#re-reading this and I want to make my tone clear

[mesetacadre]

Regarding your post on Stalin and Lenin, I want to ask in good faith: how can honest Communists, in good conscience, acknowledge the material harm and the death tolls of the deportations of the Crimean Tatars, Soviet Koreans, and Chechens + Ingush carried out by Stalin's administration?

I at least understand why Marxist-Leninists dispute calling the Holodomor and Kazakh famines genocides, on the grounds that they came about as a mix of failed policy, bad weather, and unintended consequences.

However, while Stalin's influence on the Famines is debatable, allowing the deportations to be carried out (which DO constitute a genocide) must certainly fall on his head. This is doubly so because Lavrentiy Beria - the principal architect of the Crimean Tatar and Chechen deportations - was a close ally of Stalin.

A big reason I ask this is because I frequently see other communists either gloss over the material harm of these deportations, or treat them as a regrettable footnote in an otherwise proud career. I find both approaches problematic, because I do not see them as an honest assessment of Stalin's wrongdoing with regards to ethnic minorities within the Soviet Union.

I thank you for your time, and I look forward to reading your assessment, should you chose to answer it. Have a good day.

[context]

I'll get to the ask itself in a moment, but first I want to point out how you're doing exactly what the post you're replying to is criticizing, how every mistake and imperfect policy of the USSR between 1924 and 1953 is scapegoated to Stalin. You're ignoring both the very important structures of democracy and accountability within the party as well as in the administration of the state. He wasn't a dictator and policy was not a direct extension of the man's thoughts. The party leadership was a collective organ made up of at least a dozen people, of which Stalin was simply the chairman, with the same vote as everyone else. And every single one of these members were beholden to democratic recall at any time.

Let's start on the common ground, we understand that the famine which struck Ukraine, southern Russia and western Kazakhstan in the early 1930s has a context of cyclical famines, grain hoarding, rushed collectivization, and bad weather. There has been a strong effort on the part of capitalist powers to both exaggerate the effects of the famine and to place it all with intent to exterminate Ukranians specifically. The policy of collectivization and antagonism towards the grain-hoarding rich peasants was one approved by and carried out by hundreds of thousands of people, if not millions. We can debate the degree of maliciousness, the severity of its effects, etc. But what is indisputable once you know just a little of how the USSR worked, to pretend that it could all be carried out by Stalin's sole will is absurd.

And what is the context of the deportations? The fascist invasion of the USSR. This is an extraordinary circumstance, every facet of the USSR was being attacked and threatened with sabotage. It wasn't even the first time they had had to deal with internal sabotage, like it was revealed in the trials following the assassination of Kirov. Throughout the 30s, Nazi Germany's strongarm diplomacy was practically enabled by their ability to create fifth columns, to instigate conflict and to infiltrate. They were in the process of setting up a coup d'etat in Lithuania when, with only a week to spare, it was voted that Lithuania would join the USSR. So, the fear that, as the front advanced, the nazis would do everything in their power to turn the tapestry of nationalities close to the front against the USSR, wasn't only unfounded, it was certain. Fascists are also quite famously brutal against the minorities in the territories they conquered. Their modus operandi whenever they captured a population was to kill any elected leaders and start to instigate anti-semitism.

This was the rationale that drove the policy of resettlement. It was a rushed wartime decision, such was the context, and people definitely died unnecessarily in transport. They decided that the negative consequences of resettlement outweighed the risk of sabotage, destroyed supply lines, and of a completely certain brutal destiny for these minorities if the front advanced past them. It was not a genocide, and it had nothing to do with whatever personal relationship you think Stalin had with Beria. (As a tangent, in this interview, Stalin's bodyguard said that Beria was "neither his [Stalin's] right hand man or left hand man"). I reiterate though, the personal relationships of one man did not dictate the policy decided on democratically by the CPSU.

I don't see the problem in understanding the context of these decisions and understanding the rationale behind them without kneejerking into discounting Stalin's competency. It's very easy to criticize a decision with 80 years of hindsight, without the pressure of the largest land invasion ever carried out advancing steadily. You can't understand the policies of a country containing hundreds of millions of people and hundreds of nationalities through the lens of a single man's personal failings, especially in wartime. Admitting these mistakes, but understanding the context in which they were made, is the only way to learn from other attempts at developing socialism. What is not productive is to insist on pinning every mistake, every unnecessary pain, every inefficiency, as the wrongdoings of a single man. It's dishonest to both the past, and to how communists organize today.

[adviceformefromme]

How to re-programme your subconscious mind…(tried and tested)

When the retreats don’t seem to have a lasting effect, you’ve done therapy, prayed, been to see healers, meditated��� but for the life of you, stilllll have wounds so deep that they might appear to be resolved but the moment you meet someone who is wow you suddenly feel unworthy. Maybe not even suddenly, but your relationship wounds are running deep. Relationships trigger you. You end up feeling the same 90% of the time. Unlovable, unwanted, and rejected. The key to remember is that it started with you. With the mind, with your thinking. At whatever point in your childhood (or even later) you took on the belief that you're not worthy, your needs were not met. You took on behaviours that play out still to this day. Maybe it was hiding yourself, maybe it was lashing out? Whatever it is, the same way it started with you, with your thinking, with your processing of events. Is the same way you heal your self. Here are some steps: 

1] Forgiveness. Forgiveness is going to free you from your past. Write a list of all the people and situations that caused you pain from your earliest memory to this very day. Whatever pains are etched in your mind, write them down. Once your list is collated, start going through each scenario, sending love and forgiveness to yourself and whoever was involved. Imagine yourself as a loving carer healing the parts of you that were vulnerable, hurt and not safe. Visualise giving yourself love in each scenario. Creating peace. Once you’ve been through a scenario and feel truly at peace with the situation scribble it out and once you are completely done with the papers you can burn them and set yourself free. (this process can take weeks / months depending how long your list is but it's not to be rushed).

2] Whatever is still lingering, use your journal to clear this out. For example, if I asked you right now if the man of your dreams was to appear.. would you feel worthy? Right now as your are? It might not be a man, it might be a job, a salary. Whatever it is, start challenging your old beliefs. You might not feel pretty enough, you might not feel like you are deserving… whatever it is start questioning old ideas you have about yourself. Challenge them..

3] This is the most important step… Once you’ve done the above. You’ll start to see some themes, maybe in your forgiveness list you realised your voice didn’t matter as a child, and that you were silenced, and that you hid yourself as a way to feel safe…whatever you uncover. 

3.1 - You are going to write a script, in simple terms - something a child would understand and make sense of and you’re going to write out new beliefs to re-programme your mind. Example ‘I am willing to forgive those who hurt me, I am willing to forgive myself for the hurt I went through, I am no longer hiding myself from the world, I am choosing to be seen , to be celebrated, I am allowing my voice to be heard, my true voice, I matter’ - you want to cover all basis. Every old belief about not being enough, you need to re-write.

3.2 - Record yourself on your phone in a very slow peaceful loving tone reading your script. 

3.3 - You need to listen to this recording every single night for at least 1-4 weeks. (It’s usually 21 days, but I did a recording for 1 week on feeling safe and I felt truly healed as if it was a miracle). I was able to LOOP the recording using Mac...I sent the voice recording from my iPhone to my MacBook using airdrop and then opened the sound file in iTunes and pressed repeat. This allowed a short recording to loop all night as I slept. It’s really important to play this on a loop as you want to IMPRESS your subconscious mind with the new beliefs. It’s your own voice, its your own re-wiring. 

I hope this helps! The deeper healing work is crucial if you really want to remove those old wounds that seem to be stuck and not budging!

[wonwoosthetic]

Hi! So I have a newer idea for Daryl that popped up in my mind while shopping today. It's 100% okay if you don't want to write this, though! It is kind of long so I completely understand if you don't feel like writing this 💜

Basically, Daryl meets reader, aka Shane's fiancé, at the quarry and could instantly notice how toxic Shane was to her. She wasn't allowed to really talk to any of the guys in the camp and was forced to do most of the laundry to keep her from interacting with the rest of the group. However, one day while Shane's off doing you-know-what with Lori, Dale sends reader to go hunt with Daryl with a compound bow that he'd found. To Daryl's surprise, she's amazing at hunting and they have a little convo about Shane. They then stumble across Shane and Lori going at it like rabbits but silently retreat, not making a scene. Back at the camp, when Shane returns, reader simply just places the ring back in his hand and tells him they're over. Being free to do what she wants, she starts getting closer with Daryl over the next month or so, and when they get to the CDC, her and Daryl have this cute moment with a few people watching them and then Glenn, in his drunken stupor, makes a comment about what a cute couple they are. Cue the sudden realizations from both sides that they like each other. Can end with a confession or not. <33

a/n – first of all, to everyone who reads this: you better check Krys out! I am absolutely IN LOVE with everything she writes (Daryl and Hazel is my favourite but literally everything is a masterpiece!) second: to get a request from one of my favourite authors on this app here is an ABSOLUTE HONOUR and I truly truly hope that I could somehow reach your expectations!!!! Thank you so much for sending me it, and I really hope you and everyone that reads this enjoys it ˙ᵕ˙ thank you for marking my start in writing for Daryl now too!😊

A little side note: surprise, I still can’t write short stuff, but bc tumblr is a bitch and is messing with long stuff I post, I decided to make 2 parts, so I can truly involve everything I planned, I hope that’s okay!!🤍🤍

masterlist

word count – 7.4k

pairing – daryl dixon x fem!reader, shane walsh x ex!fem!reader (rarely)

warnings – cursing, mentions of sex, infidelity, toxic man

Don‘t Talk To Strangers Or You Might Fall In Love – Pt. 1

Later in the evening, the women gathered down at the quarry once again. With each holding onto a basket of some sort, carrying the laundry of the rest of the camp residents, they had found their usual spot by the water. Their hands were already starting to get wrinkly by the amount of clothes they had to wash - it had only been a couple of days, and there was already a pile of it.

A wince from the oldest woman of the group made all three heads snap towards her, their eye following her carefully.

"Everything okay?" Jacqui asked, stopping mid-movement before she set down the soaked t-shirt she was holding.

Carol was quick to brush off her concerned tone, sending the woman a quick tight smile as she re-adjusted her position on the ground.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she cleared her throat. "Just... a stone."

The other women shared a quick knowing look. Yes, the surface they were sitting on was mostly stone, but not enough to get hurt or even wince the way Carol just did. She must've hit one of her bruises against the hard ground. One of the many that decorated her skin. While some of them she had clearly been able to hide underneath her clothing, the women couldn't help but notice the ones on her arms. And while some seem to fade, it didn't take much longer for new ones to appear just a day later.

"You know," Amy jumped into the conversation. "You... you don't have to share a tent with him." Everybody immediately knowing, who she meant. "You could stay in the RV, or-"

"I'm okay, Amy. Please." Carol's tone made the younger woman stop again, going right back to the task at hand. While you had hoped you'd go back to finish off your work in silence, Jaqui had other plans as she raised the volume of her voice to reach you, who was sitting a little further off.

"Well, speaking of shitty husbands." Getting a scoff out of the older woman. "Where's Shane, Y/N?" A chuckle erupted from Amy. 

"Huh?" Your head shot up at the mention of his name. You found three awaiting pairs of eyes fixed on you, sending an uncomfortable rush down your spine.

"Where's your husband?" Amy repeated the question, her voice holding a slightly more gentle tone.

"He's not my husband. Just... fiancé." You shrugged. "I don't know...," mumbling as you were almost too embarrassed to admit. "He said something about going hunting."

Jacqui let out an annoyed huff of air. "That was hours ago. It's getting dark soon, doesn't he think-"

"I trust him to know how to keep himself safe. He knows what he's doing," you told her mindlessly, pouring the now dirty water back into the river in front of you. 

You knew how most of the group felt about Shane. He had declared himself as the leader of your little group, thinking his status as a sheriff made him the right fit despite some of the eye-rolls and annoyed sighs it had gotten from the rest in return. It didn't seem to bother him, not even a little bit. You had tried to defend him, wanting to explain his plan of action and knowledge to the others, but he had shushed you down quickly. His own stance was enough for him to stand in front of the group of people, promising to lead them well and try to figure out how to move forward in the, what you'd now call, apocalypse.

While he was securing his place as the tough leader, commanding each person around and giving them a set role in the group, you had tried to find a sense of community. If you were to go and travel further with these people, might as well try to create some form of comradery. But that was brought to a halt before you could even truly start. By Shane.

'They're not your friends. They're just random people. We don't know them and we don't gotta know them.' He had told you. You had tried to start an argument, wanting to explain that while you didn't know most of them just yet, you might as well start now if you're going to spend more time in an enclosed area with them. 

'Let's keep an eye out for Lori and Carl. She just lost her husband, for God's sake.' He never really explained just how he knew that Rick was officially dead, but the two members of the Grimes family seemed to be his only concern. The fact that you had known Glenn for a while now and considered him a close friend, almost a younger brother, didn't even register with him. He was just 'another dirty man, just like the rest of them' to Shane. He had made his opinion of the members of your group very clear. They're strangers. If it wasn't about Lori and Carl, it wasn't important. Why you were the one washing their clothes though was still beyond you though.

Jacqui was just about to open her mouth again, not wanting to drop the topic of conversation just yet, but a loud voice from up the quarry got your attention.

"Ya just don't give a shit, ya old bastard!" Daryl's uncanny accent echoed through the open area.

While a deep sigh tumbled from Carol's lips, Amy tried to ignore the fight a few feet away from you and Jacqui shook her head.

"These Dixon brothers, I swear to God... I don't understand why we haven't made them leave yet."

"Daryl's a good hunter," Amy commented quietly with a slight shrug.

"Yeah, and selfish," the older woman spat back, "And Merle? He's nothing but dragging everyone here down."

You decided to leave the scene in silence, not wanting to add anything to the conversation. You believed that everyone had a good reason for acting and behaving the way they were. You'd like to think that your good nature was part of the reason why Shane fell in love with you. Your years of dealing with children coming from troubled families had taught you that there's mostly good in almost everyone, just that most hadn't had the chance to find that side of them yet. In some ways, the Dixon brothers' attitudes reminded you of them. 

Back in the camp, you brought the washing bowl back to where the rest of the clean laundry was already hanging to dry. Before you could go any further, hoping to find some alone time in your tent, Dale's voice made you stop.

"Y/N!"

You looked up at the top of his RV, where he had secured a chair, a small table and an umbrella to keep the sun from frying his skin.

"Hey, Dale," you smiled at the older man, who copied your facial expression. While some had come to find him to be a 'typical grumpy old man' - and by some you mean Shane - you and Dale had gotten closer over the short time you had spent in the group. He reminded you of your dad, who at that point in time was God knows where. You hoped he found a group similar to yours and was trying to find his place in the world you would now be living in.

"You know how to use a bow and arrow, right?" He asked you, remembering the story you had told him.

You nodded, shielding your eyes with one hand as the sun was starting to make them hurt. "My dad taught me a little, why?"

"Look what I found," he grinned before turning around to pick something up. He crouched down, now with a compound bow in his grip as he tried to get it down to you. With quick steps, you got closer, your eyes brightening up at the sight.

"Oh my god... Dale!" Your smile only widened once you got your hands on the bow. You let your hand glide over the metal, finding it to be heavier than expected. It was still in perfect condition, but you couldn't even finish admiring it before your eyes found another item being dropped down at you.

"Those were next to it," Dale added as he handed you a bag holding multiple arrows that were hopefully supposed to go with the bow. He watched your smile as you couldn't take your eyes off the archery tool. "You think you know how to handle that thing?"

"I mean... my dad taught me how to use a longbow, but... can't be that hard, right?"

The older man couldn't even answer you as a scoff erupted from behind you, followed by the familiar scruff voice of Darly.

"Ya think it's that easy." Stating it more than wondering. Knowing not to start a conversation with him unless truly needed, only able to imagine how Shane would react if he found you talking to him, you decided to ignore his comment, focusing back on Dale who seemed to have done the same.

"Where did you find it?" You asked him.

"Oh just... from a house a few minutes away. Thought you could use it."

"I don't know when yet, but... I'll try," you smiled at him.

"How about you go and try it out now?" He suddenly asked you.

His question made your head shoot back up to look at him in wonder. "Now? What do you mean?"

