you knew that this was where the victim had taken his last dying breath. 

The mirror, broken into a million tiny pieces, lay scattered across the floor like pieces of an unsolved puzzle. The sink had several large cracks in it, you guessed from banging something or someone against it. 

Worst was the bathtub. Filled to the brim with murky red water, the shower curtains ripped off their hangers, likely a panicked response or one out of pure rage. Bloody hand and finger prints adorn the edge of the tub. — Yeonjun sighs next to you, “Victim’s cause of death was asphyxiation”, he points toward the water, “He drowned.” 

It was then your heart sank as reality finally settled in. This could all be Beomgyu’s doing. At first it had felt surreal, seeing him after so many months. Finding out that he was the prime suspect of this case. You had managed to downplay the whole thing, you had denied, no refused to believe that the man you thought to have loved could have done something like this. It was a reality you had been dying for longer than you wanted to admit. 

But as you see the blood, the way the victim had clung to life until the very end. And Beomgyu had taken that from him. He had taken it without any remorse. And you’d watched the grin playing on his lips when you read the case files, you’d heard the smugness in his voice. He was proud of himself, of what he had done. 

You felt sick to your stomach. A hand clasped over your mouth, you shake your head. The room suddenly felt small, its walls closing in on you, shoving the cold hard truth in your face. 

Beomgyu had killed someone. 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 18th 2022 

You ended up staying over at Taehyun’s place that night, and the next morning you carpooled to school. It was easy to forget when you were with him, and class proved to be just as good of a distraction. Before you knew it 9am had turned into 12pm and you soon found yourself walking out of the lecture hall. 

Kayla was supposed to pick you up as your own car had been left at home. Your eyes scan the parking lot for her familiar little car, but in typical Kayla fashion she was probably running late. Deciding to just wait her out, you approach one of the nearby benches. — The spring day is a surprisingly warm one, a gentle breeze soothing over your face as you pull up your phone in order to try and reach your friend. 

You’ve barely made it down to the letter K in your contact list when someone suddenly takes the seat next to you on the bench. Your thumb hovers above Kayla’s name and your body grows rigid as you bite your tongue. You did not have to turn your head to know who it was, for the ring clad fingers that intertwine over his lap tells you everything you need to know. 

Beomgyu quietly hums next to you and you feel your blood go cold. His presence is both invasive and unsettling, and his silence certainly wasn’t helping. How did he know what university you attended — more importantly, why was he here? Because Beomgyu never asked to meet unless he wanted something, and you had never seen him like this, outside and in broad daylight. It terrified you. 

Daring a small glance in his direction, your eyes fall on the dark attire he wore. He gazes ahead as he watches your classmates pass with an almost bored expression on his face. Try as you might but there was no telling if he was angry with you or not. Had he not gotten your message and was that why he was here? Or had he gotten it and that was why he was here? 

You anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek, keeping your attention intently fixed on your phone in your hands. The thick silence seemed to drag on forever and you wondered when Kayla might show up, she would be far from pleased when she saw who you were chit-chatting with. 

“Criminal justice?” Beomgyu finally asks, his voice matching the monotone expression on his face. You give a small, almost unnoticeable nod. 

Beomgyu scoffs next to you as he leans back against the hard wood of the bench. He rolls his thumbs over one another, not bothering to glance in your direction. “I’m sure you’ll make a great little detective, dollface.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or not, either way you decide against asking. Instead you fiddle with the elastic of your phone case as you await his next words. Your eyes met with a few whom you recognized from your lectures, most just gave awkward smiles, while others attention lingered on Beomgyu. It was safe to say that he stood out amongst the crowd. 

“You were busy yesterday.” He states and you suddenly remember your last conversation, the one which had ended on anything but a good note. — “School project..” You quietly murmur, choosing to leave Taehyun out of the equation. 

“Studies are important”, Beomgyu hums, and it seems as though he’s ready to drop the subject again. But of course you had to go and ruin it. “Did you… Get my message?” The question had been prodding at your mind since yesterday afternoon, and your voice is but a mere whisper as the words leave your lips. 

Beomgyu’s expression flashes with something you can’t quite place. It wasn’t fury but it highlighted his strong distaste for the topic. “Thought I told you not to acquaint yourself with Duri.” He sounds stern, and you felt like you were being scolded. Naturally your gaze drops to the ground and you swallow a gulp. “I know… But there was no other way for me to contact you.” 

“Because you shouldn’t.” He suddenly snaps, his tone teetering on annoyed. Suddenly your conversation begins to feel much like your last. The fear of him walking off on you resurfaces and it felt almost too much to bear. Perhaps that was why you had so abruptly turned in your seat to look at him fully. The action makes him tilt his head in your direction. “But that’s unfair.” 

“How am I supposed to just be available, what if something comes up? How would you know?” You were bordering on sounding whiny, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Beomgyu raises a brow as he looks at you. You can’t tell if he’s considering your words or holding back laughter, but soon he smirks. “If you’re not available then you’re not.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, when reality it’s far from it. 

You frown, “Then what about you?” — He shakes his head, “You worry ‘bout yourself, dollface.” 

Your lips part in objection, but before the protest can slip, you hinder yourself. A bitter realization washes over you as you understand what he’d meant. Worry about yourself… Who were you kidding, he wouldn’t have to wait long for another girl to come along if you happened to be unavailable. How naive of you to think that what the two of you had was anything but causal, he’d already proven you that time and time again. 

Now you just looked like an idiot for trying to compromise with him. You bite your lip as you avoid his gaze, wanting to be anywhere but in front of him right now. And it’s almost as if he’s reading your mind because in no less than ten seconds does he rise from his seat. — This was it, he was leaving you again, just like he had that night, and there was nothing you could do to stop him. 

You watch as he makes his way across the parking lot with his hands in his pocket. Once he makes it halfway across does he turn to look at you. The smirk stretching across his face made your heart leap. “You comin’ or not, dollface?”

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[bitethedevil]

When Raphael is standing around infront of Shar's temple, he's reciting a poem about a hunter & huntress, a lion and vultures. I'm curious if you have/have seen any theories on what this poem is about because I always felt like it wasn't about Tav/Durge, I am dying to know.

Raphael's poem: The Huntsman and the Huntress

Here’s the full poem:

”The lion stood watch in the blackest of night...

While vultures encircled, preparing their rite.

The huntsman and huntress, no match for the beast...

Come dawn of new light, did the predators feast.”

I had to rotate this question in my mind a couple of times because I had never put too much thought into it. I had always interpreted it as Raphael once again warning us about how big and scary Yurgir is, but that is not the case! I think you are absolutely right that it’s not about us.

Because I thought ‘hmm, is the lion and vultures Yurgir and the merregons, and are Raphael and us the huntsman and the huntress?”. It would not be unusual for Raphael to refer to himself as a hunter, given he fashions himself in a similar way in his diaries as a fisherman (a force from the outside disturbing the ecosystem, basically). He also tells Tav/Durge that they should not expect that they are the ‘greater hunter’, or something along those lines, when he talks to us.

However, for a game that always corrects pronouns to fit with the pronouns of the character, ‘huntress’ doesn’t make much sense. Tav/Durge could be a he or a they.

Instead, I think I have figured it out:

”The lion (Raphael) stood watch in the blackest of night...

While vultures (Tav/Durge and gang) encircled, preparing their rite.

The huntsman (Yurgir) and huntress (Nessa), no match for the beast (Raphael)...

Come dawn of new light, did the predators feast (Raphael + gang profits).”

Let’s pick this apart a bit further.

Line 1: This first line also further supports why I don’t buy the ‘Raphael is the fox’ from his first introductory poem. Dude refers to himself as cat here once again (R.I.P Raphael, you would have loved fursonas). It checks out. Raphael is the big scary kitty, just as he is in the first poem. He hides it but often hints at it throughout the story.

Line 2: We are the vultures, hungry to get something out of Raphael’s chosen prey, but we are not the main predator. This is because Raphael is full of himself and always presents himself as the biggest and the baddest. Whether we kill Yurgir or not, the ‘lion’ still gets what he wants. We don’t have beef with Yurgir personally, but that doesn’t matter because we are focused on getting something out of his death anyway, to help Astarion. We are finishing off what the lion started.

Line 3: This is peak Raphael. He does not give a flying fuck about killing the displacer beast, but Yurgir does, so Raphael mentions her too. Nessa, as gross as it is, is the only light in Yurgir’s life. It is peak deviling to mention her in the poem. Strip your clients of what they care about, so they are easier to deal with and suffer more.

Line 4: This directly mirrors his little rhyme you get if you accept his deal later ‘the master was slain in his own house, they dined on him both, the cat and the mouse’. It’s him pointing out that you are besties working together. What he is not saying though, is that he could kill you in a heartbeat if he so pleased, because he is the bigger predator.

Basically, it’s Raphael saying ‘hehe I’m gonna get ya’ to Yurgir.

It’s sort of hilarious, because it means that he’s standing there in the bushes muttering a poem that is meant for Yurgir. It’s so theatrical. Like when the villain openly monologues about their revenge and evil scheming 3 meters away from the hero in a play. He’s so silly.

(Thank you for the ask <3 Had to really think about this one)

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 111: Anya's Mama

So many things for such a little chapter, don't you think?

We saw baby Anya and we finally caught a glimpse of Anya's biological mother.

Something to notice is that they're both wearing hospital gowns, which makes me think they were in the lab and, because of that, we can solidify the theory about Anya being born there. It could be that her mom was pregnant when captured or that they experimented on her and she got pregnant while in that lab. A secret third option is that Anya's mom actually volunteered for the experiments (maybe she was a scientist herself or a family member coaxed her into doing it), although I find this unlikely due to her comment about the butterfly. Either way, I have a feeling we won't know for a very long time.

Mindreading or no mindreading?

Endo chose not to let us know about that explicitly. However, look at this panel:

I don't think Anya's mom is talking here. I think she's thinking this. Because of that, I do suspect Anya can read her mama's mind. She doesn't fully understand it but those words are inside her memory.

However, as you can see in the panel below, we don't see her classic mindreading sparkles. So, it' could also be that she saw her mom getting sad or nostalgic and she wanted to hug her. Kids are very perceptive of their parent's emotions.