He sighed. "It's gonna get dark soon and Shane and Lori aren't back yet, we should try-"

"Lori?" Her name fell from your lips as you glanced around the area, only finding the youngest Grimes sitting in the grass, entertaining himself with some sticks and stones. "Where is she?"

Dale shrugged. "Said something about finding berries and whatnot-" Another scoff from behind you made him stop to shoot Daryl an annoyed glance. "I think we should try to at least get something to eat for the kids. And if they're not back anytime soon, they won't have dinner."

"What? My huntin' skills ain't enough for you, old man?" The younger Dixon brother shot up from his crouched position on the floor, nudging his head up at Dale, who was clearly annoyed by his attitude.

"A squirrel isn't gonna feed an entire group. Take Y/N with you and try finding something."

"Dale-"

"Shane's not here, honey," he immediately stopped you, apparently already knowing what your argument would be. "I think he'll be okay, knowing you were out finding something to eat for the kids."

"That asshole would rather watch 'em kids die than send her huntin' with any of us!" Daryl spat back, ignoring you standing right next to him.

He turned your head towards him. "Don't talk about him like that." Speaking to him in a much softer tone than he just did, only getting a shake of his head and an annoyed mumble in return before he turned his back towards you, making his way towards the woods. A quick glance back up at Dale made him nudge his head towards the direction the archer had just disappeared into. You could either get sulky and refuse to go with the man who had clearly other interests than to go hunting with you or you could be the bigger person and focus on bringing something into the community. Even if that meant rebelling against your partner's order to stay at the camp and focusing on the laundry in the quarry. You decided on the latter, knowing that he'd find something to get annoyed at one way or another.

With a sigh, you nodded to Dale's proposal and swung the bag of arrows over your shoulder. Turning around to follow the way Daryl had just strutted, your eyes found his silhouette already between the trees. It was uncanny. Anyone could tell it was him. His zero-fucks attitude and his arms just casually hanging by his side- The pop of his hips with each step he took just underlined the sass that man possessed almost making you chuckle.

Unlike a lot of the other members of the group, you didn't necessarily dislike him. His brother was a totally different subject. They were difficult to deal with and most definitely not the teamwork type of personalities - not directly at least. You had noticed the multiple times Daryl would vanish from sight, only to come back a few hours later with a few dead squirrely thrown over his shoulder, that he would then give to the group after skinning them. It was absolutely disgusting, to say the least, but he did his part to be a valuable part of the community, even if he might had been a unique character and more challenging to deal with. 

What Merle's issue was, you had yet to discover, but the man didn't intrigue you enough to bore into his background story.

A good few minutes in, you still hadn't caught up with the archer, his steps being way bigger and faster than yours. Panting, you hoped he would hear you.

"Can you slow down for a second? Please."

Not following your words, Daryl kept up his pace, only turning his head slightly. "Don't need yer husband to see us together out'ere or we'll be the ones rotatin' over the fire instead of a dear."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment, even scoffing loudly at what you had just heard, and mumbling too quietly for him to hear.

Your reaction made him suddenly stop in his tracks and turn his entire body towards you. "What? Ya think I'm kiddin'? I seen the way he talks to ya and everyone else in that godforsaken camp. Treats everyone like shit if it ain' abou' that woman or the kid."

Your glare didn't even intimidate him a bit. Neither did he budge when you took a daring step closer to him.

"How about you focus on yourself and stay out of other people's business? He's trying to be a leader, alright?"

"More like tryna be a dictator. Mussolini woulda loved him." Without another word, he turned around to continue his way further into the woods, leaving you in slight surprise rooted into the ground. A shake of your head and a deep breath brought you back into the present, making you follow him again. You tried to keep the distance between big enough to keep him away from you, let close enough to still have him in view - you sure as hell weren't going to get lost in the middle of the woods.

Looking down to be careful about each step you took, you held onto the strap across your chest. With your view on the ground, you didn't notice Daryl having stopped again, making you suddenly bump into him.

"Oh- sorry." You took a quick jump back.

He had lifted up his arm to the side, keeping you from going any further. Only after looking up, you could follow his gaze, finding what had gotten the archer so enthralled. Between the bushes surrounding you ahead on a tree, there were two chipmunks perked up on a branch. They hadn't noticed you yet and if it hadn't been for Daryl's eagle eye, you had to admit, you would've overlooked them as well.

Suddenly, overly confident, you realised this was the moment you could prove your skill. A skill you hadn't trained for in a few months, but you had long enough training before that, you believed. Swiftly, you grabbed a bow from the bag on your back and took a slow step back, careful not to make any loud noise to disrupt the two animals. Daryl had his crossbow already sitting on his shoulder, his eye trained on the chipmunks as he kept totally still.

"On three," you whispered as you drew the bow in your grip. You couldn't see the archer's slight confusion as he didn't budge, only knowing he had heard you when he suddenly started counting down. As soon as the number 'three' left his lips, you let your arrow shoot through the sky, him going at the exact same time, pressing the trigger on his crossbow. The two bows hit the chipmunks perfectly in sync, making them fall from the branch and onto the floor.

"Yes!" You whispered to yourself in a cheer, brushing past Daryl with a wide smile on your face as you made your way over to where your prey was waiting for you.

The man continued to stand still, only his eyes following your movements as his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Only a few seconds later, he found you standing up straight again, proudly holding up one of the chipmunks. He followed your steps, coming to a stop as he looked down at the other animal still on the floor.

"Was that beginner's luck or...?" He asked you as he gathered it off the ground and took out his arrow before taking its companion out of your hands to put both of them into the small bag he had secured by his hips. Your eyes drifted to his arms. Glistening in the sun behind you. He had been collecting dirt all over his body, but the sweat now on his biceps was making it look only half as bad.

You shrugged, not even trying to hide the small smile still on your lips. "Maybe a little since I haven't used one of these in a while," holding up the compound bow.

"Who taught ya?" In surprise, you glanced at him, not expecting to continue the conversation as you went back to resume your hunting journey through the woods.

"My dad."

You noticed his steps suddenly slowing down again, making you turn towards him in wonder. A finger brought up to his lips told you everything you needed to know. Daryl started looking around carefully, while you just turned in a circle, wondering what he had heard. And then you saw it. A 'geek', as Glenn had labelled them, was making its way towards you.

"How on earth did you hear that?" You whispered at him, but the archer just propped his crossbow up again, ready to take out the thing coming dangerously close towards you. The noises coming from the dead had only then started to register with you too. Maybe it was your hearing turning on you or maybe Daryl had just a trained ear. Realising that he was close to shooting again, you stopped him with a hand.

"Can I?"

With a careful look, he lowered his weapon again, motioning for you to go ahead, bringing a small grin to your face. His hand was quicker than yours as he pulled out a bow from your bag, handing it over to you before leaving you to do your thing. Drawing it tightly, you didn't let a lot more seconds pass before sending the arrow straight through the geek's eye.

"Fuck, yeah-" Grinning to yourself for a split second before you realised the words that had dropped from your tongue. "Sorry," you were quick to apologise, getting a look of pure confusion from Daryl in return.

"What? Ya not allowed to curse or somethin'?" Oh, if he only knew. After years of being with Shane, you had found yourself truly swearing off the usage of any curse words as your fiancé had labelled them 'unladylike', sending you a look of disapproval each time it would escape you accidentally. Strict looks had turned into warnings, which then turned into arguments, so you had just learned to bite your tongue.

You were about to head up to get it back, back Daryl's voice stopped you.

"Stay'ere." He walked past you towards the now truly dead thing to get your arrow back. After ripping it out of its head again, he took a good look around, turning his entire body before coming back to you.

"They're usually not alone," he pushed the arrow into your hands. "Let's see what else we can find and get the hell outta 'ere before it gets dark."

You just nodded in agreement before following him again. This time, you noticed walking side by side with him as he had slowed down his strides.

To you, it seemed like a relatively comfortable silence, but Daryl didn't agree with that apparently as his grunt slashed through it,

"Yer husband know you can hunt?"

A sigh evidently fell from your lips, but you were able to hold back a roll of your eyes. He was trying to keep up the conversation and you couldn't not admit that you quite enjoyed not necessarily having to walk in complete silence. Even if it meant talking about Shane apparently.

"Don't know," you shrugged.

"What d'ya mean, ya don't know? Yer never talked about that? Ain't he supposed to know ya inside out or some shit like that?" You knew, deep down his words held nothing but truth, yet, you had learned to ignore remarks like that, knowing that Shane was just a different kind of partner than most.

"Why should he know about something he's not interested in?" As long as you weren't out on your own and at home in the evening with a homecooked meal waiting for him, he had never truly cared about what you did. Lying, you'd be out with your friends for a few hours while doing something completely different had gotten you far. Him working late hours most days only helped. You never even thought about telling him about the childhood hobby you had started at 8 years old and had carried with you up until well into adulthood. While you had left home as soon as you had turned 18, knowing Atlanta was the place you'd want to study in, archery was one of the things that had kept you connected to home. To your dad.

"That don't sound righ' if ya ask me," he commented.

"Well," you couldn't help but sigh again, "good thing he's not your issue to worry about."

"But he is." His comment made you stop. Daryl was quick to notice you not walking beside him anymore, making him stop and turn. "I gotta worry about him havin' my balls on a stick if he sees me talkin' to ya."

"Then don't!"

"Then why d'ya follow me into the woods, huh?" It looked like you were about to start a fight with Daryl Dixon.

"Because Dale asked me to. Because no one trusts you to do anything good for the group on your own," you spat at him, continuing your way, making sure to bump his shoulder as you passed him.

The archer scoffed, "Yeah because everyone trusts ya lil' husband oh so much to care for every-"

You came to another halt. "He's not my husband! We're engaged, you ignorant fuck!"

"Oh, careful," Daryl eyed you, "What would'e say if he heard ya talkin' like that, huh?" Sending you a provocative look that made you take a deep breath in, trying to contain your anger.

"I think you got a brother to worry about, Dixon. Enough drama there, don't snoop into other people's lives."

That seemed to have done the job as he kept quiet while you walked ahead. It took a few seconds before you heard him behind you again, proud of yourself for leaving him stunned even if it was just for a short moment. You didn't want to snap at him like that, you had to admit. It just came out and if you could take it back, you would've. He wasn't directly snooping, you knew that. You weren't here to make enemies, at least you didn't want to. You desperately wanted to get along with everyone as best as possible. Not meaning that you'd have to become close friends with each person in the group, just good colleagues.

With your mind deep in thought, overthinking every word you had just dropped, you didn't notice the ruffling leaves close by. Not until you felt a tug on your arm that made you stop. Almost annoyed, you turned around, only to find Daryl lifting his finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. At first, you looked at him in confusion but the moment you heard a grunt, your ears perked up as you started to glance around. You had just ran into a geek with the Dixon brother reminding you that they usually travelled in bigger groups, meaning the possibility of another one being close by wasn't that small.

The grunting continued making your frown only deepen. It didn't necessarily sound like one of the dead, you realised. Daryl started moving around slowly and as quietly as possible, you following close behind, keeping ducked down just in case.

Suddenly, you caught another noise. One that sounded less like a grunt and more like a... moan? Clearly just as confused as you, the archer turned around to meet your gaze for a split second. 

With each step the two of you took further, the noises became much clearer. Shuffling leaves, grunts, and clear moans were now hitting your ear. One specific huff of air made a cold shiver run down your spine. It's like your body knew before your eyes could even see it.

Daryl and you hit a raised ground that kept you from seeing where the noise was coming from as you were still crouched down. But as soon as you let your back straighten, every last bit of air left your lungs. You saw the auburn hair spread out on the grass first. Directly next to it, an all too familiar head of black curls, the face deep in her neck, muting the moans coming from him. With each pound, they became heavier and louder. You already knew it. Right as Shane lifted his head though, you could feel yourself wanting to scream. And if it wasn't for the hand suddenly covering your mouth, you would've.

You were pulled onto the ground, back into your crouched position, and dragged back from where you came from. As hard as you tried to fight the grip the archer had on you, it was no use as he was clearly much stronger than you. The leaves and branches brushed against your pants as he kept tugging on you to keep you right up against him, not daring to loosen the hand covering your lip

Once it seemed far away enough for him, Daryl let go of you, letting you fall to the ground completely as you desperately choked up for air.

"You bastard-" You went at him, only for him to cover your mouth once again.

He pulled you in hard. "Ya screamin' 'ere and an entire hoard will hear ya. Keep quiet," he hissed at you in a whisper. You never noticed the soft specks of green that decorated his striking blue eyes. Not until then.

A quick moment of silence followed as your eyes suddenly filled with tears. Daryl's gaze softened immediately, removing his hand from you as if your skin had turned into burning hot metal.

While you had started to sob in the middle of the woods, trying to keep as quiet as possible, the archer didn't know what else to do, but to stand next to you, his eyes fixed on your shaking shoulders. He wasn't the right person to console someone. Nor did he even know how.

"I told ya he's an asshole," he mumbled, clearly not at the right moment as you sent him an angry frown.

"You didn't tell me sh-"

"I tried tellin' ya!" Raising his voice just a bit to turn his tone stern, yet keeping the volume low enough. "I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son."

"I want to go back," you sniffled, feeling your chest painfully tightening.

"Go back to 'em?!"

"Back to the camp, idiot!" You snapped at him, your hand flying up to your chest. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up." Trying to take deep breaths in that just continuously proved to be hard as you only choked up more. Coughing mixed with your sobs, you fell onto your knees, your hand clutching the very top of your chest as you tried to breathe.

"Hey-" Daryl fell onto the ground right in front of you, his rough hands grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you straight, trying to get you to look at him. "Calm down," he strictly told you.

"H-He-" you sobbed, "he... fucked her. He just-", coughing again as the air got stuck in your throat.

"I know- hey-" you lowered your head to look at the ground beneath you, only for Darly to grab your chin and make you look back up again. "He's a fuckin' idiot. Don't cry 'bout him."

"W-What did I do?" You asked, technically hypothetically, as you continued to choke on your own cries. "What do- How?!"

"Ya didn't do anythin'," he tried to console you. "He's a dumb fuckin' bastard. A coward. A stupid mongo-"

"Lori... I-I thought-," stopping yourself again as another sob shot through your body.

"It's okay," Daryl whispered, "don't fuckin' cry for 'em. Ya think they would cry for ya?"

"What about Carl?!" You ignored his comment, instead continuing to throw out whatever came to your head.

The archer shook his head, "That ain' your problem to worry 'bout."

"She- she just lost her husband... a-and now this?!" 

Before Daryl could say anything, you brushed off his hands from your shoulders and raked yourself up.

Still sniffling, you looked around. "We gotta go back." Noticing that the sun had already started to set and no one was supposed to be out in the dark.

With a grunt, he copied you, pushing himself up to stand again while his eyes continued to follow you as you tried to get yourself back together. You could feel his gaze burning holes into your skin, making you look up. Cheeks tears stained, burning read. Your eyes were swollen, still letting single drops of tears escape as you slowly managed to even out your breathing.

"Let's go back." You re-secured the bag and bog on your shoulder before turning around to walk to the camp. A sigh escaped Daryl's lips as he shook his head slightly before jogging up towards you, stopping you with his hands back on your shoulders. He swiftly turned you around, only to let go again, his steps slowing down to let you walk ahead. This time, in the right direction.

The way back was spent mostly in silence, only a few remarks coming from the archer each time he had to tell you to either turn right or left. In no time, you had come back, finding most of the group either already back in their tents or gathered by the SUV. The sun had fully set, now the only source of natural light coming from the soft glow of the moon.

"There you are!" Dale called out as soon as his eyes found you. The smile that had started to spread on his lips fell quickly as soon as you got close enough to him to let him see the dishevelled state you were in. "What happened?" He gasped, but you just shook your head and made a quick B-turn towards your tent. The tent you shared with Shane.

The older man's tone changed quickly, clearly blaming one specific person for your mood as he followed behind you not much later.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Dale snapped at Daryl, only to get a scoff in return.

"How abou' you ask her asshole fiancé." The Dixon brother left him with that, ignoring the looks of the people around them. He opened his satch to take out the two chipmunks you had caught, only to throw them onto a set-up table and disappear down towards the quarry.

In the comfort of the plastic walls, with the bow and arrows set down outside, you had let yourself let go one more time, the tears not needing more than mere seconds before running down your cheeks again. You couldn't continue crying about this.

'Ya think they would cry for ya?'

Daryl's words rang through your mind. You hated to admit that he was most probably right.

Your relationship with Shane wasn't tense. At least until a few months ago. It had always been a little bit more difficult than you would've liked to, but you remembered the words of your mother, saying 'marriage is hard', making you realise that most likely each couple had their fair share of issues to work through. And you and Shane seemed to just have a good amount of those. Either disagreements, discussions, or different ideas and wants. Everything from as simple as the colour of your living room walls, to which state you'd have your wedding in - since your grandma was almost bedridden, you had proposed to have at least the officiant ceremony in Ohio, but Shane was, surprise, against that.

You glanced down at your ring. A gold band, holding a small square diamond right in the middle. It was beautiful. Even though you had always solely worn silver jewellery and had mentioned the classic round diamond as your dream style. Still, you had accepted the proposal. You looked past the smirks he would send waitresses and secretaries. Ignored comments he made about other people in your life. You had even given in and promised him not to get too close to anyone in the group that was right outside.

It was never 'controlling' in your eyes. You didn't know any better. But while you had to lock yourself away, making doing laundry your only form of 'entertainment', he was having fun with a presumed widow. Whereas he had told you and everyone else that he would be spending the day trying to hunt down 'something big'. 

You shook your head. You had all the reasons to leave him already months ago and yet you didn't. A lot of your friends had told you you'd regret marrying him. But he had managed to get into your head, making you think that they were the crazy ones. That all of your 'dumb sorority girlfriends' had no idea what they were talking about.

Comments and stares were one thing you could look past, but cheating... you had to draw the line somewhere. You remembered all the times your college friends came crying into the dorm, sobbing into their pillows as they complained about their boyfriends fucking around with other girls on campus. Everyone would gather and support them with one opinion: dump him. Leave him. He doesn't deserve you.

'I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son.'

There was Daryl's voice again in the back of your head. Screaming at you. If even he could see it, yet you were too blind to realise it...

With one final deep breath in, you gathered the sleeping bag you had claimed for yourself into your arms, along with your pillow. You managed to drag everything out of the tent, suddenly feeling more free than ever.

Looking around, you found no one sitting outside anymore, indicating most had gone to bed, but the light inside the RV made you hopeful. You couldn't sleep in your shared tent tonight. Or ever again. And Dale was your only other choice. With everything packed in your arms, you made your way over to the vehicle, knocking on the door with your foot. Two voices made you look behind you, your face immediately falling when you found Shane and Lori coming back from the woods. They took their goddamn time.

The door opened, catching your attention again. Dale looked at you in confusion but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

Forget about your age. Suddenly, you felt like a little kid again. Too scared to sleep on their own, begging their parents to let them sleep in their room.

"Y/N?" Shane's rough voice called out your name, making your heartbeat quicken.

You looked up at the older man in panic. "Please."

With no hesitation, Dale nodded, stepping aside to let you walk in, ushering you inside with his hand. Daryl's remark from earlier had engraved itself in his brain as soon as he found the sheriff strutting over to his RV in big steps.

"What is she doing, Dale?" He wondered, his voice holding slight anger to it. "Y/N!" He shouted out your name again, but you gave him no response.

The older man stopped Shane from coming any closer.

"You better leave, son."

"What the fuck did I do?!" He unknowingly asked before getting the RV's door closed in his face.

The moment silence took over the enclosed room, Dale turned to you, now sitting on the small sofa.

"What the fuck did he do?"

If there was one person in this apocalyptic world that you had come to trust, it was Dale. He had already let you into his home, he deserved to get a reason for it.

You could already feel the tears filling your eyes again. Both of you ignored the knocks on the door, the old man's eyes fixed solely on you as he sat down by the small dining table, ready to wait patiently for you to answer his question.

"He... he cheated on me...," You couldn't hold back the sob that followed. "With Lori." The added remark made Dale's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He leaned back into his chair, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair as he huffed out a chunk of air.

"Daryl and I- we saw them in the woods-," You let your head fall into the palms of your hand. The old man was quick back on his feet, on his way over to you.

"Oh, honey," sighing out, but stopping as the heavy knocks on the door continued. With an annoyed huff, he rushed over to the door to pull it open.

"Get the fuck away from my RV!" Shouting at Shane, not even giving him a moment to answer as he smashed the door close again.

"I-I don't know what to do." You admitted in sobs, glancing up at the man as he got closer to you, making space to sit down next to you. A comforting arm found its way around your shoulder while his other hand rubbed your upper arm.

"That man doesn't deserve an angel like you," he whispered at you, hoping his calming voice would soothe your cries. "He clearly doesn't know what he lost with a stupid act like that."

"He proposed to me," you showed him the ring in desperation. "Only to cheat on me?"

"What can I tell ya, kid... young men are...," Dale sighed as he shook his head. "Dumb... and blind. They think they own the world."

You continued to sob in the man's arms. Listening to his soft voice as he spoke to you while you kept on your rambles of despair. Why Lori out of all people? You used to go out on double dates with your partners. You had known Rick Grimes for a good few years now. He was a good man. You had thought Lori was a good woman. But there she went, sleeping with an engaged man. The colleague, and best friend of her husband. Who may or may not be dead. Maybe Rick was gone, but you were still there. Only one partner of the cheating couple was widowed. The other part was still very much in a committed relationship. Or so you thought.

"W-What do I do now?" You wondered out loud. "How am I supposed to continue this?" Not necessarily talking about your relationship with Shane, but the situation altogether.

"You don't." Daryl's simple but straightforward answer made you look up. In the meantime, your sobs had quieted down again.

"What?"

"You tell him," he strictly told you. "You tell him what you saw. And you end it. Men like that... they don't change."

"God...," you fell back into the cushions behind you, running your hands down your face as you wiped the tears away. "Was I just... not good enough for him anymore? Why would he do something like this?"

"I wish I could tell ya, honey. But don't think that this has anythin' to do with you," Dale's stern voice made you glance at him. "Men like him don't think. You think he really thought of the possible consequences of his actions?"

You shrugged.

"He didn't. If he did, he wouldn't have done it. And men like don't deserve a second chance. Hell- they don't even deserve a first chance. But they're charming and whatnot, and before you know it, they're havin' their dicks in other women, breaking hearts of the ones that actually care about them."

You decided to stay quiet, letting his words sink in and register with you.

"You don't deserve that, honey."

Nodding your head, you took a deep breath in, wiping your nose. "I know..." With a sigh, you pushed yourself to stand up. "I have to talk to him."

"You sure, you wanna do that tonight?" The man carefully asked you, but you had already made up your mind, so you just continued to nod.

Quietly, you left the RV, of course not before Dale promised to set up a bed for you to stay in inside his movable home. You knew you had found the confidence to face your- Shane. Yet, your shaking legs and hands almost betrayed you. Realising, you didn't even truly think about how to start the conversation, the anxiety inside of you only started to bubble up more, hitting its highest point when you suddenly saw Shane exiting your tent.

His eyes fixed on you in the dark, finding your silhouette coming towards him thanks to the light shining through the RV's windows.

"Y/N-" he started, but you interrupted him right away.

"It's over."

Shane's eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"

"It's over," you repeated, finding your voice slightly shakier than you would've liked to. You glanced down your hands, almost mindlessly, wrapping your fingers around the gold band. Once, the sight of the shimmering ring on your finger made you smile, now it just shot another wave of sadness through your body. Almost shakingly, you took the last step, pulling the gold band off your finger, the metal leaving your skin, making you breathe out heavily.

"Hey- hey," the sheriff rushed closer to you, making you scoot back in reflex. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" You spat at him, a salty chuckle tumbling from your lips. There was a slight change in expression on his face as he lifted his hands in defence.

"Listen-"

"No, you listen," you stopped him again. You didn't even let your brain think about what words were about to fall from your lips. "Don't even try-" You had to stop yourself, taking a deep breath in, trying to promise yourself not to cry in front of the man that you had lost so many nerves to.

"What the hell are you doing?" He continued to ask you, his frown only deepening.

But you just continued to shake your head, ignoring the anger starting to lace his voice. You had seen Shane angry before. Even angry at you. And it scared you. But right now, the anger, you were trying to hold back, should terrify everyone involved in this situation.

Taking a few steps closer to stop right in front of him, you lifted your hand that was still tightly holding onto the ring you had once worn and shown off proudly. Once Shane opened his palm underneath it, you let it drop down.

"It's over." Before he could ask you anything more, you left him with one last comment hanging in the air. "Have fun with Lori."

Turning around, you could hear his heavy huffs and the callouts of your name, yet he didn't even dare to try and reach out to you, leaving you to make your way back towards the RV. In the back, the sound of him knocking over some of the empty cans you had gathered, filled the silence. Up ahead, you found a silhouette standing still, almost scaring you if it wasn't for the distinct stance you were able to recognise immediately. The dim light illuminated Daryl's scowl as he had clearly watched the scene from a distance.

Arrived at the door of the vehicle, you wanted to at least send him a tight smile, a goodnight and somewhat of a thank you, but the archer had already disappeared again in his usual nature.

I CAN‘T WAIT TO POST PART 2🙈🤗🥰 I loved writing this so much omg

this is me officially stating I'm writing for the man that is Daryl Dixon now too :)

[03jyh23]

🌃⌇night, interrupted┆jung wooyoung

neighbor!non-idol!wooyoung x reader ft. non-idol!yeosang

│synopsis: you owe a favor to your annoying neighbor

│genre: enemies to lovers

│trigger warnings: wooyoung and yeosang are bisexual, party-themed, alcohol consumption, mature language, excessive use of ''princess''

│words: 10.4 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

│requested prompts are bold

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! i'm ashamed to confess that this request has been sitting in my inbox since april :( i'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, but i had so many different ideas about where this story should go. i'm thinking about re-opening my requests soon. as always i hope you will enjoy it!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

"What are you even doing here?" you asked, your voice laced with surprise and a hint of annoyance. You had opened the door expecting to see anyone but him. But there he was, Wooyoung, the last person on earth you wanted to see on a Saturday night, or whenever to be honest. He stood there, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against the door frame. His eyes held a playful glint that contrasted with the seriousness of your tone.

"It’s nice to see you too, Y/N" he greeted, his voice light and cheerful. He smiled brightly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, completely unfazed by your cold tone and unamused expression. His nonchalance in the face of your clear displeasure made the situation all the more irritating for you.

"What on earth are you doing here, Wooyoung?" You demanded, your voice was stern and serious. You crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze never leaving his face.

"Oh, as lovely as ever, aren't you?" Wooyoung quipped, rolling his eyes theatrically. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned against the door frame with a nonchalant air. His gaze, however, held an undeniable intensity. "Get ready, we've got places to be," he added, his tone light but laced with an underlying seriousness.

"Wait, what?" You spluttered, taken aback by his unexpected command. "Wooyoung, you can't just barge in here and..." He pushed past you slightly to enter your apartment, his confident demeanor not wavering in the slightest.

"Oh, but I can, and I just did," he replied, brushing past you with a smirk. His audacity left you momentarily speechless as you watched him stroll into your apartment as if he owned the place.

"Excuse me?" you managed to stutter out, turning around to face him. Wooyoung had already made himself comfortable on your couch, his long legs on your coffee table.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," he finally said, "I just thought it'd be nice to spend some time together." You were left speechless once again, your mind trying to process his words. Spend time together? You weren't sure if he was being serious or just messing with you. Wooyoung looked at you from head to toe, judging your old leggings and oversized hoodie, not to mention your messy hair. You had planned to stay in, enjoy some wine, and watch a cringe-worthy romance movie, but he had interrupted your plans. "Are you planning to get ready or are you intending to leave looking like that?" he asked, his voice ringing with a clear note of dislike for your current attire.

"Don’t you have like, you know… friends?" you blurted out, your voice barely masking the irritation that had been simmering within you. As the words escaped your lips, you could feel a rush of heat flooding your body. You were certain your ears were all red by now, the heat of your annoyance manifesting physically. "Actually, I was enjoying my solitude until you showed up." You snapped, your hands on your hips as you glared at him.

Wooyoung simply responded, "Well, you'll have to put that on hold, we have plans."

"Why in the world, among all the people I could possibly have plans with, would you think that I have any intention to spend my time with you?" You retorted, your voice thick with frustration and disbelief. The absurdity of the situation was growing by the minute and the disbelief in your voice reflected your incredulity.

Wooyoung simply shrugged his shoulders, his eyes twinkling with amusement at your evident irritation. A smirk played on his lips as he casually replied, "Because you owe me one." His nonchalant response left you momentarily speechless.

Your mind momentarily went back to the night two weeks ago. Your classes had ended late in the evening, and the rain was pouring heavily. You couldn't believe how, in the span of a few hours, a lovely summer day had transformed into a raging rainstorm. You were wearing light, summer-appropriate clothing, and, of course, you hadn't brought an umbrella. In fact, you didn't even own one. As you stood at the entrance of the university building, the rain came down in torrents, drenching everything in sight. The prospect of walking home in such weather was daunting, and you sighed in frustration, knowing you'd be soaked to the skin by the time you reached your apartment. Just then, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Turning around, you saw Wooyoung, holding a large umbrella that provided a stark contrast to the stormy night. He approached you with a smirk, his usual playful glint in his eyes.

"Need a ride home?" he asked, raising his voice above the sound of the rain. You wanted to reject his offer, wanted to tell him to go away and leave you alone. But as he turned to leave, a teasing grin on his face, you found yourself chasing after him.

"Wait!" you called out, your voice barely heard over the sound of the rain. He stopped and turned back to look at you, an amused smile on his face. You hesitated for a moment before stepping under the umbrella, your body instinctively moving closer to his for warmth.

Wooyoung chuckled softly as you stepped under the umbrella, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I knew you couldn't resist," he teased, holding the umbrella a little higher to shield both of you from the downpour.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "You're lucky it's raining," you muttered, though your tone lacked any real annoyance. As you walked to his car, the rain continued to fall relentlessly, the streets quickly becoming rivers of water. Wooyoung's presence, however, provided a surprising comfort, the proximity of his body heat a welcome relief from the chill in the air. Once you reached the car, Wooyoung quickly unlocked it and held the umbrella for you as you climbed into the passenger seat. He folded the umbrella and slid into the driver's seat, shaking the water from his hair before starting the engine. The warmth of the car's interior enveloped you, and you sighed in contentment, grateful for the reprieve from the storm outside.

Wooyoung glanced at you as he pulled out of the parking lot. "You look like a drowned rat," he remarked with a grin, his tone lighthearted.

You shot him a mock glare. "Thanks for the compliment," you replied sarcastically, but the corners of your mouth twitched upwards.

The drive home was mostly quiet, save for the sound of rain pattering against the windows. When Wooyoung finally pulled up in front of your apartment building, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you stepped out of the car and into the rain, you heard Wooyoung call after you. "You owe me one now!" His voice was playful, but there was an underlying note of sincerity.

"Right, I owe you a favor," you muttered, your annoyance momentarily replaced by resignation. Despite your irritation, you couldn't deny that he was correct. "You could at least have the decency to call ahead."

Wooyoung laughed at that, a genuine, hearty laugh that echoed throughout your apartment. "Where's the fun in that, Y/N?" he retorted, his smile never faltering as he met your gaze.

You sighed, realizing that arguing with Wooyoung was akin to talking to a brick wall. "Fine," you said, throwing your hands up in surrender. "But if we're going out, I need to change. And you," you pointed at him, "need to get your feet off my coffee table."

Wooyoung chuckled but complied, swinging his legs off the table with a dramatic flourish. "Take your time, princess," he said, smirking at your annoyed expression. You rolled your eyes at his comment but nonetheless retreated to your bedroom to change into something more suitable for a night out.

Just as you were closing the door behind you, Wooyoung called after you, "And no leggings!" You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. As you moved towards the mirror, you took a moment to look at your reflection. Your hair was a mess from the day, and you knew it would take some time to style it into something presentable. You sighed, looking at the makeup products scattered across your dressing table. Getting ready for a party that you knew nothing about was indeed a challenge.

"How much time do I have?" you shouted from your bedroom.

Wooyoung glanced at his watch, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's say twenty minutes. Can you manage that?" he called out, his voice filled with amusement.

"How the fuck am I supposed to get ready for a party in twenty minutes?" you shouted back, a hint of panic creeping into your voice.