If you ask me, I think she was born with that ability. Either her mom was also a telepath who was being studied during her pregnancy or she was experimented while pregnant and gained and passed her abilities to her daughter.

All this makes me consider that maybe Anya wasn't experimented on like many of us believed for a long time. Maybe those scientists were just studying her/observing her in order to understand and try to replicate her abilities. I'm really hoping Endo will go this route, it's less cruel. In any case, keeping someone so young as a case study is still wrong and I don't think Twilight and Yor will like this.

Anya's Mama

I'm talking about Yor, of course.

First of all, I think Endo summed up what motherhood is about in this panel:

It's not exactly that a mom can read their kid's mind, but it's something close. As a mom you get to know your child inside and out. When you take care of them, see them grow and love them with all your heart, you simply learn to "read every part of them."

That's how we know that Yor loves Anya and that she is her mom.

I don't know what happened to Anya's biological mom; she could be gone or still be alive. I'm sure we'll find out eventually. However, no matter what happens, I think Anya will always have that unconditional love from Yor.

There's a prevalent theme about motherhood in sxf: a mother as a safe place. Yor has mentioned it several times; she knows her job is to protect Anya and Anya feels safe when her mama is around (even Twilight notices this.)

I think the bond between them will get stronger as the story moves forward. Come on, it's pretty obvious Anya is Yor's baby, she's already head over heels and she decided she wanted to be a good mother since day 1. Also, a big theme in the story are bonds that are forged, and chosen family. In the story, blood ties sometimes are complicated (look at the Desmonds, for example.)

I'm not fluent in Japanese, but I am aware that Anya calls Yor and Twilight, Haha and Chichi, which is an English equivalent of "my mom and my dad", instead of just "mom and dad." In case you are wondering, Anya did call her biological mom, the right way: "mama."

At some point in the story, I think we will see Anya call Yor and Twilight, mama and papa the right way. I suspect this will be the moment when they will realize they're no longer a pretend family, but a real one. And it'll be simply beautiful 💖

A Few Questions

Whenever we learn something about one of the Forger's past, we are usually left with even more questions like:

Where's Anya's mom now?: I think either she's still a prisoner somewhere or she's dead. And if she's alive, does she know Anya lives?

How did Anya escape? She was so little! She must have had help from someone.

Who is Anya's dad? Maybe a scientist? A prisoner of war? Or was artificial insemination possible back then?

Is Anya her real name? I'm wondering if her mom called her differently. Here are some theories about her name. I suspect this will be important and I wouldn't be surprised if Anya is not her real name, almost as a foil of Twilight's name and story.

And also, there's a gap between that scene/memory and when Anya gets adopted by Twilight. We know thanks to Franky that in the year before Twilight adopted her, she was previously adopted by four different families, however, there's still a chunk of time missing.

I estimate she's probably 2 years old in that memory, she was 4 when she was adopted by those other families, and 5 years old when Twilight became her dad. That leaves 2 full years blank. Where was she during that time?

[andorappreciation]

There have been times where the struggle seemed impossible... Together, unrested, daunted by the lack of news or trailer, we have waited…and waited…

But the day has finally come when all these edits and drawings, these metas and fics…will help the Andor fandom countdown to the Season 2 premiere!

Sunday, April 6th to Thursday, 17th (ahead of all the Star Wars Celebration excitement) @andorappreciation will be hosting 12 Days of Andor: a fandom-wide event celebrating our resilient, creative, talented community and the long-anticipated return of our favorite rebellious show.

Prompts

April 6th, Day One: Networks Either Change or Die Dive into the interconnectedness of this complex narrative. Find the ties that bind characters, factions, and plots. Parallels, theses, and themes… obvious or unhinged, make your case!  Alternate Prompts: Symbolism || Elements

April 7th, Day Two: Everyone Has Their Own Rebellion Themes, politics, messaging--there were many reasons for Andor’s success, but chief among them was what the show had to say, both about our world and the world of Star Wars. Examine Nemik’s Manifesto, or offer your own treatise on Luthen’s methodology, but whatever you do, don’t lose your nerve! Alternate Prompts: Underrated Quotes/Dialogue || Sacrifice

April 8th, Day Three: I Show You the Stone in My Hand, You'll Miss the Knife at Your Throat Mon Mothma was speaking for more than just herself here– dualities and split identities are a throughline in Andor. Whether it’s Vel Sartha playing as the spoiled rich girl or Lonnie Jung literally posing as a double agent within the ISB, explore the world of deception and the webs of lies that hold the Rebellion and the Empire together. Alternate Prompts: Underrated Scenes || Ambiguity

April 9th, Day Four: Kill Me, Or Take Me In The last words of the first season, uttered by the show’s protagonist. With this ominous bargain, we were all left to speculate wildly about the upcoming second and final season. Here’s your chance to share those theories and predictions, from the most sound hypothesis to the crackiest wish fulfillment!  Alternate Prompts: Penultimate Moments || Death

April 10th, Day Five: They Don't Even Think About Us But we bet you do right? Everyone has their own rebellion, yes, but everyone also has their very own Glup Shitto. Are you a Time Grappler Stan? A Blue Noodle boy? Show your love for your Andor Shittos!  Alternate Prompts: Underrated Side Characters || Nature

April 11th, Day Six: That's Just Love...Nothing You Can Do About That Just like with every good story, the relationships among the characters are what draw us in and keep us hooked. Whether it’s a fraught love story or a complex connection between mother and son, Andor is rife with intricate interpersonal relations and, ultimately, a hell of a lot of love. Share your feelings about the relationships you find most compelling!  Alternate Prompts: Doomed by the Narrative || Echoes

April 12th, Day Seven: We Are Healthcare Providers Are you fascinated by the crushing bureaucracy of the ISB? The ponderous gears of the Imperial war machine? Do you simply love Dedra Meero and think she's neat? Share your thoughts about the Empire and the unique way that Andor explores the banality of evil! Alternate Prompts: Character Arcs || Morality

April 13th, Day Eight: "Pilgrim" Are you the biggest Nicolas Britell fan ever? Have you memorized every interview with Denise Gough? Have you watched everything Diego Luna is in? Show your appreciation for the incredible cast and crew that make this show come to life!  Alternate Prompts: Favorite Quotes about the show || Behind the Scenes

April 14th, Day Nine: Pockets, Piping, Some Light… Tailoring From the rich costumes to the lavish sets, Andor gave us some truly sumptuous designs to sink our teeth into. Explore the details of costumes, sets or both!  Alternate Prompt: Hidden Details || Colors

April 15th, Day Ten: Peezos… The Greenie Green Ones Run up to Arkie’s and pick up some shit posts! Just make sure you don’t look like ‘you’re a part of it’. Alternate Prompts: Favorites (episodes, characters, etc) || Humor

April 16th, Day Eleven: You’re My Ideal Reader Have a fic that you just love? A gifset that you stare at until your eyes water? A manifesto with not enough circulation (in your opinion)? Spread the love and recommend your favorite metas, edits, fan art, podcasts, gif sets, fics, whatever you’d like!  Alternate Prompt: Alternate Universe || Time

April 17th, Day Twelve: ONE WAY OUT!  You’re free! Hopefully you can swim! AKA: Dealer's choice || Free Day

How It Works

We have included multiple prompts for each day to provide optimal opportunities for fan work creators of all kinds. Pick a prompt and create to your heart’s content! When the day arrives, post your work!

Feel free to tag us @andorappreciation! We will also be tracking #12DaysofAndor2025

Do’s & Don’t’s

DO

Have fun, be creative and follow us for all the glorious content!

Please reblog!

Pop some peezos. The greenie green ones!

DON’T

Repost work that is not yours or work without credit

Post work without proper tagging/warnings

Post offensive material including non-con or bigotry

Any questions, concerns, or clarifications can be submitted via ask.

Sincerely,

@andorappreciation

ALL CREDIT FOR THE INCREDIBLE CASSIAN BANNER AND B2 DIVIDERS GOES TO LOVELY MOD @ninsletamain

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: january 2025

I'm a bit behind on getting this posted, so I'm gonna do it quick and dirty. this is not the most elaborate reading round-up I'm ever going to do, and that's okay!!! january has gotten off to a weird, uneven start in terms of reading, and that is what it is!

The Extinction of Irena Rey (Jennifer Croft, 2024) - this book is great for anyone who likes dark academia but wants to see what those students will be like when they’re adults who have to get by outside of college. in this case, they become translators for an enigmatic woman who makes them gather in a remote Polish forest and then disappears. pure vibes all the way down; truly things just happen in this book. the gimmick of the novel itself being a work by one of the characters, told from her perspective, and then translated by another character that the narrator despises, is soooo rich and interesting, and I deeply wish it had been used much more extensively.

Darknesses (Lachelle Seville, 2022) - is this book good? I couldn’t possibly say. it was very fun to read on vacation with like 12% of my brain operating. the best way I can possible explain it is that by the time the book is over it feels like Seville is running one of those old ask blogs where artists would have their blorbos and their OCs answer questions and hang out and stuff. do you know the kind I’m talking about? it’s like that, it’s dissociative identity disorder Dracula and the descendants of the human Dracula characters and Norse mythology werewolves and a vampire bunny and a dragon and Satan who’s a teenage girl with pink hair and they’re all hanging out in New York City. don’t think too hard about it. 

Become Your Own Matchmaker: 8 Easy Steps to Attracting Your Perfect Mate (Patti Stanger with Lisa Johnson Mandell, 2009) - I’m not proud of this and I can’t really justify it except that my housemates and I have gotten really into watching old episodes of Patti Stanger’s terrible TV show, Millionaire Matchmaker. the show is atrocious and so is the book but in my defense it’s extremely funny.

Queen Takes Rose (Katee Robert, 2020) - guys I can’t stand Katee Robert. I really can’t. I thought it was going to be fun but god this just sucked.

Adam & Evie's Matchmaking Tour (Nora Nguyen, 2024) - after that last one I really needed a good, normal romance novel to get me back on track, and this delivered! I don’t think it’s going to be one of my all-time faves, but the characters are lovably realistic losers and I was really rooting for them—especially Evie, who feels like a messy bitch I would love to hang out with. plus the setting, a romping tour across the sights of Vietnam, was so fun and I’m always willing to award points to a romance novel that supports telling your awful to fuck off right to hell!