"Well, I can make it fifteen just for you, princess," Wooyoung laughed, his amusement clear in his voice. Even though he couldn't see you, you rolled your eyes at his comment. The audacity of this man. Despite the irritation bubbling within you, you knew you had to hurry. You started rummaging through your wardrobe for a suitable outfit, cursing under your breath. Meanwhile, Wooyoung lounged comfortably on your couch, scrolling through his phone while occasionally glancing towards your bedroom door.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally emerged from your bedroom. You had managed to throw together a decent outfit, and even though you had rushed your makeup, it didn't look half bad. Wooyoung looked up from his phone as you entered the room, his eyes raking over your figure. He let out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. "Not bad, Y/N. Didn't know you could clean up so well."

You rolled your eyes at his comment but couldn't help the blush that crept up your cheeks. "Whatever, Wooyoung. Let's just get this over with." With a chuckle, Wooyoung rose from the couch, offering you his arm. You looked at him, disbelief and irritation evident in your gaze. His casual demeanor and the playful smirk on his face only added to the absurdity of the situation. You found yourself stuck between wanting to laugh it off and wanting to kick him out. But, swallowing down the lump of frustration in your throat, you pushed his extended arm back. You then reached for the door handle yourself, pulling it open with more force than was necessary. Without a backward glance, you stepped out into the hallway, leaving a rather surprised Wooyoung behind in your apartment.

Wooyoung finally caught up with you, a surprised yet amused expression on his face. "Well, aren't we eager?" he said, chuckling at your obvious irritation. Despite your annoyance, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, a small smile playing on your lips. With a huff, you began to march towards the parking lot, your steps quick and purposeful with Wooyoung following close behind. The glimmer of satisfaction you felt when you heard him struggling to keep up with your pace was short-lived as he effortlessly caught up, a grin playing on his lips.

"Slow down, Y/N. It's not a race," he called out, his voice filled with amusement. You ignored him, continuing your steady pace towards his car. The parking lot was dimly lit, the only source of light being the faint glow from the streetlights. Wooyoung's car stood out against the mostly empty lot. You stopped abruptly in front of it, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited for him to unlock the doors. Wooyoung, still wearing that annoying smirk, took his time in reaching the driver's side. He pulled out his keys, twirling them around his finger in a show of nonchalance before finally pressing the unlock button. The car beeped in response, the headlights flashing briefly.

"Your chariot awaits, princess," Wooyoung said, his voice filled with laughter as he gestured for you to enter. Despite your annoyance, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at his behavior, shaking your head in disbelief as you got into the car. Wooyoung followed suit, sliding into the driver's seat. His smirk still in place, Wooyoung started the car, the engine purring to life.

"We have places to be!" you mocked him, the sound of your high heel echoing in the car as you tapped your foot impatiently. Wooyoung simply laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he drove off into the night. As he drove, the soft glow from the dashboard illuminated his face, casting a warm light on his features. Your eyes drifted to his hands on the steering wheel, fingers deftly maneuvering the vehicle through the night. The veins on the back of his hands were prominent, adding a sense of raw masculinity that you found yourself inexplicably drawn to. Your gaze then moved up to his chiseled jawline, the faint stubble that lined it giving him a rugged charm. You watched as the muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched, a subtle sign of his concentration on the road ahead. His eyes, though, were what captivated you the most. Looking at them through the rearview mirror, you noticed how they were intensely focused on the road, reflecting the faint glimmer of the streetlights. The seriousness on his face was a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor. Despite yourself, you felt a pang of appreciation for this side of him. It was a silent moment of admiration that you allowed yourself. You quickly averted your gaze when he caught your reflection in the rearview mirror, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Wooyoung couldn't resist asking, "Like what you see, princess?"

His comment snapped you out of your reverie. "Keep your eyes on the road, Wooyoung," you retorted, your cheeks heating up at his insinuation. His soft chuckle filled the car, but he didn't push it any further.

After a few minutes of a silent ride, you finally broke the silence. "Can you tell me now where we are going?" you asked, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of annoyance. You could see him smirking from the corner of your eye, clearly finding amusement in your impatience.

Wooyoung glanced at you, his smirk widening. "You'll see when we get there," he replied cryptically. His evasive answer only fueled your curiosity and irritation.

"Wooyoung, I swear if you're taking me to some shady place..." you threatened, but he simply laughed, cutting you off.

"Relax, Y/N. It's nothing like that," he reassured, his tone light but his gaze serious when he looked at you.

After a short ride, Wooyoung finally pulled up at your destination, you were even more confused than before.

"Whose house is this?" you asked, taking a glance around the unfamiliar neighborhood. Wooyoung let out a soft chuckle before unbuckling his seatbelt. He turned to look at you, his usual smirk replaced with a gentle smile.

"Do you remember Mingi?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched your reaction closely. "He shared a class with us last year. He's quite tall, with short-cropped blonde hair." He let the words hang in the air, watching as you tried to recall this Mingi he was referring to.

You blinked, trying to recall someone fitting the description Wooyoung gave. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but you struggled to place him among the many faces you encountered during your classes last year. "Um, Mingi?" you repeated uncertainly, furrowing your brows as you searched your memory. "I think I remember someone like that, but I didn't really know him well."

"Then it's high time you get to know him. It's his birthday party," Wooyoung stated with a broad smile as he stepped out of the car. He left you momentarily, walked around to open your door, and offered his hand.

You looked at his outstretched hand and then up at his expectant face. A sigh escaped your lips before you finally gave in, placing your hand in his. "Alright, let's get this over with," you muttered, allowing Wooyoung to lead the way.

As you entered the house, you were immediately hit with the loud music and chatter of what seemed like a hundred people. Wooyoung instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist, presumably to prevent you from getting lost in the crowd. However, you weren't in the mood for his overbearing actions, so you pushed him away with your elbow, giving him a stern look.

"I can handle myself, Wooyoung," you said, pulling away from him. His smirk remained unfazed as he raised his hands in a sign of surrender.

"As you wish, princess," he replied, his tone laced with amusement. You rolled your eyes at his nickname for you but didn't comment on it. The party was in full swing, with people dancing and chatting. The atmosphere was electric, the house filled with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. Wooyoung guided you through the crowd, introducing you to a few people along the way. You greeted them politely, but your mind was elsewhere. "There's Mingi," Wooyoung pointed out, nodding towards a tall guy who was surrounded by a group of people. He had short blonde hair, just like Wooyoung described. When he saw you both, his face lit up and he excused himself from the group to come greet you.

"Wooyoung, Y/N, glad you guys could make it," Mingi greeted, his voice loud over the music. He had a warm smile, and his eyes were bright with excitement. You exchanged pleasantries with Mingi and wished him a happy birthday. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself gradually warming up to the atmosphere. "I'll get you guys some drinks." Before you could protest, he was already up and heading towards the makeshift bar at the far end of the room. This left you with Wooyoung and a bunch of Mingi's friends, all of whom seemed to know each other well. You took a deep breath and introduced yourself, trying your best to engage in the conversation. Despite your initial hesitation, they were all friendly and welcoming, which eased your mind slightly.

Before you knew it, Mingi returned with a tray of drinks. He handed you a glass filled with a brightly colored cocktail, the ice clinking against the glass. "Try this," he suggested, his eyes twinkling with excitement. You took a cautious sip, the taste of the alcohol strong but not unpleasant. The cocktail was fruity and sweet, the alcohol nicely masked by the flavors. It warmed your throat and seemed to seep into your veins, easing your tension and allowing you to relax slightly. You smiled and thanked Mingi, who returned the gesture with a broad grin.

As the night continued, you found yourself engrossed in conversation, drinking more colorful cocktails, laughing, and exchanging stories with Mingi and other of his friends. Mingi was particularly charming, his pleasant demeanor making it easy for you to feel at ease around him. Yet, occasionally, your gaze would shift to Wooyoung, and you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he navigated through the conversation. His laughter, rich and contagious, echoed through the room, drawing people towards him like a magnet. The way he mingled and engaged with everyone, his energy infectious and his charisma undeniable, was truly a sight to behold. Whether it was his quick wit that left people laughing or his intriguing stories that captivated everyone's attention, Wooyoung was undeniably the life of the party. You found yourself watching him, your heart begrudgingly admitting the undeniable truth - Wooyoung was not only charming but also incredibly hard to resist.

At one point, Mingi turned to you with a genuine smile on his face, saying, "You know, I really wish I had gotten to know you better during our class. You're quite interesting." His compliment caught you off guard, but you managed to smile back, just as you were about to respond, you felt a sudden warmth around you. Startled, you turned to find Wooyoung, his arm comfortably resting on your waist. The unexpected contact surprised you, and you found yourself looking at him, an eyebrow raised in question. His eyes met yours, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

"What are you doing, Wooyoung?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the surprise coursing through you. Wooyoung simply shrugged, the smirk on his face not wavering in the slightest. He seemed to be enjoying your reaction, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken amusement. Deciding to ignore him, you turned back to the rest of the group, engaging in conversation about plans for the upcoming summer. Mingi eagerly shared his excitement about an upcoming trip, and you found yourself genuinely interested in hearing more. As you chatted, Wooyoung's grip around your waist tightened slightly, his body language conveying a subtle sense of protectiveness. Despite your initial irritation, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through you at his touch. Mingi was still talking, his voice pleasant against the backdrop of the party music. Just as you were about to chime in with a comment, you felt Wooyoung lean in closer. His breath fanned across your ear as he whispered, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

His words hit you like a sudden gust of wind, leaving you momentarily speechless. You turned to look at him, your eyes wide with shock. Wooyoung simply looked back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His bold statement left you feeling flustered. But despite your surprise, you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

"Wooyoung, are you drunk?" you asked, your voice laced with concern and a hint of annoyance. His behavior tonight had been erratic at best, and you couldn't quite put a finger on what was causing it. Was it the party, the alcohol, or something else entirely? You weren't sure, and it was beginning to frustrate you. Wooyoung simply chuckled at your question, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Not at all, Y/N," he replied, his voice steady and his gaze unwavering. "But you can't deny that you do look beautiful tonight." His words, though unexpected, were sincere and you found yourself blushing under his intense gaze. You stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. His usual playful demeanor was still there, but there was something different in his eyes tonight. A depth that you hadn't noticed before.

"Is this another one of your tricks?" you asked, though your tone was more playful than accusatory.

"No tricks, Y/N. Just the truth," Wooyoung said, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that took you by surprise. His confident demeanor and the intensity of his gaze left you speechless.

"You're acting weird," you muttered, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What's gotten into you?"

Wooyoung shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. "Maybe I'm just tired of pretending," he said cryptically, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"Pretending what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking.

"That I don't care," he replied simply, his gaze unwavering. "That I don't think about you all the damn time. That I don't want to be more than just your annoying neighbor."

"Oh, shut up, won't you?" you found yourself saying, a mix of emotions flooding through you. His words had caught you off guard, causing your heart to race. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you had to fight the urge to look away from his intense gaze.

In response, Wooyoung simply smirked. "Make me," he retorted, his voice low and taunting. He held your gaze, his eyes sparkling with an unreadable emotion. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted down from your eyes to your lips. For a moment, all you could do was stare back at him, your breath hitching as you realized what he was insinuating. The unexpected intensity of the moment left you breathless, your mind racing as you tried to process what was happening. His confession left you stunned. You had always thought Wooyoung's teasing was just part of his playful nature, never imagining that there might be something more behind it. The realization made your heart flutter and your mind race with questions.

"Wooyoung, I..." you started, but your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm going to get myself a drink," you said, excusing yourself before Wooyoung could respond. You needed a moment to process everything he had just said. You quickly moved away, weaving through the crowd. As you navigated through the sea of people, you accidentally bumped into someone. As you prepared to apologize, you looked up. Your heart skipped a beat when you found yourself staring into familiar eyes – Yeosang's eyes. You caught your breath, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. It had been months since you last saw him.

From the moment you first saw Yeosang in your university class, something clicked inside you. He had an effortless grace about him, a quiet confidence that drew you in immediately. His smile was warm, his mannerisms gentle yet assured. You found yourself stealing glances at him during lectures, captivated by the way he listened intently, his eyes occasionally flickering up to meet yours. As the weeks passed, your admiration for Yeosang deepened. You began to look forward to seeing him, cherishing every opportunity to exchange a few words or share a laugh. However, your feelings remained unspoken. You didn't dare to confess your feelings to Yeosang, fearing that it might jeopardize the friendship you had cultivated or worse, make things awkward between you.

And then came Wooyoung, who joined one of your classes midway through the semester. He was charismatic, confident, and effortlessly charming. You didn't pay much attention to him beyond acknowledging his presence in class. But as weeks passed, you noticed a change in Yeosang. He seemed more distracted, often engaging in conversations with Wooyoung during breaks or after class. At first, you tried to brush it off but as weeks turned into months, it became increasingly clear that Yeosang was falling for Wooyoung. You watched from the sidelines as their friendship blossomed into something deeper, and it stung to realize that the person you liked was now enamored with someone else. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy whenever you saw them together. It was the way Yeosang's eyes lit up when Wooyoung walked into the room, the way he laughed a little harder at Wooyoung's jokes, the way he seemed to gravitate towards him. It was these little things that made you realize just how much Yeosang liked Wooyoung. And it's not like you could blame him. Wooyoung was outgoing, charismatic, and undeniably attractive. But for you, it was difficult to see past the fact that he was the one who had swept your crush off his feet. And so, your dislike for Wooyoung was born more out of a sense of hurt and jealousy than anything else. You couldn't help but see him as the one who had taken away your chance with Yeosang. To make matters worse, Wooyoung seemed oblivious to the impact his presence had on your dynamics with Yeosang. Once Wooyoung and Yeosang made their relationship official, your friendship with Yeosang dwindled to non-existence. You were left alone to deal with your heartbreak, the sting of rejection, and the loss of friendship compounding your sorrow.

The sight of Wooyoung and Yeosang together became a bitter pill to swallow, a cruel reminder of your unfulfilled feelings for Yeosang. You missed the comforting presence of Yeosang. But more than anything, you missed the hope, the hope of maybe being something more than just friends with him. After your first year, you decided to switch groups to avoid seeing the boys together, and since then you haven’t seen Yeosang at all.

But as much as you wanted to avoid Wooyoung as well, it was harder than you imagined since he was your neighbor. Living so close to him meant that you often crossed paths, whether in the apartment lobby, the parking lot, or the local grocery store. Despite your best efforts to keep your distance, Wooyoung always seemed to find a way back into your life, you couldn't seem to escape him.

"Y/N?" Yeosang asked, his eyes wide as he scanned your face. "I haven't seen you in forever!" With one swift motion, he pulled you into a hug, leaving you utterly surprised. ''What are you doing here?'' Your mind raced with a mix of emotions – surprise, nostalgia, and a tinge of unresolved feelings. His warm embrace felt both familiar and foreign after months of absence, stirring memories of the friendship you had once shared before Wooyoung came into the picture.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, pulling away from the hug, your heart pounding at the close contact.

Yeosang's smile was warm and genuine as he offered, "Would you mind grabbing a drink with me?" he extended his arm towards you and despite all the confusion swirling in your mind, you found yourself unable to resist the offer.

"Yeah, sure!" you agreed, smiling weakly at him. "But I think you need to know that Wooyoung is here as well." A few months ago, a mutual friend informed you that Yeosang and Wooyoung had broken up that’s why you said the last part with hesitation, watching for Yeosang’s reaction, unsure how he might feel given their history.

He blinked in surprise at your words, his face going slightly pale. "Wooyoung is here?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, biting your lip nervously. Yeosang took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. After what felt like an eternity, he finally looked up at you, a small smile on his face. "It's okay, Y/N," he said, his voice steady. "We ended things on good terms. It won't be awkward, I promise." Despite his reassurances, you could see the flash of pain in his eyes, a hint of the heartbreak he must have gone through.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him but didn't know what to say. Instead, you gave him a small smile, "Let's get that drink," you suggested, offering him a comforting smile. He nodded, his smile returning as he led you towards the makeshift bar.

As you navigated through the crowd, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Seeing Yeosang again stirred up old feelings, and Wooyoung's confession left you in a state of shock. Wooyoung's sudden confession surprised you. The two of you hardly spent time together after your feelings of jealousy took over, leading you to switch classes in an attempt to distance yourself. You lived in the same building so you'd sometimes meet him in the lobby, the parking lot, or the grocery store, but that was all. Any talks you had were short and you were often annoyed with him. It was clear you didn't like being around Wooyoung.

As you reached the makeshift bar, Yeosang took two glasses in his hands. "What do you feel like drinking?" he asked, his gaze turning to the drinks lined up on the counter.

"To be honest, a strong cocktail would be nice." you amended, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

"Alright, one strong cocktail coming right up." He said, his voice filled with amusement as he began to mix your drink. You watched him work, feeling a mix of nostalgia and nervousness. It was surreal being here with him after everything that had happened. Yeosang prepared two cocktails, handing one to you with a warm smile. You took a sip, the fruity tang of the drink temporarily distracting you from your thoughts.

"So, how's life treating you?" Yeosang asked, his tone was casual, but there was a genuine interest in his eyes.

"Busy," you replied with a small smile. "Classes are demanding, but I'm managing. How about you? How's everything been?"

"Pretty much the same. Classes, projects, the usual. I've been keeping myself occupied." There was a comfortable silence as you both took a moment to enjoy your drinks. The strong cocktail did wonders to calm your nerves, and you found yourself relaxing into the familiar rhythm of conversation with Yeosang.

"You know," Yeosang began, his voice softer, "I really missed our talks. It's been too long."

You looked at him, surprised by the honesty in his words. "I missed them too," you admitted, feeling a pang of regret for the time lost. "When I first heard that you and Wooyoung had broken up, I was secretly hoping you would reach out," you confessed, your gaze meeting his. There was a moment of silence as your words hung in the air. Yeosang blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your confession. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to struggle to find the right words. You watched as a range of emotions flitted across his face - surprise, confusion, and then, slowly, understanding.

"I...I had no idea," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze dropped to his drink, his fingers absently tracing the rim of the glass. "I was so absorbed in my relationship with Wooyoung, that I didn't notice I was neglecting our friendship," Yeosang confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't see you the whole summer, and then I found out you switched classes. I should have reached out, I know. But I was too caught up in my own feelings. I'm sorry, Y/N," Yeosang said, looking up at you with a sincere expression, his eyes filled with regret.

You were taken aback by his sudden apology, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. "It's okay, Yeosang," you reassured him, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "We were both dealing with our own stuff. But I'm glad we're talking now."

He looked up at you, his gaze soft. "I missed you, Y/N," he admitted, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner." Yeosang smiled, and for a moment, it felt like old times. "I'm glad we ran into each other tonight," he said sincerely.

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Me too, Sangie. Me too," you replied.

Little did you both know, a pair of eyes were watching your interaction from across the room.

As you continued to engage in conversation with Yeosang, you finally felt the alcohol hit. Your senses began to blur slightly, the room spinning a little. Yeosang's cheeks and ears had turned a shade of red, the alcohol clearly taking effect on him too. You couldn't help but admire his handsome face, his brown, styled hair adding to his charm. He looked like an angel under the soft glow of the lights, and you found yourself staring at him, losing focus on what he was saying. Your head was getting dizzy from the alcohol, and you found your body swaying slightly. Without thinking, you rested your head on Yeosang's shoulder, your arms linked as you continued talking. The warmth from his body was comforting, easing the spinning sensation in your head. As he spoke, you found yourself staring at his lips. They moved with each word, captivating you completely. You could see the faint stubble on his upper lip, the slight curve of his lower lip, the way they moved when he pronounced certain words. His voice was a soothing hum in your ears, the words gradually losing meaning as you got lost in your thoughts. You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to close the distance, to taste the sweet alcohol on his lips. Your gaze flickered up to meet his, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Yeosang noticed the direction of your gaze and a faint blush colored his cheeks. He paused mid-sentence, his eyes meeting yours. His eyes held a softness that you hadn't seen in a long time, stirring a familiar warmth within you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the alcohol loosening the tight grip of restraint. Slowly, you leaned in closer, your eyes fluttering shut, the anticipation built up, a sweet tension hanging in the air. But just as your lips were about to meet, you were pulled up by your arm.

Startled, you opened your eyes to find Wooyoung standing beside you, his gaze burning into yours. "I think you've had enough to drink, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. His grip on your arm was firm yet gentle, pulling you away from Yeosang and towards him.

"What the hell, Wooyoung?" you slurred, struggling to maintain your balance. His sudden intrusion left you disoriented, your head spinning from the abrupt movement. His eyes held a strange intensity, an emotion you couldn't quite decipher.

Yeosang looked at the two of you, his expression mixed with confusion and a hint of disappointment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Wooyoung couldn't help but gaze at Yeosang as well. His eyes held a strange mix of emotions that were hard to decipher. He watched as Yeosang looked back at him, a hint of confusion and disappointment in his gaze. This interaction was one Wooyoung had not anticipated, but he couldn't deny the protective instinct that had surged within him.

Wooyoung’s voice softened as he turned to Yeosang, "Are you alright?" he asked with concern. Yeosang simply nodded, his eyes still locked on Wooyoung and you, a lingering sadness evident in his gaze. Wooyoung tightened his hold around you, his voice barely above a whisper as he scolded Yeosang gently, "You shouldn't drink so much, you know you can't handle your alcohol well."

Yeosang ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that you recognized instantly. "Yeah, I know" he replied, his voice low and slightly shaky, "But I don't think it's your place to remind me, Wooyoung." His words carried a hint of bitterness that you hadn't heard from him before. Wooyoung flinched slightly, clear surprise flashing across his face. He nodded, falling silent as he tightened his hold on you once more.

"Can't I worry about you anymore?" Wooyoung asked, his voice clearly annoyed with the way this conversation was going.

Yeosang looked away, his expression hard to read. "You stopped having that right when we broke up, Wooyoung," he replied, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotions. Wooyoung was taken aback, his grip on your arm loosening slightly.

His words carried a sting that caused Wooyoung to recoil slightly. "So, I loved you once and now I have to pretend we are strangers?" Wooyoung retorted, his voice tight with frustration. The tension between them was palpable, a stark reminder of the complex web of emotions and history that tied them together.

"No, Wooyoung. We're not strangers, but we're not lovers either. We're just two people who used to know each other very well," Yeosang replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. His gaze was steady, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. Wooyoung fell silent, his grip on your arm slackening as he digested Yeosang's words. "I better get going," Yeosang said, getting up from the couch. He tripped on his feet, momentarily losing his balance. He quickly steadied himself, giving you and Wooyoung one last glance before disappearing into the crowd.

After a while of uncomfortable silence, Wooyoung asked you, "Are you alright?" his voice filled with concern.

You turned to him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I should be asking you this question," you replied, your gaze meeting his.

Wooyoung seemed taken aback by your response, but he quickly regained his composure. "I'm fine Y/N," he said, avoiding your gaze. "But are you?"

"I'm okay," you managed to say, the words coming out as a slur. You swayed slightly, your vision blurring as you tried to focus on Wooyoung's face. He sighed, his grip tightening around your waist.

"Let's get you some water," he suggested, his voice steady despite the concern on his face. He began to lead you away from the crowd, his hold on you firm yet gentle. You didn't protest, too dazed to argue.

Wooyoung led you outside, the cool night air hitting your face. It was a welcome relief from the heat of the party, the sounds of music and chatter fading into the background. He guided you to a nearby bench, helping you sit down before he sat beside you. You leaned back, closing your eyes as you tried to clear your head. The world was spinning around you, the effects of the alcohol more potent than you had anticipated. A moment of silence passed, the only sound being the distant hum of the party and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much," Wooyoung finally broke the silence, his tone soft. You opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He was staring at you, his gaze filled with concern.

"Well, you shouldn't have dragged me to this party," you retorted, your voice coming out stronger than you intended.

"You're right, I shouldn't have," he agreed, his tone suddenly angry. He reached for the water bottle he had brought with him, handing it to you. You took it gratefully, taking small sips as you tried to sober up.

"What was that supposed to mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to comprehend his sudden change in tone. There was a distinct edge to his voice that you had never heard before - a hint of anger, perhaps even frustration.

His words hung in the air, their implications slowly sinking in as you tried to make sense of the situation. "I mean, I pour my heart out, confessing my fucking feelings to you, and then you just disappear. And when I find you, you're kissing my ex?" Wooyoung ruffled his hair in frustration, his words laced with a potent mix of anger and hurt.

"I did not kiss your ex," you managed to slur out, pausing to take a gulp of water in an attempt to clear your head.

Wooyoung's sudden shout startled you, causing you to nearly choke on your drink. "Fuck! Is that really the only thing you caught from everything I just said?" He was clearly frustrated, he took you by your arms, making you face him to make sure you were paying attention. "I'm confessing to you here, for fuck's sake. Do you understand?"

"Confessing?" you echoed, your mind struggling to process his words. "Wait, are you saying..." you trailed off, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. "You...you like me?" His confession left you reeling, a mix of shock and disbelief coursing through you.

Wooyoung simply stared at you for a moment, as if he was trying to read your thoughts. "Yes, Y/N," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I like you. I have for a while now." His words hung in the air, a confession that left you stunned "But here you are, chasing after my ex," Wooyoung's words had a bitter edge to them, his frustration evident in his voice. His confession was still ringing in your ears, adding to the surrealness of the situation. You stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. His confession was unexpected, but it started to make sense, explaining his unusual behavior throughout the night. Your heart pounded in your chest as you attempted to articulate a response. "It's funny," he said, a dry smile playing on his lips. "I always thought you hated me, and I could never figure out why." Wooyoung sighed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips despite the sadness clouding his eyes. "Now I know why," he admitted, his voice carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore. The words hung in the air, heavy with regret and understanding. His eyes held yours, a silent plea for understanding shimmering within their depths. "A fucking love triangle, for fuck's sake," Wooyoung chuckled, biting his lower lip in a mix of amusement and frustration. His heart pounded in his chest as the gravity of the situation sank in. Here he was, caught in a twisted love triangle with his ex and the girl he was falling for. The irony was not lost on him.

"Wooyoung, it's not what you think," you finally managed to say, your voice shaky. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't plan on... with Yeosang... I was just... I don't know." You trailed off, your words failing to accurately convey the whirlwind of emotions within you. "I'm sorry, Wooyoung," you added, your voice barely above a whisper. The apology hung heavy in the air, a sincere admittance of your conflicted feelings. This was not how you imagined the night unfolding. The realization that you had been blind to his feelings all this time left you feeling more disoriented than the alcohol ever could. "Wooyoung," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know." The look in his eyes softened a fraction, but the hurt was still there, raw and unfiltered.

He let out a heavy sigh, releasing his grip on your arms and stepping back. "How could you have known?" he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I never had the guts to tell you until now. And when I finally do, it's at the worst possible moment." His words were filled with a raw honesty that took you by surprise, leaving you speechless. There was a heavy silence as you both sat there, his confession still lingering in the air. The cool night breeze rustled through the trees, the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. You looked at Wooyoung, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the nearby streetlights. His eyes were downcast, a stark contrast to his usual lively demeanor. "Let's get us home," Wooyoung finally said, breaking the silence. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The contact was unexpected, but it felt comforting He guided you up from the bench, his hand securely wrapped around yours. The world swayed slightly as you stood, the alcohol still coursing through your veins.

"What about the car?" you suddenly asked, remembering you had driven to the party.

"Mingi's going to drive it back tomorrow," after he said that, you walked in silence, the quiet night air a stark contrast to the loud music and chatter you left behind. The soft glow of the streetlights guided your path, casting long shadows on the empty sidewalk. The only sounds were the distant hum of the city and the soft rustle of leaves under your feet. Wooyoung's grip on your hand was firm yet gentle, a silent reassurance that he was there for you.

"Wooyoung, my feet hurt," you finally voiced out, glancing down at your feet which were now visibly swollen from the uncomfortable heels you had been wearing all night. A pained expression crossed your face as you tried to flex your aching feet.

"Your feet hurt?" Wooyoung stopped in his tracks, his gaze dropping to the heels you had been wearing all night. He could see the discomfort on your face and he felt a pang of sympathy.

"Mhm," you whispered softly, your pout deepening. Wooyoung stopped, looking down at your feet in the high heels that had been giving you trouble all evening. His eyes softened upon seeing your discomfort.

"Alright, take them off, princess," Wooyoung said, his voice gentle yet firm. He let go of your hand and crouched down, reaching for the straps of your heels. You watched in surprise as he helped you out of the torturous shoes. His actions were so unexpected, yet they felt so natural, causing a smile to tug at your lips. The nickname he had just used hung in the air between you, igniting a familiar warmth in your chest. You felt a small chuckle escape your lips, the tension from earlier starting to dissipate a bit. This was a side of Wooyoung you hadn't seen before, a softer, caring side that warmed your heart.

Once he had helped you out of your shoes, Wooyoung started to untie his own shoes, "What are you doing?" you chuckled, watching as he removed his own shoes. He looked up at you with a grin, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.

"I'm giving you my shoes so you don't have to walk barefoot," he simply replied, handing you his shoes with a gentle smile. You took them from him, a soft laugh escaping your lips at his unexpected gesture.

"Seriously?" you asked, your voice filled with amusement. Wooyoung simply shrugged, a playful grin on his lips. You hesitated for a moment before slipping your feet into his shoes. They were slightly big for you, but significantly more comfortable than your heels.

With a satisfied nod, Wooyoung stood up and offered his arm. "Shall we continue?" he asked, his tone light. You nodded, taking his arm as you both continued walking.

The rest of the walk home was quiet, punctuated only by the occasional sound of passing cars and the soft rustling of leaves under your feet. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you found comfort in Wooyoung's steady presence beside you. His silence was not oppressive, rather it was comforting, allowing you the space to process the night's events. Your senses gradually began to clear as you walked, the cool night breeze helping to dissipate the effects of the alcohol. The world slowly stopped spinning, and your thoughts were no longer a jumbled mess. The reality of the night's events began to sink in, causing a pang of regret to shoot through your heart. You took a deep breath, resolving to deal with the consequences of your actions once you were completely sober. For now, you were just grateful for Wooyoung's silent support and the comforting familiarity of the route back home.

You barely noticed when you reached your apartment complex, the towering building standing tall against the night sky. Wooyoung guided you to your door, his hand still securely wrapped around yours.

"Thank you, Wooyoung," you said softly, your heart pounding as you turned to face him. His gaze met yours, his eyes holding a gentleness that made your heart flutter. His silence was comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts.

"You're welcome, Y/N," Wooyoung replied, his voice soft. His gaze lingered on your face, drinking in your features. He squeezed your hand gently, offering you a small smile.

"I...I need to go," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, releasing his hand. He turned to leave, his figure slowly disappearing. You watched him go, a mix of emotions washing over you. You sighed, turning to unlock your door. Once inside, you kicked off Wooyoung's shoes and collapsed onto your bed. The events of the night replayed in your mind, each detail more confusing than the last. You closed your eyes, the image of Wooyoung's hurt expression etched into your memory. A wave of guilt washed over you. Wooyoung's confession had been unexpected, but your reaction had been even more so. You pulled your blanket over your head, the guilt gnawing at your conscience. You took a deep breath, forcing your mind to clear. You needed to sort out your feelings, to figure out what you truly wanted. You decided to take a shower. The warm water cascading down your body provided a momentary relief, but it didn't really help to calm your thoughts. You kept thinking about Wooyoung, his confession kept echoing in your mind. Yeosang, who had been at the forefront of your mind earlier, now seemed like a distant memory. Each time you closed your eyes, you saw Wooyoung's face, his gaze filled with a mix of hurt and hope, his words echoing in your mind. You mindlessly brushed your teeth and changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a T-shirt. Getting into bed, you couldn't fall asleep. You were feeling too many things, each stronger than the last. You moved around in bed, with the quiet night making your thoughts louder. Suddenly, you felt a strong need to act. You couldn't stand your confusing thoughts anymore, so you decided to face them. You jumped from the bed and ran to your apartment door, your heart beating fast. Forgetting to lock the door, you quickly climbed the stairs to the next floor, your heart beating loudly. You stopped at Wooyoung's door, worried he might be asleep and your late visit would be pointless. But you decided to go ahead. You took a deep breath to calm down and knocked on Wooyoung's door.