Mystery Lights (Lena Valencia, 2024) - here’s the thing. every short story in this collection is a well written, coherent short story. thematically there are really clear throughlines; you’ll get a lot of mileage out of this if you like middle aged women who have complicated relationships with their daughters between the ages of 13 and 23. I really wanted to like this! and yet, I feel like this collection just isn’t going to stick with me very well. there are some cool concepts and ideas (there’s a creepy story involving a little girl who disappears into some underground caves and comes back Weird that actually spooked me pretty good) but overall I feel like it’s just not going to stick with me :/

Is Love the Answer? (Uta Isaki, 2021; trans. Sawa Matsueda Savage, 2023) - huge thanks to the person who sent me an ask to recommend this manga! it’s a very quick, sweet read about a university student coming into her aroace identity with the help of a circle of newfound friends supporting her along the way. I really liked the way it delves into the way anxiety can have you second-guessing and overthinking your sense of self even after embracing an identity. this was my Heartstopper (I say, without having ever read Heartstopper).

The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse (Louise Erdrich, 2001) - I picked this up at Erdrich’s bookstore, Birchbark Books & Native Arts, last summer while I was briefly in Minneapolis, on recommendation by an employee at the store. I was initially hesitant about the novel’s focus on spirituality and religion, given that it follows a Catholic priest working on an Ojibwe reservation throughout the 20th century, but man, this was an incredible introduction to Erdrich’s work. Father Damian Modeste is an incredible character and one of my favorite depictions I’ve ever seen of a woman living long-term in disguise as a man, and how the line between those identities blurred. there’s a scene I don’t think I’ll ever forget, in which Modeste is asked, essentially, “Are you a man or a woman?” and answers firmly “I’m a priest.” and all the while, despite the fact that he’s supposed to be an agent of colonization and the destruction of indigenous culture, more than anything he is changed by the Ojibwe people he works with. it’s a surprising, elegant book, and I was shaken to find myself crying at the end. 

A Magical Girl Retires (Park Seolyeon, 2022; trans. Anton Hur 2024) - this book is a short, rapid-fire read that’s a dry, funny take on the magical girl genre. our protagonist starts the book so mired in credit card debt that she’s considering jumping off a bridge when she’s summoned to be a magical girl, and things will only get weirder for her from there as Korea’s magical girl union recruits her to help them combat climate change. a fun read, easy to polish off in a single sitting at less than 200 pages.

salt slow (Julia Armfield, 2019) -now THIS was the short story collection I was waiting for! it reminded me so much of why I loved Armfield’s novel Our Wives Under the Sea. she has another new novel out this year and I’m really looking forward to reading that as well! she has an incredible way with love and melancholy.

[onlyjjong]

hello everyone, lili here ! ^^ i would appreciate it if you took the time to read this properly and spread it!

after reading thoroughly through several posts and hearing stories of several people, I want to take a moment to share my thoughts on the ongoing situation. I understand that this is a sensitive topic, and I want to make it clear that I am speaking purely from my own perspective, and I am making this post, not influenced by any parties. My intention is not to provoke or mock anyone, and I acknowledge that both sides have their own rights and wrongs.

Because of this, I do not want to take sides, and I am NOT picking any sides, but I will stand by what I truly believe is right. One of those beliefs is that hiding behind the image of religion does not justify or excuse wrongdoings. I also recognize that I am still learning, and there are many people far more educated on this matter (this whole situation circulating right now & the palestine situation + their history) than I am. However, from what I do know, religion should never be used as a defense for harmful actions.

Additionally, I feel that the concept of “supporting the art but not the artist” does not entirely fit this situation. When an artist actively supports zionism and genocide (or similar actions), engaging with their art��especially through streaming their songs and content or purchasing their work—directly benefits them. While creating content inspired by a song may not be entirely wrong, actively promoting and financially supporting such an artist is wrong. I want to be very clear about this: this applies not just to this particular case but to any artist or brand with harmful affiliations.

For one side of this discussion, I understand that being called a Zionist is deeply upsetting, and no one should be labeled as such unless they openly identify as one. as my friend soph (mwah ! love u babes) put it well, this [zionism] is a very strong term, and I believe this situation could have been handled in a much calmer, less aggressive way—on both sides. I also acknowledge that it is hurtful when others assume things about you based on a single action or post, especially online. no one on tumblr truly knows you, and they do not have the right to judge you so harshly.

At the same time, I do believe that if you choose to boycott something, you need to do it properly—otherwise, it loses its impact. In my personal life, I have been actively trying to implement this by reminding myself and those around me about the brands and artists we should avoid, especially those that have publicly taken a harmful stance regarding palestine. However, I admit that when it comes to neutral or uncertain cases (such as artists like enhypen or other hybe/sm artists [take note that jake has apologised for using starbucks!] or other artists that are under companies that require them by contract to stay silent; or brands that have not publicly stated that they are pro or anti palestine 𑁋 and i believe that @boyfhee worded this better here), I sometimes struggle and make mistakes too. The lines can be blurry, and if anyone is more knowledgeable about this, I genuinely welcome corrections and guidance.

I also want to take this opportunity to sincerely apologize if I have ever hurt anyone—whether knowingly or unknowingly, intentionally or unintentionally—throughout my time on tumblr. I have never and will never accuse someone of being a Zionist without concrete evidence, and I deeply regret if I have ever made anyone feel that I have. If you feel I have wronged you, please feel free to reach out to me. I truly believe that misunderstandings can be resolved through civil and open conversations.

some of you may feel that I am being nosy or speaking on something that does not directly involve me. However, I believe that global issues—especially those involving human rights—are not just the responsibility of those directly affected. Staying informed, speaking up, and holding ourselves accountable for the impact of our choices are important, regardless of where we come from. Silence in the face of injustice only enables suffering of many innocent lives to continue. That said, I am not claiming to be an expert or forcing my views on anyone. I am simply sharing my thoughts based on what I have learned so far, and I remain open to corrections and new perspectives.

At the end of the day, I believe people make mistakes, and every party involved in a conflict should reflect and apologize when necessary. I am committed to learning and growing, and I encourage open discussions with kindness and respect. If I have made any mistakes in my understanding or statements, please do not hesitate to reach out—I am always open to learning and correcting myself.

thank you for reading, and have a great day/night!

tagging to boost ! (sorry for any unwanted tags + i’m posting on this blog because i have more followers here) @miumura , @coqhee , @orimuraa , @legomaster333 , @weoris , @amouriu , @antoncyng , @geutori , @juyeoz , @macapunoz , @mujeans

[ashblooddragons]

This Mysterious Love (Chapter 9/?)

Series Masterlist

Daemons pov

I anxiously wait for the council meeting to begin. This is the earliest I ever been to one of these blasted meetings but Viserys sent a note saying today would be the day I truly am free of my blasted Bronze Bitch.

I'm already on my third glass of wine, the sweet tang of the honeyed wine hits my tongue. Though with each sip I find instead of soothing my nerves it is amplifying them. I keep wondering if Viserys changed his mind, perhaps burned the annulment papers so there would never be proof of them. Perhaps he changed my wife's mind. Too many possibilities run through my mind for me to truly celebrate.

I whip my head towards the door when they creak open only to find Otto walk in shutting the doors behind him. 

I see the look of shock wash over his face before he quickly covers it with his cold mask once more. 

“My Prince, what a surprise to see you here so early.” He says as he sets so papers on the table before taking a pot of ink and a quill that seems to be on its last legs out of his pocket. 

I presume he must be doing last minute paperwork before the meeting begins. Most likely things my brother should've done but neglected in favor of his idiot sculpture of Old Valyria. 

“Yes well I hear good news is to be spoken at this one. News worth my while for once.” I respond with a cocky grin that only deepens when I notice his scowl at my words.

“You are the Prince, the heir until the King deems otherwise or has a son. You should be here no matter what is spoken. Do you think I want to be here? I could be in my chambers reading poetry or philosophy with a glass of amber gold at my side. But I am here because it is my duty to the realm.”

I can't help but roll my eyes. Viserys has never seen me as his heir, he would rather have none than me. Seven hells he even made a deal so my first born son will sit the throne. Not me, never me. 

“Yes, well do tell my brother that for me. He doesn't care if I'm here, in fact he seems to prefer it if I were not.” I respond and from the sad sigh Otto releases I know I'm right.

“I cannot speak for your brother's thoughts. But I can speak of what I've observed. He wants you to be…compliant to his demands. He wants to seem strong in charge, even though you and I both know that isn't the case.” He says stopping when I let out a snort at the thought of Viserys seeming strong and capable. “And when you are in the room, the Lords turn to you. The mind of a warrior is ever helpful when one house declares war against the other. You know the people of Kingslanding and their needs, compassionate to those in need. Your brother is neither of those things. And seeing you have authority in a situation that he should be the powerful one in is well, frustrating to say the least.”

I freeze at his words, trying to find any jest in them only to find nothing but truth. 

“And how do you know this so well?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You seem to forget I myself am a second son. And yet I have more authority in all the Realms than my brother does even in our house. When I would visit he would be anything but kind. A snide comment here and a cruel look there. All because of one thing, the people turned to me for guidance instead of him. I am the Hand, it is only natural for them to want to know my opinion on matters. But my brother didn't see it that way. He saw his little brother try and take what is rightfully his. That is one of the many reasons I don't visit Oldtown anymore, that and too many memories.” He says before crumpling a paper and throwing it into the hearth. 

It is unsettling to realize I have more in common with this snake than I ever thought. I knew we were both ambitious but to hear him speak the same story I have went through so many times only for it not to be mine but his. Well it leaves a pit in my stomach.

But I then pick up his last words. ‘That and too many memories’. And there is only one clear answer. His wife. And I realize that they married in the Starry Sept, they had all their children in Oldtown, and the day she died he was preparing to visit Oldtown in hopes of his wife's health improving. No wonder he doesn't want to visit, there truly are too many memories. 