After a few moments, the door creaked open. Wooyoung stood there, looking surprised to see you. "Y/N? What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

His surprised expression made your heart race even more, "Can I come in?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wooyoung blinked in surprise before stepping aside to let you in. "Of course, come in." He led you to his living room, the space dimly lit by a single standing lamp. You walked in, your heart pounding in your chest. Wooyoung closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression one of concern. "Is everything alright, Y/N?"

But instead of answering, you slowly reached out, placing your hand on his. He looked at you, surprise flickering across his eyes. "Wooyoung...," you started, unsure of what to say. You squeezed his hand gently, ''Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Wooyoung's eyes widened at your words, a mix of surprise and disbelief flashing across his face. For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if trying to determine if he had heard you correctly. "I just need to check something, so kiss me, please?" you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. The request hung heavy in the air, a question that held the potential to change everything. Wooyoung's eyes widened in shock, and he searched your face for any hint of hesitation or insincerity. His gaze softened as he saw the earnest plea in your eyes. "I brushed my teeth," you told him, a small smile playing on your lips. This caused him to chuckle, his laugh broke the tension, a small ray of light in an otherwise heavy situation.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Wooyoung responded, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Wouldn't want to kiss a mouth full of party snacks and alcohol, now would we?" At that, your smile widened a bit, the humor in his comment easing some of your nervousness. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his eyes locked on yours. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of emotions that set your heart racing. It was as if he was silently pleading for you to understand, to accept his feelings. In that moment, you felt a connection, a spark that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you going to just keep looking at me like that, or are you actually going to kiss me?" you teased, an amused quirk of his lips was his initial response, the corners of his mouth curling into a small, but warm, smile. Your playful tone seemed to have done the trick, Wooyoung’s gaze softened, his gaze flickering momentarily to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. The playful challenge in your words hung in the air, a silent invitation awaiting his response. For a moment, all you could hear was your own heart pounding in anticipation. You found yourself holding your breath, eagerly waiting for his next move. "What are you afraid of?" you whispered, his eyes reflecting a hint of surprise at your question.

"Afraid?" he echoed, a playful spark in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Not even a bit." Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The world seemed to pause as his lips met yours, the soft pressure sending a jolt of surprise through you. It was a gentle kiss, yet filled with a raw intensity that took your breath away. His lips moved against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm, the intoxicating taste of him making your head spin even more. His hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and deepening the kiss. You responded instinctively, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back. The world around you seemed to fade into insignificance, the only thing that mattered was the feel of his lips against yours, the warmth of his body against yours. It was a while before you both pulled away, the need for air becoming too great. You looked at him, his eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed. His lips were slightly swollen from the kiss and for a moment, you wondered if yours looked the same.

"Well..." he started, his voice slightly hoarse. "Did you...check what you needed to check?" His words were light, but his eyes held a seriousness that suggested he was waiting for your answer with bated breath.

You nodded, your mind still reeling from the kiss. "Yeah..." you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I did." You weren't quite sure what you had expected to feel but whatever it was, it felt right. His confession, his kiss, it was unexpected, but it felt...right. Your heart raced as you looked into Wooyoung's eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand still on the back of your neck. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. Slowly, a smile spread across your face, mirroring his own playful demeanor. "I think I got my answer," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "But just to be sure..." You leaned in again, closing the distance between you, capturing his lips with yours in another kiss. This time, the kiss was deeper, more passionate, as if confirming what both of you had been silently longing for. His response was immediate, his lips moving with a renewed fervor against yours. The gentle pressure, the taste of him, the way his fingers lightly traced your jawline sent shivers down your spine. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, staring into each other's eyes with a mixture of disbelief and desire.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, his forehead resting on yours, as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "So, did that clear things up for you?" he asked, his voice husky with emotion.

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah," you murmured, "It definitely did."

"Good," he said, his eyes lighting up at your smile. "Because I...I really like you, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I hope that...maybe...you might feel the same way."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth spreading through you. You looked at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent understanding. "I...I think I might," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

His eyes widened in surprise, a hopeful smile spreading across his face. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and hope.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Really," you confirmed, your heart pounding in your chest. His smile widened, his eyes lighting up with a joy that made your heart flutter. You felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of rightness that you hadn't felt in a long time. You felt a surge of embarrassment rush through you as Wooyoung’s gaze continued to rake over your attire. A flush crept up your neck and you instinctively brought a hand up to hide your reddening face. Wooyoung let out a hearty laugh at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Go away, Wooyoung," you muttered from behind your hand, your voice muffled yet audibly flustered.

Wooyoung, however, seemed to find your blush endearing. He raised an eyebrow at your retort, a smirk playing on his lips. "Go away? Where am I supposed to go, princess?" he replied, his tone teasing. His words only served to deepen your blush, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips at his ridiculousness. Without a word, you pushed him playfully, trying to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. Wooyoung only laughed, his eyes twinkling as he caught your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You rolled your eyes, yet the warmth in your chest didn’t dissipate. "You're insufferable, Wooyoung," you said, but your fond tone contradicted your words.

He simply grinned in response, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "And you wouldn't have it any other way," he retorted, his voice full of affection.

"Maybe I wouldn't," you admitted, a soft smile on your lips.

[jaeyunluvbot]

possibility

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, seungmin is kind of a dickhead, poor y/n, seungmin x fem!reader

word count 𝟅𝟈 5.3k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The apartment feels eerily quiet, except for the faint sound of Seungmin’s voice coming from the bedroom. You’re curled up on the couch, blanket draped over your shoulders, staring blankly at the paused movie on your tv. The half-empty mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table has long since gone cold.

This has been your routine for weeks now—waiting. Waiting for Seungmin to finish his meetings, his calls, his endless planning for the comeback. You understand. You’ve always understood. Being an idol is demanding, and he’s worked so hard to get where he is. But lately, the understanding has felt heavier. Lonelier.

Tonight, this feeling is especially prevalent, with Seungmin having promised you he’d have the night open specifically for you, no work calls or meetings. You’d been overjoyed at this news, planning a movie marathon for the two of you, a way to reconnect after weeks of distance. 

The night had been exactly what you needed, a relaxing evening with the love of your life who had finally cleared up his schedule enough to make time for you. Except, the love of your life was currently on a surprise work call, speaking in a clearly frustrated tone in the other room.

You scroll through the photos on your phone, lingering on one from a few months ago. Seungmin had a shy smile on his face, holding up a peace sign while you snapped the picture. That was before the chaos of schedules consumed him—back when there was still time for dates and lazy mornings in bed.

You hear the creak of his door opening and perk up instantly, setting your phone down. Seungmin walks out, a notebook in one hand, his hair messy like he’s been running his fingers through it all day.

“Hey,” you say softly, your heart lifting just a little at the sight of him. He doesn’t respond, heading straight to the kitchen.

You follow him, watching as he rushes around the apartment, looking for his keys and wallet. “Wanna finish the movie?” you ask, leaning against the counter.

“Hm? Oh, I can’t, Chan needs me to re-record a few lines for the title track,” he mutters without looking at you. 

Your stomach twists. “You’ve barely had a break all day, Seungmin. Don’t you think it can wait until tomorrow?”

Before he can respond, his phone buzzes again. He picks it up, reading the message with a frown.

“I really have to go,” he says abruptly, finally finding his wallet and keys, which had been tossed haphazardly on the kitchen counter when he arrived home earlier that afternoon.

“What?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” you ask, following him to the door, wanting desperately to beg him to stay for once. “It’s so late, Seungmin. You need rest. Can’t someone else handle it?”

“My lines aren’t right for the track, I have to fix them,” he says, slipping on his shoes.

“Please,” you say, your voice cracking. You reach for his hand, but he doesn’t stop moving. “Can’t you stay? Just tonight?”

He pauses, just for a moment, his back to you. Then he sighs. “I really can’t, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He opens the door without even looking back, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. He doesn’t kiss you goodbye.

The sound of the door closing echoes in the empty apartment. You let out a shaky breath, the weight of his absence pressing down on you. Crawling into bed feels like defeat, and the sheets are cold without him beside you.

You understood that his job depended on this, and that he was a perfectionist to his core, always criticizing his own work, no matter how good it was, but you had thought that maybe he could finally put work aside to spend the night with you. Clearly, this was a foolish thought, or wishful thinking, but you thought that your three-year relationship was important to him, now you weren’t so sure.

As you get ready for bed that night, your mind is plagued with thoughts of Seungmin, of the good times the two of you had once shared. You crawl into your empty bed, the cold sheets reminding you again that he would always put his job over you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning, you move through the rhythms of your daily routine, getting up, showering, and cooking yourself breakfast. The act is painful, as you’d usually cook for both you and Seungmin, and you find yourself getting two mugs out of the cabinet without thinking, another ache shooting through your body as you remember that he’s not here and that he never came home last night.

Your day at work isn’t any better, with grades being due soon and kids trying to turn in late work for extra credit so their parents wouldn’t be mad at their report cards.

The only semblance of relief you get is when your coworkers join you at lunch, chatting happily as you grade papers and projects, distracting you from what’s going on at home.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You’re just finishing your shower when the sound of the door unlocking catches your attention. You glance at the clock—6:00 p.m. Seungmin steps in, looking exhausted, his hoodie wrinkled, and his bag slung lazily over his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything right away, just sets his things down and heads toward the kitchen.

“Hi,” you say softly, following him. “You didn’t come home last night.”

“They kept me late,” he replies, opening the fridge. “I crashed at the studio.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the counter. “You could’ve at least let me know. I was worried.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” he says with a shrug.

“Not a big deal?” Your voice rises slightly. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye when you left, and then you just… don’t come back? Do you know how that feels?”

He sighs, shutting the fridge without taking anything out. “Y/N, I didn’t have time to think about it. Work is crazy right now.”

“Work is always crazy,” you shoot back. “It’s always your top priority, Seungmin. Always.”

“Because it has to be!” he snaps, finally turning to face you. His face is a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “Do you think I can just slack off? This is my career, Y/N. It’s not optional.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat, but you push through. “I’m not asking you to slack off. I’m asking you to care about us as much as you care about your job. To care about me.”

His jaw tightens, his voice colder than you’ve ever heard it. “Some of us have actual jobs, Y/N. We don’t all get to hang out with a bunch of kids every day. I have to provide for us.”

The words hit like a punch to the stomach. Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. He’s never talked to you like this before.

“That’s what you think of what I do?” you manage to whisper. “You think my job isn’t important?”

He groans, rubbing his temples. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did,” you say, your voice trembling now. “You know how insecure I’ve always been about my career. About how little I make compared to you. You’re supposed to be the one person who doesn’t look down on me for it.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “You always put your job first, Seungmin. You never think about how it feels for me to be left behind all the time. And now this? It’s like I don’t even matter to you anymore.”

“That’s not fair,” he says, his tone defensive. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under. I’m trying to keep everything together, and all you do is cling to me like I’m supposed to fix everything for you.”

You flinch at his words.

“I’m sorry being with me is such a burden to you,” you snap, your voice breaking.

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this right now. I’m going to the dorms.”

Your heart drops. “What?”

“I need space,” he says, grabbing his bag again. “I can’t handle this right now.”

“Seungmin,” you say desperately, stepping toward him. “You just got home. When are you coming back?”

He hesitates at the door, not looking at you. “I don’t know. I just… I need to think.”

And then he’s gone.

You stand there in stunned silence, the apartment suddenly feeling impossibly empty. You sink onto the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself as the tears come.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next few days are a blur. You try to keep yourself busy, filling the emptiness with noise and routine. Work becomes your refuge, the chatter and laughter of your students a temporary distraction from the heaviness that lingers in your chest.

You smile at your coworkers during lunch, laugh at jokes you barely register, and nod along to their conversations. To anyone else, you look fine—maybe a little tired—but fine.

But the truth is, you’re unraveling.

The apartment is too quiet now, each room a reminder of his absence. His toothbrush is still next to yours in the bathroom, his favorite hoodie draped over the back of the couch. The silence is suffocating, and every time you catch yourself glancing at the door, hoping he’ll walk in, the ache in your chest deepens.

At night, it’s worse. You lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the space beside you cold and empty. You clutch his pillow, trying to hold on to the faintest trace of him, but it’s not the same. His hoodie having lost his scent from how often you’d been wearing it in his absence.

When Felix texts you to check in, asking if you’re okay, you respond with a cheerful, “Just busy with work! How are you?”

And when Han calls, his voice warm and teasing, you force a laugh, telling him everything is fine.

But they’re not convinced.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

One evening, you’re cleaning up after dinner when there’s a knock at the door. You open it to find Felix and Han standing there, both holding plastic bags filled with snacks.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to sound surprised, though the sight of them makes your heart clench with relief.

“Just thought we’d check in on you,” Felix says, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

Han holds up the bags. “And bring supplies for a movie night. Unless you’re busy?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I’m not busy. Come in.”

They settle on the couch while you grab drinks from the fridge. You can feel their eyes on you, their concern unspoken but heavy in the air.

As the movie plays, Felix nudges you gently, offering a gummy bear. You take it with a small smile, grateful for the distraction. Han cracks jokes throughout the film, his energy infectious. For a while, you almost forget the weight you’ve been carrying.

But when Felix casually drapes an arm over your shoulders, you stiffen, the familiar comfort of his affection too much to handle. You pull away slightly, pretending to adjust the blanket.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice low enough that Han doesn’t hear.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, just tired.”

He doesn’t push, but you catch the glance he exchanges with Han.

After they leave, the loneliness sinks back in, an unwelcome, but familiar feeling. You curl up on the couch, clutching your phone, your thumb hovering over Seungmin’s contact.

You want to text him, to ask if he’s okay, if he’s coming home, if he still wants this.

But you don’t.

Instead, you put the phone down and stare at the ceiling, wondering how things got to this point. The pit in your stomach only growing when you think about how long it’s been since he’d spoken more than a few words to you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Seungmin sits on the dorm couch, his head tipped back against the cushion, eyes closed. The weight of exhaustion settles heavily on him—physically, mentally, emotionally. Work had been relentless lately, and though he knew he should feel relief at finally being back in the dorm, the quiet nagging in his chest wouldn’t let up.

The sound of a door opening pulls him from his thoughts, and Chan appears, a towel slung over his shoulder, fresh from a shower.

“Yo,” Chan greets, pausing when he notices Seungmin’s expression. “What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home with Y/N?”

Seungmin exhales sharply, sitting up straight. “I’m staying here for now. Work’s been...hectic, and it’s easier to be closer to the studio.”

Chan narrows his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s a load of crap, and you know it.”

“It’s not—”

“Nope, stop.” Chan cuts him off with a hand. “I’ve known you long enough to see right through you. What’s really going on?”

Seungmin doesn’t respond immediately, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “We had an argument,” he mutters.

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Okay, and? Arguments happen. Why are you avoiding her instead of fixing it?”

“It’s not that simple,” Seungmin snaps, his voice harsher than intended. “I just... I needed space.”

Chan sighs, crossing his arms. “Look, I get it—work’s a lot right now, and relationships aren’t always smooth sailing. But avoiding her? Leaving her alone while she’s probably upset? That’s not right, man. You’re better than this.”

Before Seungmin can respond, the front door swings open, and Han and Felix step in, their energy noticeably different than usual.

Felix places a bag of leftover snacks on the counter, avoiding Seungmin’s gaze, while Han throws himself onto a chair with a pointed huff.

“Something wrong?” Seungmin asks cautiously, his brow furrowing.

“Not with us,” Han says, voice clipped. “But Y/N? Yeah, she’s not doing great, if you even care.”

Felix doesn’t say anything, but the disappointed look he shoots at Seungmin feels sharper than any words.

“What do you mean?” Seungmin’s stomach sinks, his voice softening.

“She’s hurting, Min,” Felix finally says, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “She’s trying to hold it together, but it’s obvious she’s struggling. She misses you. We can see it.”

Han leans forward, his expression uncharacteristically stern. “You should’ve seen how she lit up when we showed up. Like we were giving her air after she’d been holding her breath for days. And even then, she barely touched us. You know how she usually is—always clinging to us.”

Felix nods. “But not now. She’s pulling back, trying not to be a burden because you made her feel like one.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightens, shame creeping up his spine. “I didn’t mean to make her feel that way.”

“Then fix it,” Han says bluntly. “You’re the only one who can.”

Chan chimes in, his voice quieter but no less firm. “You’ve got to decide what’s more important, Seungmin. Work will always be hectic. That’s the nature of our job. But Y/N? She’s not always going to wait around for you to figure it out.”