I go to speak when the doors open once more and the chatter of the other councilman fills the room. I watch as Lord Corlys and Lord Lyonal whisper amongst each other, I know Lord Strong is helping Colrys with having Laena become Queen though as far as I'm aware, that will never happen. 

And just when they all are about to sit my brother enters the room Rhaenyra grumbling beside him. From the scowl on his face I assume he had to drag her here again. 

“My Lords, good morrow.” Viserys says as we all stand in a show of respect. I never quite understood this rule but I know it will get me in more trouble than it's worth to stay seated. 

“Your Grace.” They all say as one with a bow of their heads. 

I wonder how often they say this for them to be so uninformed. Perhaps I should be here more often. I think before taking my seat eyeing my brother for the annulment papers. 

“You said you had news on your decision for your heir, Your Grace?” Lord Corlys speaks with a curious look in his eye. 

My brother shifts in his seat like a toddler about to be scolded. Gods we picked him to rule the seven Kingdoms. I think with a exasperated sigh. 

“Uh, yes. Though I know it's an unorthodox plan it is the one that will be set.” He starts before setting my annulment papers on the table. I can tell he has signed it for no one has worse handwriting than my brother. I swear a drunk monkey would do better. 

“And what is this unorthodox plan, Your Grace?” Lord Beesbury asks as he shuffles his papers around taking in each expense my brother has demanded, more than likely for some feast or tourney. 

“As you all can see I have annulled my brother's marriage to the Lady Rhea Royce.” He starts when the men gasp before Lord Lyonal reaches for the papers to inspect them.

“That you have…Your Grace.” Strong says confirming to the rest that it is true. 

“What does your brother's annulment have to do with the situation with the heir?” Lord Corlys asks, holding his hand over his glass as Rhaenyra goes to pour. 

You would think the girl would realize he doesn't like to drink during council meetings and yet each time he must remind her at least twice. Speaking of my niece I can see a look of anticipation in her eyes. She no doubt thinks she will be named heir instead. 

“Because I do not plan to remarry.” Viserys finally says which makes the lords all erupt into chatter of how he must. “Yes! Yes, I know I should. But I just…can't, I can't remarry after feeling what I did with Aemma. I can't, I just can't.” 

Some of the lords still seem upset even calculated with this news when Rhaenyra sets her hand on her Father's shoulders. 

“Calm yourself.” She whispers. Before pouring more wine in his chalice. 

My brother takes a moment to breathe before looking at us all again, he seems more determined “So instead of remarrying and having a son, I have decided that the first son born from my brother will be heir and King once I'm dead and gone. Hence the annulment as my brother has made it abundantly clear to this council he will never bed his ‘Bronze Bitch’.” 

I can see this calms the lords, especially ones such as Corlys and Lyonal. I watch as their eyes glaze over and new plans form.

But just as I noticed the men calm I notice a certain Princess fume. Rhaenyra slams the pitcher of wine on the table staring down at her Father. 

“You would have your Nephew on the throne, before your own daughter?” I can hear the hurt in her voice, and I don't think anyone can blame her. All her life she was just a daughter while Viserys chased after a son. One he would kill her Mother to have and yet that boy still didn't make it. 

“It is the way of things Rhaenyra. I surpassed Rhaenys because I am a son. What would it look like to the realm and the lords who stood behind Rhaenys if I were to name you my heir? They would turn to Daemon anyways because my Father surpassed Rhaenys as well, establishing that an uncle comes before a daughter. Even King Jaehaerys surpassed his niece Aerea. This is the way of the world Rhaenyra.” Viserys says trying to reason with her but she only glares at him more. “What would you have me do? I have already decided not to marry again because you demanded it. I can not uproot the realm anymore than I have!” 

The council room falls silent, deathly so. No man is willing to step in and nor would we want to. Viserys has just spoken the words they all were wondering. Why he isn't marrying is because he can't say no to his spoiled little girl. 

Rhaenyra says nothing, only turns and leaves the chambers with a slam of the doors. I don’t think she realizes that waasn’t the swift and powerful exit she thought it would be, it only showed every council member that she truly isn’t fit for the role.

None speak only glaring each other's way. I know they all are judging my brother, because that is exactly what I am doing. 

He is a man with all the power in the realm, and yet he can't say no to his daughter. He speaks of peace but forgets that at times for peace you must have wars. He truly is nothing but a weak man unable to deny his little girl anything. 

It is Otto who initiates the meeting once more with a clear of his throat. 

“Perhaps the Princess just needs a breather. Let us continue.” 

Viserys nods, finally looking at the lords once more. From the way he winces he sees our judgmental looks but like always he does not speak on it.  “As I was saying, because of this my brother will be in need of a wife, and the sonner the better. Does anyone have objections to this plan of action?” 

Each lord stops to think for a moment when Otto finally responds. “You are right, it is unorthodoxed, but it may yet keep the realm from tearing itself apart. I see no issue with this, if you truly will never remarry.” 

Though I hate that Otto is in a way trying to take this from me, I understand it. There is no point in me courting and wedding his daughter if my brother will remarry. He may say he won’t now but that doesn’t mean the desire won’t come in the future. 

Viserys seems to think on this before saying once more, he will not remarry, not ever. 

“Then I say this is a fine plan.” Otto says before turning towards his fellow council members. 

I watch as one by one each gives a nod, if reluctantly. 

“Then it is settled, this meeting is over.” Viserys says before standing and leaving so quickly I would think my brother was running. 

I watch as each lord looks my way as if assessing me, I know why they want one of their daughters to be my wife. Too bad my Little Hightower has already taken that spot for herself, even if she doesn't know it yet. 

I walk quickly through the market square holding a bouquet of flowers. Thankfully I didn't need to find that maid as I quickly asked the Lord Hand what his daughters favorite flowers are. 

I could see the slight joy cross his face when I did, it was clear his daughter has yet to speak to him of our little trip to the Dragonpit. 

“Forget me not, and gardenias. Preferably together but likes them both separate as well.” 

Though at first I thought it an odd pairing, the small blue clusters pair perfectly with the soft white petals of the gardenias.and for some reason it reminds me of her, maybe because she is always in such soft and light colored dresses. So in contrast to my niece who prefers deep rich fabrics.  

Those two truly are an odd pair. I think as I walk up the steps to the Red Keep. 

I don't miss the way Lords whisper to their daughters, normal the way after those same girls push their cleavage down so their busts practically fall out of the dress. It's truly a pathetic though amusing sight. For these Father's take pride in their most pious daughters, but as soon as a Prince is available to wed then they are them harlots. 

Some of these ladies go as far as to pretend to drop something only to bend over showing their busts before slowly rising again. I would perhaps think it an accident if it weren't for the fact these ladies make sure to stare right at me. 

Yet again, pathetic to say the least of these Lords. 

I move about the Keep looking in all the places I can think of, I even tried that damned Sept. But my Little Hightower seems to have disappeared. 

I at times wonder if I should ask a passing maid but decide I haven't stooped that low. I finally decide to call it a day when the sun starts setting.

 I will just have to give the flowers to her on the morrow. I think with a frown as I climb the steps towards my chambers. 

But just as I'm about to reach the top of the stairs do I hear someone muttering to themselves. 

“Just tell him you can't continue, it's that simple.” 

I know the voice instantly, the softness of each word, how even when angered you can't help but smile at the sound of them. My Little Hightower is at my chamber door. 

But just as that answer comes does another arise. 

What does she mean by we can't continue? 

And with that thought I take the final steps watching as she lifts and then drops her closed fist mumbling mumbling herself. 

I can't help but think how cute it Is that she can't knock on my door without it becoming a blushing mess. 

“I do believe when you want to get someone's attention it's easiest to knock on the door.” I jest with a smirk as she whirls around to face me. 

“I thought–” She starts staring at me with wide doe eyes.

“I know what you thought, but while you were panicking over a closed door, I was searching for you as well.” I say walking towards as I try not to crush the bouquet when her scent of vanilla fills my lungs. 

“I need to talk to you.” She says picky at her nails. 

I notice how some are already raw and bleeding. I reach forward taking her hand in mine as I inspect her fingers. I swipe my thumb over them frowning when she hisses in pain. 

“Well I figured that out, why else would you be at my door?” I tease reaching for her other hand when I see her start to raise towards her lips. 

I can't help but smirk at how small her hands are compared to mine. But also how soft and delicate they are to my rough and calloused ones. 

I watch as she blushes at the contact but then she quickly straightens her shoulders and gives me a glare trying to reach her hands from mine. 

“You asked to court me, and yet you are a married man–” She starts but I quickly cut her off.

“I was a married man, the annulment went through just this morning. I have the papers if you wish to see.” I say letting go of her hands for all of a moment as I reach into my jerkin pocket handing her the finalized papers. 

She quickly opens them scanning over each word and signature. Once she sees everything she needs see she folds up the papers with a sigh of relief. 

“Still, you were married when you asked to court me. You could've ruined me more than I already am.” 

I think over her words before nodding my head. “I must admit, when I asked I was already planning on losing my wife, one way or the other. It didn't matter much to me, I figured it didn't to you either when you came.” I say with a nonchalant shrug.

She only sighs, shaking her head moving to move past me and down the steps when I catch her arm. 

“Though if you want an apology, then here it is. I'm sorry I made you feel misled or used. It wasn't my intention. And though this isn't what they were meant for I suppose they can work as an apology gift.” I say holding out the bouquet for her.

She stares at them wide eyed before tentatively taking them into her hands admiring them.

“How did you know these were my favorites?” She asks, running her fingers along the soft petals. 

I bite the inside of my cheek deciding if I should be honest or not. It isn't a hard choice, I'm not going to make a fool of myself. 

“Lucky guess I suppose.” 

I can tell she doesn't believe me, and I don't blame her. I wouldn't believe me either. But she is better than I for she lets me keep my pride only nodding with a sly ‘sure’ smile. 

Asshe admires the flowers I take the time to admire her. Her hair is tied up in a braid bun with thin golden thread woven in. And her dress is a light grey. But what keeps my attention is the necklace on her neck. It's the one I gave her all those moons ago. 

She was most likely going to give it back, but now I think it will stay on that delicate throat. I think with a smirk.

When she looks up at me again that adorable blush has yet to leave her cheeks. “Well, now that we have everything cleared up…” She trails off too embarrassed to continue.

“Meet me in the gods woods tomorrow at midday. I will have a meal set for us.” I say as I reluctantly let go of her arm. 

She smiles giving me a small curtsy before turning to leave. The faint whisper of “yes, my Prince.” barely reaches my ears as she walks down the steps smelling her apology gift. 

When I enter I realize I made a mistake. I don't even know what she likes to eat!

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy @athzhowakar @fictionlurker @yn-jackson @edensfanfictionsuggestions @lady-ye @nommingonfood @dreamlandcreations @baybaybear1 @seaevans @ninihrtss @zara-zara11

[valentine-cafe]

  ˖⁺. ﹙ the obscure shadow monster artist. ﹚: vinicio agresta moretti 781 .𖹭

. . . how many secrets can you keep? !! 🍒 : “ don't blink, your eyes won't see the light again when they open ”

꒰ verse ꒱ 781

꒰ species ꒱ enigma

꒰ ethnicity ꒱ italian

꒰ age ꒱ 26

꒰ gender ꒱ male

꒰ mbti ꒱ intj

꒰ alias ꒱ the obscure, the boogieman, demon wielder, shadow whisperer, Vini, Vinsharkio ( by his brother )

꒰ story ꒱

the etching of paper drowns out deep, dark pools of silence. half-hung eyes to the sketch with a dozen open wide behind him, watching like a dark void. a haunted artist, vinicio agresta caliari, otherwise known as the boogieman.

dead eyes to match his gripping pragmatism and dark, haunting charm with dry grins. one might often find him sketching in his free time. from beautiful intricacies to twisted imageries. art to emulate the artist — a beautifully haunting presence.

keep your fears to yourself, for even his silence holds weight. the quieter of the two in comparison to his brother. a thinker, a realist. but what happens when that sharp mind takes a dark turn?

a job in which he should protect humans, and yet they become his bane. humans fear anything different in any case, humans fear without knowledge or understanding. . . so why not give them a reason to fear?

but he cannot. he will not. he's sworn otherwise. his brother will never forgive him. but even with the light not too far off; he's beginning to care less about what people may think. oh, the lines of morality do love to blur.

   

꒰ appearance ꒱

long straight brown hair, that goes to his midback. he typically ties it up in a half bun or leaves it lose. he has bangs over the right side of his face. sometimes he wears hairpins.

dull forest green eyes, they’re often hooded and have long lashes. his eyes can go black if he is in use of his powers, he can manifest numerous eyes across the right side of his face and along the rest of his body.

has fair olive skin and his veins can go black

has sharp and masculine facial features, with a touch of elegance.

Vinicio stands at a height of 6’6” and has a sleeper build, though don’t let that decieve you, lean muscle hides beneath

Can manifest multiple elongated tongues

Is able to grow extra obscured shadow limbs, that are directly from beings of the abyss.

he can unhinge his jaw and can sport multiple fangs fangs

can manifest tentacles

he can allow the shadows that hang around him and off him to be visible to the mortal eye.

wears thin silver rings and wears silver bracelets

has a midline tongue piercing

has upper and lower lobe piercings.

he keeps his nails short and paints them black.

he wears lots of white and blacks and switches between dark academia and casual.

 

꒰ personality ꒱

he has a sort of haunting, beautifully dark presence. this also comes off as quite eerie and even intimidating.

Vinicio is a quiet and reserved man, teaming with dryness in both his expression and voice

he is quite refined and has a certain elegance to him.

when he speaks he is rather blunt, not being one to sugarcoat his words, this can also bleed into sarcasm. he can sometimes come off as a bit mean

he is rather mature, people might mistake him for humorless, but in actuality he has a sort of dry humor, that can at times also be quite dark.

he is rather pragmatic, which can also blend in with his humor at times. he is also quite logical in his thinking

has a sort of dark and forbidden charm to him.

very artistic, particularily in his numerous paper sketches, being creative with charcoals for the most part. although occasionally he does colour some of his works.

he is protective of those that he holds close

has a secret vindictive side to him that he has been trying to surpress for some time now.

quite literally does not have any fears whatsoever, and is rather blank towards scary and eerie or haunting imagries. he finds it amusing when people try to scare him.

 

꒰ with a lover ꒱

is protective over his lover, always making sure to check in with them when he is not around and keep an eye out for them when he is.

he has sketchbooks upon sketchbooks of drawings of you, he doesn’t show you all of them but he has shown you some.

hates everyone but you trope, extremely soft when it comes to you, even when his personality doesn’t seem to change much.

particularily enjoys when you play with his hair, running your hands through it and putting it into braided styles. at times he enjoys just putting his head in your lap and letting you do that.

is easily jealous and shows it a lot with his body language, will result with him putting his arm around you if it gets too much.

he wants his hands everywhere but he can’t really do that, so he’s always moving his hands all over you.

his shadows either act as puppies towards you or are highly eager for you romantically

very much enjoys late night cuddles with you in his bed, whether you both are silent or not.

is more talkative with you in comparison to how he is with most people.

teases you but in a way that throws you off every time because you least expect it. he can be quite the little shit about it.

will randomly kiss and cuddle up to you if he finds you asleep

acts of service is a big part of his love language, whether that be tying your shoelaces or helping you with grocery shopping.

 

꒰ strengths꒱

abyssal creatures: he is able to manifest and summon the obscure and monstrous beings of the abyss, and use them as familiars

body morphing: he can morph his body to the shape of the abyssal creatures’ limbs and abnormalities.

shadow manipulation: the ability to manifest and manipulate shadow.

soul surveying: he is able to see the true moral soul of a being.

 

꒰ weaknesses ꒱

light sensitivity: he has vision impairments in the light

abhorrent magic: the presence of abhorrent magic depending on the amount can spin his powers into chaos.

 

꒰ relationships ꒱

vespasiano agresta caliari: father

illaria moretti accardi: mother

pasquale agresta moretti: older twin brother

flora agresta moretti: younger sister

alessia agresta calirari: grandma

rainel: grandfather

valerio agresta caliari: uncle

albertino agresta caliari: uncle

pietro agresta caliari: uncle

mercutio agresta caliari: uncle

alessio arias: cousin

lorenzo agresta arias: cousin

azzurra agresta d'ambrosio: cousin

elenore agresta angelis: cousin

daria lascăr: best friend, ex girlfriend

꒰ extra ꒱

he works for a specialised group that handle supernatural and natural emergencies whether that be combative or interlectual.

he speaks italian and english and a little bit of romanian

he has a good relationship with his father, though not always the best with his mother

most of his free-time he likes to draw

his favourite pastry is cannoli

he plays video games sometimes whenever he needs a break from art, specifically fps. he somtimes plays stardew valley with daria

he likes to collect watches

he is a cat person, he wants a cat.

he had a lot of hamsters growing up.

[eugenedebs1920]

Trump is the most dishonest, corrupt, self serving, manipulative president of all time. He is high in the ranking worldwide. What has he done since he got into office? He fired almost 20 inspectors general. He gutted the aviation security agency, TSA, and FAA. He pardoned his shadow white supremest militia. He fired dozens of FBI employees. He’s purged DOJ. He’s allowed a foreign billionaire to hack the Treasury Department, giving access to every Americans personal information and access to the $6 trillion dollars of U.S. taxpayer dollars. He nominated and the Republican senate confirmed, known authoritarian murdereous dictator sympathizer, Tusi Gabbard, a woman who was on a flight watchlist regarding associations with American adversaries, to lead our intelligence agencies.

He’s asking for the resignation of 3,000 CIA agents now, demanding documents from the FBI, on behalf of his involvement in the January 6th 2021, election interference and seditious conspiracy, riot case, that he promoted, organized and led, be turned over, and requesting any agent that worked on the case be fired, mind you this was the largest criminal investigation ever undertaken due to its sheer scale and size, and threat that its impact would have to our representative democratic constitutional republic, that this was the first attempted seizure of the capital since the early 1800’s, who’s primary legal obligation was to make an example for the consequences that occur when one assaults an officer of the law, when one desecrates a federal building, particularly the capital, and when one tries to stop a constitutionally mandated congressional procedure, in an attempt to overturn the election, a case that in one way or another involved hundreds of agents on over a 1,000 separate cases, which accounts for almost 75% of the workforce would have had contact with it. (Wew! That was quite a sentence! 😅)

Less than a month ago if id told you this story it would have been interpreted as the ramblings of a crazed liberal, brainwashed by the vast and all powerful left wing media apparatus that had warped my mind into some Marxist sphere of delusion.

Yet here we are…

You don’t need to be a top notched intelligence expert to see what’s going on. This lunge towards coverup and away from accountability is clearly visible. Why would someone oppose fact checking? Because they want to lie. Why does someone remove individuals tasked with investigating fraud and corruption? Because you wouldn’t want to get caught committing fraud and corruption. Why does someone want to eliminate those tasked with asserting whether you committed crimes or not? If you were innocent wouldn’t you await the day you could clear your name? You do that when you want to hide what your involvement was.

Why would someone violate the Constitution, dissolve essential agencies and fill them with loyalists, take over independent law enforcement agencies with loyalists, and release a shadow military force through pardons? Because they intend to overthrow and usurp an entire country’s constitutional government and claim rule of it as an emperor.

This is a coup.

He’s not a king, he just plays one in TV. Just because he’s a criminal doesn’t mean he can break the law. He’s not a dictator but a clown in a circus of his own making. The executive branch is but one part of a multilayered system. Remember when Biden declared that the equal rights act was “officially the law of the land.”? That was an executive order also and everyone just blew it off as non binding and ceremonial. His EO’s are the exact same thing.

Just a criminal trying to get away with crimes. Just a conman working his con. Just a clown in the circus.

[fenya-scribbles]

Collide - Part 4

♥--------♥--------♥

<<prev | series masterlist | next>>

Pairing: Non-Idol!Dancer!Hyunjin x Dancer!Fem!Reader

Other Characters: Non-Idol!bff!Minho, Non-Idol!Jisung

Summary: They're idiots, I fear. More tension and a revelation.