“The comeback is so close, it’s only a few weeks, I’ll make it up to her after promotion is over.”

Chan rolls his eyes, “What if she’s not there in a few weeks? What if she gets tired of waiting for you to get your shit together? Then what?”

Seungmin inhales sharply, abruptly standing up from the couch and tossing the blanket on the floor, “I don’t need this from you all, I’m just trying to do what’s best for the team.”

Seungmin then leaves the living room, storming into his bedroom, and slamming the door behind him with a force that makes the walls shake. He stands there, panting, hands clenched into fists at his sides. His heart races, blood pounding in his ears.

He can’t believe the audacity of the guys. Han and Felix had no right to be upset with him—he’s the one who’s been working nonstop, the one who’s been carrying the weight of the comeback, and they don’t understand that.

They’re taking her side, Seungmin thinks bitterly. They don’t even know what it’s like, how much pressure I’m under.

He throws himself onto the bed, his anger turning to frustration. The guilt is there too, gnawing at him, but he shoves it aside. It’s too much to think about now. He needs to focus on work.

But no matter how hard he tries, his mind keeps drifting back to Y/N. You haven’t messaged him, called, or done anything that would make him feel like you're still holding onto him, and for some reason, that stings worse than he thought it would.

The thought of you—alone, without him—is almost too much to bear.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next few days pass in a blur. Seungmin tries to push through the exhaustion, but it’s impossible. He’s barely functioning at work, his focus slipping during practices, missing notes during recording, and forgetting his lines. His energy is drained, and his usual sharpness has been dulled by the mix of stress and guilt.

At one point during a practice, Chan pulls him aside, his face uncharacteristically stern. “Seungmin,” he says in a low voice, “you’re not performing at your best, and it’s affecting the group. You need to stop and get your head straight.”

Seungmin opens his mouth to argue, but Chan cuts him off. “No, you’re not doing any more work until you fix whatever’s going on in your head. Go home. Rest. You’re burned out, and you can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightens in defiance, but he knows there’s no point. He’s never seen Chan like this before—so firm, so sure. Reluctantly, he nods.

He returns to the dorm, barely dragging himself to his room before collapsing into bed. The silence in the place is suffocating, and he feels his frustration build once more.

Felix and Han avoid him completely. When he passes by them, they don’t make eye contact, don’t greet him. The tension is unbearable.

He can’t stand it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After a few days of aimlessly rotting in bed, Seungmin finds himself sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at a half-empty cup of coffee. The weight of everything is crushing him.

Felix and Han are in the living room, talking softly, but Seungmin knows they’re talking about him. He can feel the way they avoid him, the way they give him pitying glances when they think he’s not looking.

Finally, Han breaks the silence, his voice calm but unwavering. “You know, Seungmin, we tried to warn you.”

Seungmin looks up, his eyes flashing with irritation. “What are you talking about?”

Felix doesn’t even look up from his phone, his tone clipped. “You’ve been acting like an asshole. You can’t just shut out Y/N because you’re stressed, especially not after everything she’s done for you. You pushed her away, and now you’re both suffering.”

Seungmin feels the sting of their words, but he doesn’t let it show. He scoffs. “And what? Now you’re all going to take her side?”

Han meets his gaze with a level look. “No, we’re not ‘taking her side.’ We’re just saying—before she was your girlfriend, she was our friend. We care about her, and we don’t like seeing her go through all this because of you.”

Felix finally looks up, his expression tight with frustration. “She’s been putting on a brave face, but we know it’s tearing her up. She misses you, and instead of working it out, you’re here moping like you’ve been wronged. You’re the one who fucked up, Seungmin.”

The words cut deep, far deeper than Seungmin expects. His chest tightens, and for a moment, he’s at a loss. The guilt from all the tension and unresolved feelings crashes over him, but the anger he’s been holding onto keeps him from fully letting go.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

Han stands up, walking over to the table, his expression softening slightly. “Well you did, and you can’t expect us to ask her to wait for you when you haven’t made any effort to keep her.”

Felix nods in agreement. “Obviously, we don’t want you two to break up, but why should she sit around and wait if you won’t even check on her and let her know you care?”

Seungmin looks down at his hands, feeling embarrassed at their words, despite knowing deep down that they were right. He fucked up, but now he’s in so deep that he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Seungmin’s chest tightens with each passing second, the weight of everything finally hitting him all at once. The guilt, the anger, the frustration—it all comes crashing down. His eyes sting, and before he even realizes it, tears begin to form.

He lets out a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but the emotions he’s been bottling up are overwhelming. The anger he had towards you, the defensiveness, the fear of being vulnerable—it all seems so insignificant now. His mind goes blank, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Felix and Han look at each other in shock. This isn’t the Seungmin they know. He’s always been one to push his issues away in front of other people, and he certainly hasn’t ever cried in front of them like this.

Seungmin’s voice cracks as he finally speaks. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he says, his words barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to make it right. I’m terrified she’s going to leave me.” He wipes at his eyes, as if that could make the feeling go away, but it doesn’t. “I fucked up so bad.”

Felix’s usual calm demeanor softens as he moves to sit next to Seungmin, placing a hand on his back. “Seungmin...” he starts, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve always been the one who holds everything together. But you can’t do that by pushing people away. You know that, right?”

Han joins them, his expression filled with concern. “You’ve always been our rock, but you’re human, man. You make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean it’s over.”

Seungmin looks down, his hands trembling. “But she’s... she’s everything to me. And I hurt her. I don’t deserve her.”

Felix and Han exchange another look, the weight of his words sinking in. After a long pause, Han speaks, his voice softer now. “You fucked up, yeah. But one thing about Y/N is that she’s one of the most forgiving, kind people we know. She won’t walk away from you for making a mistake. And she loves you, Seungmin. Even when you hurt her.”

Seungmin shakes his head, still not able to fully accept it. “But what if... what if she can’t forgive me this time? What if I’ve ruined everything?”

Felix’s hand gently rubs his back, trying to offer some comfort. “You’ve hurt her, but you’re not beyond redemption. You just need to own up to it. Apologize. Show her you’re trying to change.”

Han adds, his voice firm but caring, “You can’t expect everything to go back to normal overnight, but Y/N has always been there for you. She’s patient. And even if she doesn’t take you back, you need to make it right with her, for your own peace of mind at least.”

Seungmin’s breath hitches as he struggles to process their words. He feels so small right now, like he’s lost control of everything, but at the same time, hearing them say that you still love him gives him a small glimmer of hope.

“I don’t deserve her,” he murmurs again, voice thick with emotion.

Felix smiles softly, a bittersweet look in his eyes. “You do. You’re just... human. You’re not perfect, but she loves you anyway. So go and fix it. Don’t let your pride get in the way of what the two of you have built together.”

Han gives him a light shove, a smile tugging at his lips. “And you know, we’re not going to let you off the hook that easy. You’ve got work to do, but you’re going to get through this. And when you do, Y/N will still be there.”

Seungmin wipes at his eyes, taking in a shaky breath. He feels exhausted, emotionally drained, but the weight on his chest is starting to lift just a little. Maybe there’s a way to make things right after all.

“Thanks, guys,” he says, voice still thick with emotion but filled with gratitude. “I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”

Felix and Han both nod, standing up as they ruffle his hair in their usual affectionate way.

“You’re welcome, bro,” Felix says with a soft smile. “Now get to work, and make things right with Y/N.”

Seungmin nods, his heart heavy but determined. The path ahead won’t be easy, but he knows he has to face it, not just for himself, but for you too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning, Seungmin wakes up with a pounding headache, the events of the past few days replaying in his mind. He barely slept, tossing and turning, but now he’s awake, his body exhausted but his mind more clear than it’s been in days.

He stares at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling. The guilt from how he treated you gnaws at him, but so does the realization that he doesn’t want to lose you. He knows he messed up, but now all he can think about is making things right.

The first thing he does is check his phone. There’s a text from you—your usual check-in message, though it’s curt, different from the warm, affectionate messages you used to send him. You’re trying to be polite, trying not to show how much he hurt you. He sees the small signs—an ‘I’m okay’ that doesn’t sound convincing, an emoji that’s more of a placeholder than anything genuine. It stings more than he expected.

He quickly types a reply, his fingers trembling slightly as he types out the words he’s been thinking all night.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t mean what I said. Can we talk later? I’ll be back soon.”

After hitting send, he gets out of bed and heads for the shower, trying to get himself together. He knows it’s going to be a long day, but it’s the first step toward fixing everything.

Checking his phone, he sees a message from you, telling him he can come over. It’s so short and devoid of any personality that it almost makes him reconsider his decision to go see you. He steels his nerves, knowing that he’s the one that did this to you, so it’s his job to fix it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When Seungmin arrives at your apartment later in the afternoon, his nerves are shot. His hands are clammy, and he can barely sit still. It feels like he’s walking into a minefield, unsure of how things will go.

You’re sitting on the couch when he enters, your posture stiff, as if you’ve been waiting for this conversation but dreading it at the same time. Your eyes don’t meet his as he steps inside, and a lump forms in his throat.

He opens his mouth, then closes it. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs to apologize for. He feels stupid for how he acted, for pushing you away when you only wanted to love him. The silence between you both stretches on, neither of you knowing where to begin.

Finally, you sigh and look up at him. Your expression is guarded, but the pain in your eyes is impossible to ignore. It breaks him, but he can’t shy away from it. He has to face it.

“Seungmin, I don’t know what to say,” you say quietly. “I don’t know how you went from being so sweet to... to treating me like that. I get it, you’re busy, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone when you’re around.”

Seungmin feels his heart drop at your words. He takes a step closer, swallowing hard. “I know I hurt you, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I was overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. That’s not your fault. I never should’ve said those things. I just... I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I let everything build up, and I pushed you away when you were just trying to be there for me.” His voice breaks slightly, but he keeps going. “I didn’t mean what I said. I never want you to feel like you’re a burden to me, because you’re not. You’re everything to me.”

You don’t say anything, your gaze fixed on the floor as you process his words. Seungmin takes another step closer, reaching out, but hesitates for a moment before gently placing his hand on yours. You flinch, just barely, but you don’t pull away.

“I love you, Y/N,” he continues, his voice thick with all the feelings he’d been bottling up during his time away. “And I’m terrified that I’ve ruined everything. I know I can’t take back what I said, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I promise.”

There’s a long pause before you finally look up at him, your eyes red, and he can see the raw emotion in them. He realizes you’ve been crying, and it makes him feel worse, knowing how much his actions have hurt you.

“I don’t know if I can just forget it, Seungmin,” you say softly, your voice tinged with sadness. “It hurt too much. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I was just a burden that you had to deal with.”

Seungmin’s chest tightens, and he pulls his hand back, feeling the sting of your words. “I didn’t mean that. You’re more than enough. I’m the one who messed up. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I couldn’t see how much I was pushing you away. And I hate that I did that.”

You look at him for a long moment, your eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge whether he truly means it. You take a deep breath and stand up. For a moment, Seungmin’s heart skips a beat, unsure of what you’re going to do. But you face him, standing in front of him, arms crossed.

“I’m not asking you to fix everything overnight,” you say, your tone firm but soft. “But you have to show me that you’re sorry. That you actually care. I need to know that you want to be here for me, even when things are hard.”

“I do. I do care. More than anything,” Seungmin says, his voice low. “I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’ll show you. I promise.”

You study him for a moment longer before finally nodding, though it’s clear you’re still hurt. “I’m going to need time, Seungmin. I need to trust that you’re not just saying this because you feel guilty. I need you to prove it.”

Seungmin’s heart sinks, but he nods, knowing that you’re right. “I will. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please... don’t give up on me.”

You look at him one last time, your eyes softening a little. “I’m not giving up on you. But you need to work for it.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

As the days pass, Seungmin tries his best to show you that he’s serious about making things right. He’s more attentive, more patient, and he makes an effort to be there for you, even if it’s just for a few minutes every day. He cancels unnecessary meetings, takes time off from work when he can, and always makes sure to check in with you.

You start to soften again, but the walls you put up are still there. It’ll take time, but Seungmin’s determined. This is his chance to prove that he’s worthy of your love, and he won’t let it slip away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 wrote this instead of doing my schoolwork lmao

masterlist.

[plasticferal]

what you want | chris sturniolo.

authors notes: okay i had fun with this one. longer read, finally smut with the love of my life.

warnings: mentions choking, kinda dom!chris but we know he can switch, explicit language, cunnilingus.

you and chris have a complicated relationship. you’re untouchable to him, and as enticing as he is, you enjoy the chase more than the prize. you don’t want to ruin your delusions by giving into him, giving into what you want.

he’s taken it as a challenge, and in his mind you’re already his. he’s made that very clear. the more you push him away the more he wants, so showing up to a house party you explicitly told him you weren’t interested in, is the perfect way to push him over the edge.

you swing the unlocked door open to the all too familiar house. music was blasting from the other side, only getting louder the moment you walk in. bodies move around you with red solo cups in their hand, people were making out in the hallway up the stairs, and eyes glanced up and down your body, making you hyper aware of your short black skirt.

with a sway of your hips as you stroll into the living space, your eyes lock with chris. you watch a smirk grow on his face, licking his lips slowly, and undressing you with his eyes. he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, ankles crossed and one hand gripping the marble. he pushes himself up, and bee-lines for you.

“you made it,” he speaks deeply, sauntering closer to you, snaking an arm around your waist. you grabbed his arm, dropping it quickly.

“yeah, i wanted to see your brothers,” you smile, sickenly sweet, voice laced with sarcasm. he huffs a laugh, rolling his neck.

“not funny,” he replies.

“i thought it was,” you shrug one shoulder and nudge past him, re-directing your route.

“grab me something to drink?” he shouts. you turn on your heels while you walk backward toward the fridge, scrunching an eyebrow.

“come and get it yourself,” you match his tone, earning mumbles and laughs from the house party guests manoeuvring around the kitchen.

“gladly,” not caring about the attention on you two, and he follows you like a puppy.

you pull open the fridge and bring out a cold drink, closing it to see chris leaning a shoulder on the other door.

“you look good” he speaks, unprompted. staring you up and down again.

“i know” you twist the top off, bringing the glass bottle to your lips. he rolls his eyes.

“can i taste some?” he nods toward your drink. you swallow your sip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“come here,” you tempt, holding your drink out, just far enough, but he can’t reach it.

“y’gotta make me work for it?” he asks, shoving one hand into his pant pocket.

“have i ever made anything easy for you?” you grin. he gives a half suppressed laugh, taking the bottle from your hand. he hums after his gulp, wiping his mouth with his thumb.

“it’s nice. you know what would taste better, though?” he speaks as he passes the bottle back to you. you give him a bounce of your eyebrows as if to say ‘keep talking’.

“you.” he finishes. you fake laugh.

“who’s the funny one, now?” you tease.

“it’s always been me, sweetheart,” he winks, earning an eyeroll from you and turning your back on him again.

“where you goin, ma?” he’s hot on your heels, needing to follow the scent of your perfume like a lion to its prey, it drives him crazy.

“your room. i wanna change into a hoodie, something comfortable,” you speak while walking, hoping he can hear you. he’s keeping up, not caring if he’s pushing or shoving past anyone in his way.

to be fair, it’s a lot colder in the house than outside, despite the crowd. really, you just need an excuse to have him linger around you.

you walk and sip your drink, pacing down the stairs before you reach the serenity and contrasting quiet of his room. it’s hidden away from the chaos, and no one’s around now, making hearing him so much easier.

“do you always have to steal mine?” he sounds more enthusiastic about what he says than upset, but yet again he always does when he’s talking to you.

“mhm,” you hum a smile while sipping your drink, pushing his bedroom door open.

“weren’t planning on guests, huh” you mumble, looking around the room that’s in disarray. despite the fact he barely sleeps in his own bed, it’s still a mess. you didn’t expect anything less though.

chris leans both his arms up above his head on the door frame, forcing his hoodie to raise up, revealing the band of his branded boxers and tanned skin that cuts sharp to his waist.

you avoid staring, as much as you want to.

“if i knew you’d be in my room tonight i would have tidied up,” he grins obnoxiously, and you bite your smile back.

finally managing to find a fresh love hoodie that wasn’t tossed or in a dirty wash pile, you set your drink down on his desk. you bring your hands to bottom of your way too tight, kinda itchy, short sleeve shirt, beginning to pull it up but then pausing noticing chris’ stare.