Genre: fluff?, rivals to lovers

Content warnings: none I think, but feel free to correct me.

Word Count: 1,619

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, I had to cope with some personal stuff. In any case, I love these idiots and I'm very happy, y'all like my silly little story :3

♥--------♥--------♥

It had been two days since your encounter with Hyunjin. Two days of practice, running into him at the studio, exchanging uncertain glances. Two days in which the air between the two of you had been awkward at best and uncomfortable at worst. He greeted you with a simple nod every time he saw you, a gesture so simple it should’ve meant nothing. But he had never greeted you before, only given you these nasty glares and rude remarks. But now he didn’t even speak to you, both of you unsure of how to handle the situation. It was weird, it felt off, and you hated it. 

The day before the second competition round approached like that. With you and Hyunjin in this weird limbo state, where you weren’t bickering, but you weren’t friendly exactly either. You had a group practice with the other competitors, going over the choreo one last time and making sure everyone knew what was going to happen the next day. Once the session was over, you slumped onto the bench in the back of the practice room, grabbing your water bottle from your bag and taking a big sip. 

Distracted by your drinking, you didn’t see him approach. He simply was there when you set the bottle down, looming over you. Your heart beat accelerated, just like it had those few nights ago, his sheer presence sending shivers down your spine. His eyes were slowly wandering down your body, scanning every inch of you with an unmistakable  interest, until they reached your shoes. You watched his eyebrows arch slightly, and followed his gaze. 

You immediately noticed, what he probably had - your left shoe was untied. Slowly, your eyes wandered up his frame again, only to see him go down on one knee, eyes locked to your laces and eyebrows furrowed with an odd determination. You watched his elegant fingers take hold of your laces, swiftly moving them over and under, silent and lost in his self-assigned task. You didn’t move, frozen in place by his unexpected actions. He just knelt there, tying your shoe, without a word, and it had your stupid, traitorous heart racing.

You didn’t know how to react. This was wholly uncharted territory for you, so you just watched him, feeling how he gently pulled the laces tighter, as he knotted them into a pretty bow. There was something so soft and heartwarming in the way he took care of your laces. Never in a million years would you have thought to feel that kind of warm, fuzzy feeling spread in your chest because of Hyunjin. But here you were, happy to be sitting, because you were sure your knees would not support you right now.

When he was done, he cautiously looked up at you. It occurred to you, that this had never happened before. Hyunjin looked up at you. With his height, he usually towered over you, so that you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. But now it was the other way around, now his head was tilted slightly back, as he glanced at you. His eyes were so big and soft, as if he was trying to apologise but didn't know how to speak. As if he was trying to gage where you were at in terms of him. The vision had your heart melt in your chest and you cursed yourself once more for your inability to be indifferent about him.

Instead, you were locked in his gaze, and once again, just like when you’d caught him alone those few nights ago, time seemed to stop. There was something unspoken inside you, something pulling at your heart and mind and body and soul. Something telling you to just go for it, just touch his face, grab his hand, run your fingers through his hair, anything. It burned deep inside you with a smouldering heat, sending goosebumps over your sweaty skin.

You felt your hand lift, slowly reaching for his now blushing face. But you couldn't bring yourself to touch him. It felt too intimate. This whole situation felt too fucking intimate. If the two of you were alone, who knows what you'd have allowed yourself to do, but there were too many people here, and you felt at least someone's eyes on you. And everyone here knew how Hyunjin usually traded you. So you dropped your hand again and instead opted for a "thank you" that came out as a hoarse whisper.

Hyunjin blinked at you, searching your eyes, glancing at your lips and eventually getting back up to his feet. He gave you a nod, which felt oddly inappropriate for what had just happened. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared out of the room. You were left with a pounding heart, racing mind and sweaty hands. You gulped down the rest of your water, as if that could smoulder the blazing fire inside you. As if that could cool down your heated body, as if it could wash away these unearthed emotions. Deep down you knew they’d been lingering for a long time now. Deep down you knew you’d wanted Hyunjin to be more but he hadn’t been. He’d been a bully. It didn’t make sense. 

***

You: SOS I’m so confused, I need help Minho: About what? You: Hyunjin Minho: :)  Minho: Our place, 7pm, bring take out

When you arrived, after showering at the studio and picking up the food, Minho opened the door with a knowing smirk on his face. He took the bags of food from your hands and made space for Jisung to hug you, before all three of you settled in their living room. “So, what happened?” You could feel Minho’s eyes on you, as you nervously fiddled with the hem of your sweater. You were hungry, but also pretty sure, that nothing you'd eat right now would stay down. 

You hadn’t told them about that night yet. It had freaked you out too much to even really process it yourself. And you hadn't seen Minho much at the studio either - he was busy with his dance classes and you were busy with the competition. But after today, after the picture of Hyunjin kneeling before you, giving you boba eyes, had burnt itself into your mind, you had to tell them. You needed an outside perspective. 

“Remember your anniversary?”, you asked. “Very much”, Jisung grinned, but you waved him off. “Well, I went to get my bag after I left the two of you and Hyunjin was still in the room, practicing. And then…” You proceeded to tell them everything. How the man who had been picking on you for almost the entire time you knew him had ended up so painfully close to you, that you had almost…kissed? You weren’t even sure that was what he had wanted. But you did know that he had looked at you like Minho looked at Jisung. And you’d been drawn to him like Jisung was drawn to Minho. 

You also told them about the events that had transpired only a few hours earlier that day. And about those weird days in between the two events, where neither of you had known how to act around each other. Both of them listened, Jisung stuffing his face with the food you’d brought, and Minho just smiling. When you were done, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I just don’t understand what’s happening! Why is he looking at me like that all of a sudden?” Minho chuckled. “Oh, he’s been looking at you for a while.” 

You blinked at Minho. "I mean, sure", you said after taking a beat, "he's been glaring at me." Minho chuckled. "That's when you looked at him, kitten", he said, "but I saw him when you didn't look." "What's that supposed to mean?" Minho shrugged. "If you ask me, he has a big fat crush on you. The man was making heart eyes at you every damn day.” Again, you had to blink repeatedly to process the information. "What?!"

"No, think about it", Jisung weighed in, "He though you two were dating" - he gestured at Minho and you - "and then he finds out you aren't and suddenly he's not being an asshat anymore. Kinda sus if you ask me." You looked between them trying to understand where this conversation was going. Hyunjin having a crush on you seemed like the most ridiculous thing you ever heard. It also made your heart flutter.

"But he was always so mean!", you said, looking helplessly at Minho. "And when did that start?", he asked, "Do you remember?" You did, in fact, remember. You remembered your first dance class with Minho. You remembered tripping over your own feet during a spin, landing face first on the floor. You remembered Minho hurrying to your side, asking if you were okay, using his usual nickname for you. Kitten. You remembered Hyunjin calling you out on your "two left feet" for the very first time when he was passing you on his way out of the room that day. 

"Oh my god." You buried your face in your hands as it all slowly came together. Hyunjin, who had liked you from the very start. Hyunjin, who'd been disappointed, maybe even hurt, that you dated Minho - which you didn't, of course, but the damage was done. Hyunjin, who found out about his misconception and immediately stopped mocking you. Hyunjin, who instead wanted to be close to you, now needing to fix what he'd broken over time. Hyunjin, who most definitely had a crush on you. And you, who were most definitely feeling the same exact way.

♥--------♥--------♥

Fenya’s Masterlist

[kitsunexgari]

Summary: Byung-hun comes in for a photoshoot where you are working as an assistant. The head photographer is running pretty late and asks you to keep him busy. You soon find out he can't keep his hands off of you. Tags: Public Sex, Fantasy, Mild Exhibitionism, Light Dominance, Some Dirty talk Disclaimer: This is not meant to depict real people, places, or events. Story contains adult themes and all participants in these activities are of legal adult ages. Story content is not suitable for minors. Read with caution.

You have not been an assistant for long but even so, the job is very tiring. Rewarding but tiring. Initially, you thought that maybe you would be more involved with the process of taking photos. Actually taking them. Instead, you work for a pretty nightmarish and controlling witch who has to have everything just right in order to shoot a set of photos. Still, she is one of the best in the business. Clients of all walks of life, including celebrities, are constantly coming through the studio. You know that you can make some important contacts here and learn more skills to build a great reputation of your own. You learn to work with it because you know it will work better for you in the long run. 

One day she is running late. She calls you to tell you that you are going to have to take care of her next client for an hour or so because there is heavy traffic on the way back from her location shoot which she didn't take you on. You don't get to go on many of those because she always wants someone in the studio just in case. It's not too bad as it gives you time to practice your own work and take care of other things that need to get done. You assure her that the client will be well handled and there is nothing to worry about. You have done this many times before, after all. Just as you are hanging up, he walks into the studio and looks right at you. 

You hadn't had time to check the books to see the name of the client coming in and you didn't expect it to be him of all people. Someone that you have spent more hours fantasizing about than you ever want to admit. Byung-Hun. You already feel a blush rise up on your cheeks as he approaches your desk. 

"Good afternoon, sir." You say softly, unable to look directly at him. 

"I'm here to see Anastasia." 

"Yes, she's running a bit late. There was an accident and some traffic but I can take care of you until then. If you don't mind waiting." You tell him quickly, "Can I get you a drink?" 

"Sure, I have some time," He says going to take a seat on the couch, "Just a bottle of water or whatever is easiest." You nod and walk across the room to grab one of the bottles chilling in the fridge then come back to him and hold it out slowly. He takes it from you with a very charming smile and you hurry back to your desk trying your hardest not to stare at him. You sit behind your computer and try to look busy but you are worried about him getting bored with waiting. Anastasia doesn't like angry clients. She says that gives them a bad aura when she's trying to shoot. 

"I am sorry about this, it's not typical for her." You try to assure him. 

"It's fine, really, not in a hurry today." He says and glances at the TV that is on the wall in the waiting area. 

"The remote is, over there." You tell him and motion to where it is sitting on the table by the couch where he is. "At least it will give you something to do, right?" 

"Thanks." He says and picks it up. Since you don't have any clue what to actually talk to him about and fear you may say something very stupid if you have to keep talking to him, you attempt to focus on other work you have to do. Forms you need to fill out and clients that you have to email. 

You can't focus. Not only is he right there on the couch in front of you, you can smell him. It's intoxicating. You find yourself staring in his direction periodically before forcing yourself to look away. That is until the moment he catches you doing it. You panic and quickly look back down at your keyboard but he gets up and walks over to the desk, placing his hands on it, tapping his fingers lightly over the top of the wood. 

"I know that look," he says. 

"What look? I was just checking to make sure you were comfortable, sir." You say, unable to look at him once more. 

"Come on," He says, "You think I don't get that look a thousand times a day? I know what it means...I just usually don't get it from girls as cute as you." You are surprised to hear that and look up at him in shock. He thinks you're cute? Why is his voice so low and sensual? You lick your lips as suddenly your mouth has gone dry even if other places have become much wetter. 

"Cute?" You manage to choke out. 

"Oh yeah," He says and leans in to stroke your cheek, running a thumb over your lips softly, "Why keep fantasizing about it when you have the real thing right here in front of you?" All you are able to do is let out a soft squeak because you can't believe this is really happening. Can it be? You have to be dreaming again. That or the stress of this job has caused you to go completely insane but, does that matter right now? You aren't sure that you care. 

"You're serious?" You ask him. 

"Very serious, been awhile for me too...get so busy and lonely. This life isn't all it's cracked up to be and didn't you say she's running late?" He asks. 

"Yes but," 

"Shhh," He presses a finger over your lips gently and you go silent. You have no desire to contradict him and you are supposed to take care of as well as entertain the clients right? It would be bad for business if they got bored and left. "Stand up, come on." You nod stupidly and get to your feet. He looks you over before stepping around the desk and pulling you towards him. With a hungry glint in his eyes he captures your mouth in a kiss. His lips are much more soft and perfect than you could have ever dreamed of. 

When he pulls back you just stand there, staring at him breathlessly. He quickly shoves a few things off of your desk, grabs you by the hips and bends you over it. His hands run over your back to your skirt which he shoves up over your ass, gives it a nice firm slap with his hand causing you to yelp. His hand moves over the back of your thighs and between your legs. You mewl softly, when you feel his fingers on the crotch of your already soaked panties as he starts to tease you with those perfect fingers. 

"You really do want this, don't you?" He leans down to purr in your ear. 

"More than anything..." You gasp. He chuckles softly and slides your panties down, pressing your head to the desk as he unzips his pants. You can hear it but can't quite see what he's doing. Not that it matters, you wouldn't even care if you were blind folded. He moves in closer, you can feel him teasing your opening with his cock, which only gets you to moan, then whine, before he thrusts in. Firmly yet some how still very gentle. You groan and close your eyes as he starts to to move. Each time he thrusts he gets in a bit deeper. One hand holds your hair tightly, the other grasps your hip, enough that you are sure his fingers will leave bruises on your skin but you welcome that more than anything. 

"Like this?" He purrs breathlessly as he moves. He's good at this, far more than you could have dreamed up yourself. Even your own fantasies aren't this good. You close your eyes and moan again. 

"Yes...harder....please?" You beg. He starts to speed up, seemingly hitting every right place inside of you. Pleasuring nerves you weren't even sure you had. You hear him moan and a shiver runs through you, he starts to work his hips faster. You rock back towards him as the intensity rises. The heat inside of you, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the waiting room as he fucks you nice and hard. 

"Are you close? Huh? Going to cum all over my cock like a good girl?" He breathes. 

"Y-Yes...fuck...please let me cum!" You cry, wanting nothing more than that. He starts to pound into you at a feverish pace until you hit your climax and cry out. Your cunt clenching around his cock as you hear him groan loudly, one last time, as he cums too. His motions erratic, kind of jerky, he all but collapses on you, breathing down your neck as he licks and kisses at the skin there for a moment before pulling back. You feel him slip out of you and whine. You know you're going to miss that and it will be hard for anyone to top ever again. 

By the time you recover so you can grab your panties and make yourself decent again, he's already headed back to the couch. A grin on his face as he sits down and grabs his water bottle. You look at him bashfully as he takes a sip. Then you clear your throat, knowing that you are going to have to excuse yourself to get cleaned up. 

"I uh...should get cleaned up." You tell him sheepishly. 

"Alright," He says, "But don't stray too far, might have to go for round two if Anastasia keeps me waiting any longer." 

[belovedhoon]

soft spot

paring: yunho x f!reader fandom: ateez wc: 2.7k contains: angst, smut, fluff taglist: @shypen @st1llm0nster

synopsis: every time you walk into a room you captivate everyone there, yet you never give them the time of day. everyone’s attention is on you, but the one person you crave the most never seems to acknowledge your presence. you know he knows you exist, he’s your bodyguard after all but he never gives you the attention you crave from him. but it’s little things he does that give you a tiny hope that maybe just maybe he feels even a little bit of what you feel but then he goes back to being cold again/

fic under cut >>>>>>

It’s all a little cliche for the ‘rich’ girl to fall in love with her bodyguard, but in those stories, he loves her back… that's not the case for you. You would do anything for that to be true but it’s not. You are so truly in love with Yunho that it hurts. It hurts because you know he doesn’t feel anything towards you besides his obligation to protect you. You have seen the way he looks at girls and you can’t help but want him to look at you that way, but you know that will not happen, Yunho takes his job way too seriously to let feelings get in the way even if he did have feelings for you which you’re positive he doesn’t. Your heart breaks. After all, you know that he will never be yours, and that tears you apart because you like to imagine what it would be like if you and Yunho were together, and when reality hits it hurts that much more. You know that Yunho knows you have feelings for him but he never acknowledges the thought and ignores the idea. You would do anything for Yunho to love you back.

“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Your best friend Wooyoung grumbles out and that breaks you out of your depressive thoughts. You look up at him and his face softens. He knows all about your feelings for Yunho and feels for you. Your gaze falls back on Yunho who is flirting with a girl not too far away, Wooyoung’s eyes follow your line of sight and he sighs sadly. It hurts him to see you so torn up over Yunho.

“Y/N…let’s go do something fun tonight. We can go to that new bar that’s close by!” Wooyoung says trying to get your mind off of Yunho. You look back over to Wooyoung and sigh. You shake your head in disagreement.

“I don’t know Woo, I don’t really feel like going out tonight…besides I have to work on my speech for that charity event that mom put me in charge of.” You say to your best friend. Wooyoung clicks his tongue in disagreement.

“Y/N you need to get out of the house and do something fun! Plus I already know you’re done with the speech, I went over it with you remember?” Wooyoung lets out matter-of-factly. You groan, knowing he’s right, of course, he’s always right. So you reluctantly agree to go out with him to the new bar. Wooyoung cheers catching the attention of Yunho who just glares at him. Yunho makes his way over to the both of you.

“You guys good?” Yunho asks looking at you specifically. Your eyes light up when you make eye contact with Yunho. You nod your head and Yunho just stiffly nods his head in agreement before walking away, but staying close enough to you just in case, even though you’re in the safety of your own estate. You sigh again, lately, that’s all the conversation you get out of Yunho now. Wooyoung watches the whole interaction in disdain. He thinks you both are so ignorantly in love with each other but both are too dumb and scared to say anything to the other. He can see how much you love Yunho, everyone can honestly, whereas with Yunho he can see it in the way Yunho will do anything and everything for you. He can’t help but wonder what’s holding him back from confessing to you. Wooyoung wonders how he can get one of you to confess to the other. He mulls over what he should do. He comes to the conclusion that it will probably be easier to get Yunho to confess if he can make said man realize that he can easily lose Y/N if he doesn’t speak his truth soon. With that lingering thought Wooyoung comes up with a plan to save his idiot best friend’s and a grumpy bodyguard’s hearts.

It’s about 11:58 pm right now, or so you think because the last time you looked at the time was about 8 minutes ago and that's when the clock said 11:50. Wooyoung was supposed to be here at 12 and you still couldn’t find the jacket you always wear when you go out. A few minutes pass by as you’re still looking for that damned fur jacket when you hear a soft knock at your window. ‘Shit, he’s already here’ you think to yourself. You sigh dramatically, wandering over to your window and opening it to gesture Wooyoung inside before someone sees him. He walks through the giant sliding glass window and stands before you.

“So, are you ready to go?” Woo asks, his hands on his hips as he inspects your outfit with an approving smile. You sigh, running your fingers through your hair frustrated.

“I would be if I could find my stupid jacket!” You say annoyed. Wooyoung smiles and then laughs at your irritated expression. You just glare at him, finding his amusement rather annoying.

“You’ll be fine without it! It’s cold out!” Wooyoung exclaims. “Now let’s go before your guard dog hears us and bursts through that door!” Wooyoung laughs, gesturing you towards the window he came through earlier. You sighed once more and nodded defeated, walking towards the window with Wooyoung in tow. You two opened the window, looking to see if anyone was watching, and then slid out and sprinted down the long grass path to the concrete sidewalk and curb where Wooyoung’s sleek black car was parked. You two got in and he started the car up and began to drive down the road.

When you got to the object of your destination, you took in your surroundings and noticed all the fluorescent neon signs and lights everywhere and smiled. It was so intriguing to you and you were glad you had Wooyoung here with you to experience this. Wooyoung parked the car and you two got out, Wooyoung grabbed your hand so that you two didn’t get separated from each other. The both of you show the bouncer your IDs before heading inside the large building. As you made your way inside, the vibrations from the music resonated within your bodies and you could feel excitement rise within you. Wooyoung looked at you and said something about the two of you getting some drinks, so you two made your way to a private booth. When you got to the booth you noticed there was an ordering system, making the situation much more private and comfortable. Wooyoung placed an order for you two and a few minutes later some fruity-flavored drinks made their way toward you two on the conveyor that was by the ordering system.

“This place is so high-tech!” You exclaimed to Wooyoung. He smiled and nodded his head.

“I knew you’d like it!” Wooyoung said excitedly. You just smiled brightly and hugged him in appreciation. You two sipped on your drinks and chatted for a while, then choosing to eventually dance together. As you two were dancing, you were suddenly pulled away from Wooyoung abruptly. You looked up to see Yunho fuming at you. You let out a shocked ‘Yunho?!’

“Why the hell did you leave without telling me? Do you know how much trouble, we both could have been in?” Yunho barks out, pissed. You shudder at his stern tone.

“I just wanted to have some fun with Wooyoung…” You started but were cut off by Yunho.

“Fun?” He scoffs before continuing. “Of course you did, you could have told me. Anything could have happened to you.” Yunho said sternly. You sighed feeling guilty. You nodded your head in defeat.

“We’re going now. Goodnight Jung.” Yunho said to Wooyoung, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him. For him to be so angry, he was holding your hand so gently. As Wooyoung watched you two leave, he couldn’t help but smirk as he could clearly tell that Yunho was worried yes but he was more jealous when he saw you were with him. Maybe this whole ‘plan’ will be easier than he thought.

As you got to Yunho’s black SUV, he opened the passenger side, helping you in before walking to the drivers side and getting inside. You could tell he was still upset, but honestly so were you, you are a grown woman and you shouldn’t have to ask permission to do things. How’d he find you anyways…

“How did you know where I was anyway?” You asked with an attitude. Yunho’s eyes found yours matching the fire in yours with his own. He sighed, taking a deep breath to try to calm himself.

“I saw you and Wooyoung running down the yard. You’re not as quiet as you think. I followed you two here.” Yunho said gruffly. You processed his words and scoffed.

“Is your job really that important to you that you can’t even let me have fun?” You asked sarcastically.

“No, you’re important to me. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” Yunho blurted out, his eyes widening at his confession, cursing himself in his head for saying too much, so he started the car and began to drive towards your estate. You slowly processed his words, shocked at what he just said.

“W-What do you mean by that?” You stuttered out. Yunho sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He stopped at the red light before he turned to you.

“It doesn’t matter at this point. Forget I said anything.” Yunho said stiffly. He turned back to the road as the light turned green and he made his way down your road. It was your turn to be pissed now.

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like you always do. You know what doesn’t matter? My feelings for you. It’s foolish of me to love a man who clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. You know what’s funny? Wooyoung is convinced you feel the same way. But he’s so obviously wrong.” You finally say letting out your frustrations. Yunho pulls up to your house and parks in the driveway, but both of you remain seated.

“You don’t mean that. You’re drunk Y/N.” Yunho says, his voice strained. You scoff once more.

“I’ve barely had one drink, since you interrupted, but yeah lets go with that.” You say, getting our of the vehicle and slamming the door before storming towards the front door. Yunho gets out following behind you, as you open the front door and heading up the stairs to your room.

“Y/N! Wait a minute dammit,” Yunho calls after you, but you just ignore him. Right when you’re about to slam your bedroom door shut he stops you and pushes it back open.

“Yunho I don’t wan-” You start, but you’re cut off by Yunho smashing his lips on yours. You let out a noise of surprise before kissing him back with fervor, trying to convey how you feel about him, in your kiss. After a while, he breaks away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours. The two of you stare at each other as you catch your breath.

“I’m in love with you too Y/N… I’m sorry for making you feel that you couldn’t trust me.” Yunho says sincerely. You look up at him with tears in your eyes and Yunho cups your cheek and kisses you softly once more. He gently lays you to lie on your back with him leaning over top of you.

“Is this okay love?” Yunho whispers, asking for your consent to keep going. You nod with a whispered, “Yes, Yunho please.” Yunho nods and begins to trail kisses down your neck, stopping to leave a mark a the base of your neck. He unbuttons your shirt slowly exposing your flesh to him. He leaves wet kisses down your torso until he gets to your short skirt, that’s when he slides it down your hips, dropping it on the floor beside him. He leans forward and looks up at you from between your thighs, causing you to let out a moan at the sight. Yunho’s gaze drifts down to your drenched lace panties which are nearly transparent with how wet you are. He groans at the marvelous sight, before he blows over the center of them, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Yunho grabs the soaked garment and drags it down your legs before returning his face back to your core. His eyes darkened at the scent of you. He brings his fingers to your folds and parts them before bringing his tongue to your clit and flicking it harshly. You whine as your hands reach down and grab his hair. This causes Yunho to look up at you and smirk at your already-gone expression. He brings two fingers to your entrance teasing the hole there before finally sinking them inside, moving his tongue back to your clit and flicking it repeatedly as he thrusts his fingers. You couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of you even if you tried with how good Yunho was making you feel. Just as you could feel yourself about to cum, Yunho pulled away, you let out a frustrated whine.

“I want you to cum on my cock Y/N,” Yunho said sultrily. He then pulled his shirt off over his head and ripped his pants down his legs before fully ridding you of your shirt and climbing on top of you. He teased his thick mushroom tip up and down your slit, sliding it from your entrance to your clit before finally placing himself at your entrance again and pushing inside slowly to let you adjust to his thick size.

“Yunho, you’re so big..Oh!” You whimpered out, trying to adjust to his size. He just shushed you and held onto your hands to ground you. He continued to push his long girthy cock inside you until he bottomed out. He stayed still so you could adjust.

“Shh baby, you can take it…good girl baby,” Yunho said gently coaching you through the feeling. Once you were ready you nodded to Yunho to signal he could move, and when he started to move you couldn’t help but gasp as he gradually picked up his pace. You could feel your high starting up again after being edged earlier and Yunho could tell by the way you were clenching so tightly on his throbbing cock.

“C’mon princess, cum for me. Cum on my cock, you can do it.” Yunho encouraged, bringing his hand to your clit and rubbing it, which was enough to bring you over the edge. Yunho groaned as he felt you soak his cock and clench down on him. This caused him to move faster to reach his own high. You whined in overstimulation as he harshly moved his hips to chase his own release. You could feel another high coming as he continued to move his cock in and out of you.

“I’m gonna cum again Yunho! Please!” You screamed out. Yunho nodded his head and let out a groan as you clenched on him harshly as you came, causing him to follow suit and shoot his load inside you, painting your walls white. He collapsed on top of you before rolling off of you and pulling you into his side as he pulled a blanket over the top of the both of you. It was silent for a few minutes while you caught your breath. Yunho leaned over and kissed you, when suddenly you heard a voice, causing you two to pull away at the sudden sound.

“Please don’t go again…at least wait until I can give Y/N her purse back!” Wooyoung exclaimed mortified at the thought of you and Yunho going another round. Yunho’s eyebrow rose at Wooyoung’s words, while you were sitting there horrified.

“Oh uh, just uh leave it on that desk…” You finally let out embarrassed. Wooyoung nodded, placing the purse on the desk and then walking out, muttering something about “This is not what I meant when I said I was gonna get them together…” As you heard the front door shut you and Yunho let out breaths of relief before bursting into laughter. ‘I guess Wooyoung was right. I’ll have to thank him (and apologize) when I see him again.’ You thought to yourself before you and Yunho drifted off to sleep.

[izavella21]

This book. This book right here. I love it. I love it a lot. Here are some reasons why:

The narration style. I remember when I first read this book, there were so many moments where I'd read a line and think "so relatable". Tori, why are you so relatable?

Tori and Charlie's relationship. I think it's not that common to see a wholesome sibling relationship, so I'm glad that was included in this book. (Also, I don't know if it's just me, but I feel that we don't really see that a lot in Heartstopper)

Tori and Charlie both saw the signs of each other's decline in mental health, and regret never doing anything about it. And they both assure each other that despite the mental health struggles, and despite not doing anything about each other's mental health struggles, they still love each other and care about each other.

There's a scene where Lucas gives Tori a can of Sprite, and Tori mentally notes that it isn’t the drink she likes. Later in the book, Micheal gives Tori diet lemonade, which is the drink she likes. And the beats of these two scenes are very similar.

Also, after Lucas gives Tori the sprite, she asks him about the books he has, and one of them is The Great Gatsby. When Tori asks him what’s it about, he answers “It’s about someone who's in love with a dream." You don't say...

(Basically, I think those two scenes are meant to show that Lucas is in love with idea of Tori, while Michael loves Tori as she is. Lucas goes about his relationship with Tori in the "wrong" way, while Michael goes about it in the "right" way)

The way Tori’s depression was handled felt so…candid for lack of a better term. I feel that depression and suicidal thoughts/ideation is something that is tricky to get right. I think Solitaire is a good depiction of depression. A believable one at least. One where you're able to empathize with the character.

Michael Holden. Just, Michael Holden.

I don't know about others, but I've always read Tori and Micheal's relationship as queerplatonic. You never see that in fiction, so I appreciate it.

The story takes place in winter, and there are so many moments when Micheal shows up in a t-shirt, or otherwise light clothing, and Tori wonders at various points if he’s a human furnace.

Meanwhile, there are multiple lines where Tori is described as a “ghost” or as “cold”.

Nick Nelson beating up Ben Hope. Do I condone violence? No. Do I condone violence towards Ben Hope by Nick Nelson? Absolutely.

The scene where Tori's not having a good day, and Michael comes over to her house to spend time with her so that she isn't alone. In their phone conversation before that, Michael says that Tori reminds him of "an old person who lives alone, like, with cats and daytime television." Michael also seems like the type of person who would keep old people company.

The scene where Tori realizes Michael wanted to invite her to one of his races, a really important one at that, and the minute she realizes this, she instantly books it to the rink. She wasn't planning on doing anything that day, but the minute she learned that Michael had something important going on, she dropped everything to be there.

I think every scene focused on Tori and Micheal is amazing.

To this day, it amazes me that Alice Oseman wrote and published this book at the age of SEVENTEEN!

There was the right balance between dark and mature elements and more wholesome ones. I'd say that's the case for all of Alice Oseman's work, but especially Solitaire, which is considered the darkest. I feel that's a tricky balance to strike, and I felt that Solitaire, even the original iteration, strikes that balance well.

This book has short chapters, and I think that makes it easy to read.

I love the audiobook. I mean the old audiobook narrated by Jayne Entwistle. I've listened to the new one narrated Jenny Walser, and it's good, but I think I prefer the old one. It's so pleasant to the ears. I love her voice.

Thank you for reading!