“what, i can’t watch?” he plays dumb, tilting his head and pouting his bottom lip slightly.

“turn around,” you order, using your finger to point to the empty space he should be staring at behind him.

“what if i say please?” he takes half a step into the room before you snap at him again.

“christopher,”

“fine okay,” he whines, turning to face the wall behind him. you watch as he plants his feet, impatiently tilts his head back and forth and fold his arms over his chest.

you pull your shirt off and begin to slide on his hoodie through your arms, then stop in your tracks.

as much you love the fact he’s taking your orders, him finding it hard to resist you makes you rethink. it’s the perfect time to lean into torturing him. just a little.

“actually, chris?” you ask, tone endearing, inviting him to turn around.

“yea-woah,” he elongates his words, stopping suddenly when he turns to face you, being stunned at the sight of you in just your bra and skirt.

“can you find me a different hoodie? i don’t think this one matches my outfit,” you lean your heap out, which makes your ass pop, having one hand on your hip.

“mmm, i think i like this look on you better,” he slowly steps into the room. you ignore him.

“i like the hoodie you’re wearing. can i have it?” you toss the one you’re holding and step closer to him, putting your hands on the bottom of his attire and begin to pull it up. he grabs your wrists, and you’re taken aback by his sharp movement.

“you can have whatever you want from me, y/n,” he then raises his arms, letting you slowly pull the black hoodie over his head, and he’s not wearing a shirt underneath. he shakes his hair, fixing it, and you can’t help but look down his body.

of course he notices, and he’s happy to let you look. more than happy actually. you can see now that the hoodie isn’t hanging past his waist, that his pants are tightening around his cock. the subtle form of his dick pressing against his pants is enough to make you feel hot.

you turn away from him, beginning to put the hoodie over your head when he stops you by pressing his palm to your lower back. he’s towering over your shoulder from behind, and you can smell his cologne strongly. his bare chest brushes your half naked back, and you feel your entire body chill, a contrast to how warm his skin is.

“what else do you want, y/n?” his voice is a low, husky growl in your ear. it makes your breath hitch.

there was only so far you could go with a chase. you wanted the catch now, and he was bait waiting patiently, desperate to be caught. no better time like the present, you think to yourself.

you turn around to face him, chests brushing each other. you look up at him and he tilts his head slightly, absorbing every detail of your face. it’s the first time you’ve felt insecure, and truly exposed around him. he slides the cold tips of his fingers up your arm, over the hill of your shoulder and collar bone, then up your neck, making your knees week.

he uses his thumb and index finger to cup your jawline, giving a squeeze and forcing your head to look up even more, holding eye contact.

“use your words,” he orders.

“i want you.” you’re direct. he knows what you want, just needed to hear you say it.

chris crashes his lips onto yours, his lips are like silk pillows. gentle, but the kiss itself is rough and needy. he slides his tongue between your teeth and let’s it fight with your own, moaning into the kiss. his grip tightens on your throat, forcing you on your tippy toes and grabbing at his chest for support. he pulls away, strands of salvia pulling your lips and he wipes them with this thumb.

“where do you want me, hm?” he asks, loosening his grip and pulling your neck to the side.

he gives himself full access to plant kisses behind your ear and across your skin, near your bra straps. you can’t even think straight.

without using your words, you take his hand from your throat and slide it down your body, past your chest, past your ribs and waist and finally you push his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers hard against your cunt.

“shit, wet already. i haven’t even touched you yet,” he has a jump of amusement in his words.

“then hurry up before i change my mind.” you hold your eye contact with him and you watch as he slowly runs his tongue across his lower lip. he nods, more to himself, like he’s just agreed with his own thoughts.

he moves his hand from between your legs, curling it around your waist then under your ass. he uses both his hands to hike you up, and you wrap yourself around him. he kicks the door closed behind him and throws you on the bed.

chris crawls over you, and you dance your nails across his chest.

“do you know how long i’ve been thinking about this moment?” he asks, leaning down and connecting your lips again.

you grab his hair from behind, pulling the kiss deeper. you both moan into each others mouths, and his hand reaches for your throat again. his touch his gentle though, just kind of resting his hand there.

“i wanna take this off,” he tugs at your skirt with his free hand, pulling away from the kiss and both of your chests are rising and falling rapidly. his lips are hovering over yours and you can’t help but reach up and connect the kiss again. he pulls his face back slightly and you furrow your brows.

“i need you to agree with me, sweetheart” chris says, and you nod your head, giving him the green light to tear your skirt off. it becomes so real when he’s asking for permission instead of just messing around.

he only needs one hand to slide it off your body, and you raise your hips to help shuffle out of it. your panty line touches his lower stomach, and you feel his now hard cock press into your skin.

“chris, take them off,” you tug at the waistband of his pants.

“whatever you say,” and you chuckle at his response.

he shuffles them down, managing to kick them off the lower half of his body. your mouth is almost watering at the sight of how hard he is, pre-cum drenching the grey fabric.

chris has his hands planted either side of your head, and you lay gazing up at him. the look that his icy blue eyes give you is hypnotic.

“you know what i want, y/n?” the slight strain in his voice makes you want to pull him to you.

“what do you want, chris?” your tone is soft and airy, and it makes his cock twitch.

“i wanna hear you scream my name,” he plants a kiss to your collar bone. “i want you to cry out for me,” he kisses your stomach. “i wanna make you cum on my face” he kisses your pelvic bone.

he looks up at you from your crotch, his hands intertwining with yours by your sides. he takes your panties between his teeth and drags them down to your thighs.

chris dives between your heat and with an open mouth, sucking hard. his tongue is pressed hard against your clit and swirls circles around, making your body jolt and fuck into his face hard. he growls into your skin, eating you out like he’s been starved for a decade. you release your hands from his and dig your nails into his shoulders. you quite literally think you’re about to draw blood with the pressure you’re using.

“fuck, o-oh, chris,” you pant.

“m’god you taste so good,” he mumbles into your cunt, licking up your folds and circling, wiping his mouth and then going straight back in.

he takes two of his fingers and presses them against your entrance. he spits hard, and you gasp.

“sh-shit,” you roll your head back and flutter your eyes closed. he pushes his ring and index finger into you and curls upward, hitting your walls. he fucks his fingers back and forth into you while continuing to stimulate you with his tongue.

he hits a spot on your clit that almost makes you shatter then and there.

“right there right there right there” you plea, squeezing his hair in your fist. your legs are shaking and thighs are squeezing his head.

chris wraps his free hand up behind the back of your knee, so you’re like a vine wrapped around his arm. he pulls you so you’re tight around his face and grinding into his mouth.

“g-god i’m s’close,” you exhale, neck straining into the pillow. chris hums against your heat and the bed underneath you is drenched, a mix of your juices and his saliva.

his fingers curl and thrust and the sounds are so loud. the moans parting your lips are making chris rub into the quilt underneath with his dick. you’re convinced he could make himself cum from hearing you alone, with how dire his need is for friction.

your stomach knots and heat rises across your body. you thrust your hips up and chris’ face follows, gluing himself to you, pulling you close.

“i wanna hear you, pretty girl. say my name,” he’s catching his breath between his words before working on you again.

“chris oh my god, fuck, FUCK,” you scream out, pulling so hard on his hair you’re not sure how you didn’t pull any out.

your climax build up so fast that you feel you’re about to black out, chris moans into you and finally pulls away to let you cum. you’re shaking and clawing at any surface you can, the bed sheets, his skin, yourself.

opening your eyes finally you watch as he licks you up hard and slow one more time, and you twitch with shock. and his face is a glistening mess. his fingers slide out of your pussy and he brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

“holy shit,” you’re struggling to regain your train of thought, and chris is crawling back up your body. he drops beside you with a hand on your waist, turning you so you’re both lying facing each other.

“that’s a sight i could get used to,” he presses your lips together again, and you’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, tasting it on your lips.

“that’s a feeling i could get used to,” you agree, and for once, you’re on the same page.

“now chris,” you speak, shifting onto his lap.

“yeah?” he traces his eyes over your body, hands on your thigh, looking up at you.

“what else do you want?” you mimic his actions, kissing his chest, down his torso, to his very subtle snail trail and hips. you feel his hips roll, and know he’s dying to break free of his boxers.

he stops you from getting too far down and grabs your cheeks between his grip, making you look at him again.

“i wanna fuck that pretty mouth,” he states, watching a satisfied smile grow on your face.

“how bad do you want it?” you tease.

“so bad, y/n,”

the moment you hook your fingers onto his waist band is the moment a pounding knock at his bedroom door is heard. you both audibly groan and you roll off of him, flailing onto the mattress.

chris jumps off the bed and adjusts himself in his boxers, wincing as he does. you can only assume how much built up pressure there is that he’s waiting to release.

“what?” he opens the door just a crack, so only his head is peaking out. you hear matt’s voice on the other side and he’s begging chris to come back up to the party. which you had forgotten about by this point.

“alright alright, i’ll come up.” you hear chris’s frustrated tone snap back. he slams the door shut and scratches his head, sauntering back over to the bed. you support yourself on your elbows and watch him walk back.

“you’re going back upstairs?” you piece his sentence and actions together.

“fuck no, come here.”

needless to say your relationship has become a lot more complicated. maybe it’s less of a what you both want, but what you need.

[slutt4ellie]

Fated Hearts Start With Fire

PT5 - Holidays Hearts

masterslist

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 6 // PART 7

Moving to a new city is tough, but it’s even harder when your roommate is a dick.

Summery - After you invite Ellie to travel back with you to your home town she immediately denies. But after a bit of convincing everything works well.

- - (It goes straight from part 4 so re-read if you gotta)

Warnings -> Miscommunication (Mia & Reader) / Readers in a relationship / Reader definitely self sabotages 🗣️ / JEALOUSLY / TENSION / Loser!Ellie if you squint? / Readers dad is weird idk? /Kissing / Cheating 😬 / Eventual smut / (Lmk if I missed anything)

WC: 5.6k

(Not proofread!)

“No!”

Ellie all but laughs in your face. Going to your hometown? Literally alone with nothing but your family and friends.

Yeah no fucking way.

She all much rather stay all alone in your shared apartment, beats introducing herself to a fuck ton of new people.

Yet her reply from your point of view has you confused? Because why not come? It 100% beats staying home alone in your shared apartment. She’s just being stubborn at this point??

“Ellie come on!” You say putting your hands in a praying position, trying to emphasize you really do want her to come.

“No dude!” Ellie again immediately denies shaking her head. She’s not going to fold under pressure. At least she’ll try not to!

“Why??” You say a whining tone leaking.

The foundation Ellie just put up. The one where she’s not going to fold? That’s definitely breaking as soon as that tone leaked.

But she regains and starts adding more support, she just shakes her head while not breaking eye contact with you? Trying to prove that stupid fucking tone didn’t affect her.

“Because!- just invite your girlfriend??” Ellie says.

That sentence does actually bring you back to reality. Fuck you haven’t even asked Mia yet, yet you’re practically begging for Ellie to join you. Hands cuffed in a prayer and all.

“I-I will! But Mia probably has plans with her family? So why don’t you come?” You say looking as her a pout now apparent on your bottom lip.

Ellie groans, her hand sliding down her face.

No, no, no.

“No..” Ellie sighs.

“Im not intruding on your family shit because mine aren’t available.” Ellie again shakes her head. Despite the fact your words are actually getting to her. She’s a adamant on denying, at least for as long as she can.

“Yeah but you’re not intruding? My parents hardly care? They’d probably be happy to see a friend i’ve made here! I think they think i’m lying” You laugh trying to ease Ellie’s discomfort about the whole situation. Trying to prove to her that you really want her to come.

You can tell the whole family situation is definitely rough. Because she’s told you a lot about herself but she’s pretty prominent about not mentioning that.

A clear example is when you guys you first started actually being friends, you almost instantly told her about your family, trying to make a perfect opening for her to share insight on hers. But instead she just shook it off.

She basically stopped talking and didn’t continue to press further into the conversation.

“Thank you- but no thank you.” Ellie again denies this time waving her hand. Making a valid point she doesn’t want to.

“I’m okay staying here and just chilling.” Ellie smiles at you.

You frown.

“Ellie.” You talk.

“Yeah?” Ellie says.

“Please.” You again beg. Now the desperate act is coming out.

You don’t even know why you want her to come so bad. Well sorta..

The main thing which is actively pushing you to invite Ellie, is no other than Mia.

It’s selfish. 100%.

But you literally don’t want to face her anymore. It’s to awkward and maybe if Ellie comes it’s going to push her away? Make her go enjoy Christmas with her family.

At least that’s what you’ll hope.

“Why do you want me to come so bad?” Ellie single handily rips the words from your train of thought.

And now you’re derailed.

You feel like the train just crashed into a dead end because you have almost nothing to defend with.

You’re not leading with the fact you’re avoiding your girlfriend. But it’s also weird why you’re so alluded with Ellie coming back to your hometown to spend Christmas with you and your family.

“Fine-don’t worry about it..“ You just groan, a clear annoyed tone as you begin to walk away. Which Ellie picked up immediately.

You know it was 100% pity and weird you relied on full guilt tripping, but you’re helping out Ellie at the end of the day..! Just giving her a light push.

You lightly close your eyes as you walk down the hall.. You didn’t know if it would work but then again you never know…

It was a solid two steps before there was a light grip on your wrist.

As you turn your eyes are met with green ones. Ellie’s looking at you, and just by the way her eyes are scanning through yours and no longer have a presence of unsureness. You know she 100% folded.

“O-okay i’ll come-“ Ellie sighs looking down, hand still on your wrist.

“Yeah??” You say with an excited tone. “You’re not just saying that.” You decide to clarify. I mean you hope she’s not just saying it.

“No..no- I just don’t wanna like intrude.” Ellie’s close to you.

Close enough to the point it’s falling into territory none of you are used to, but you both seem to be to distracted on a different fact right now. The one that has Ellie coming to your hometown.

“You’re not?” You smile at her to which she nods, slowing sighing.

“You did that on purpose.” Ellie tilts her head and smiles.

“I have zero clue what you’re talking about??” You say looking at Ellie. You know what she’s talking about? I mean you 100% guilt tripped her, having her feel a sense of guilt. But you’re avoiding that!

Ellie dramatically turns around and huffs. “Fine!”

You laugh and grab her wrist now mimicking Ellie’s actions. A perfect mirror of what just happened.

Ellie also laughs now that your mimicking her. “You’re so dramatic??”

You shake your head. “Am not!”

Ellie laughs “You fucking huffed then walked down the hall!”

Ellie points with her opposite hand to avoid the possibility of her forcefully making you let go of her wrist. Something she’s doing on purpose.

“You were being annoying-!” You say pushing you finger in the middle of her collar bone.

“Ellie please come with me!” Ellie says mocking you, which means her voice strained into a whining one that unfortunately appeared as a weird fucking whimper..

Her smile fades when her brain trails into a thought process allowing her to actually dwell on what she said.

So now her face is turning red and the laugh she was just previously ensuing on was dying into an uncomfortable awkward silence.

“Huh!?” You whisper yell straight in Ellie’s directions. A silent understanding that Mia’s still currently asleep in your bed, having you want to do anything you really can not to wake her up right now.

“I-I didn’t even mean it like that freak?” Ellie groans, a desperate attempt to hide how embarrassed she is.

“When did I ever even fucking say ‘Please come with me Ellie!’” Your tone again now leaking with a whine.

Ellie actually needs to go to bed.

Because maybe it’s the fact she’s tired, and honestly a little sleep deprived.

Or that your hand is still looped around her wrist.

But those 5 whiny words shouldn’t have caused an ache in the middle of her legs she couldn’t ignore.

Fuck.

“Whatever i’m going to bed..!” Ellie says now being the first to take your grip away from her wrist. Something she tried to avoid a mere minutes ago.

“Alright, alright.” You smile.

“Goodnight..!” You add on a few seconds later.

Ellie practically rushes to her room. Because it’s extremely fucking evident the little back and forth banter between you two had did not have the same affect on you which it had on her..!

Ellie needs to get fucking sleep. Get her mind to stop racing..

You two are just friends, she knows that.

The last thing she wants is to have yet another Cat situation.

✧☾༻✩༺☽✧

When you woke up and an arm was still presently draped over you, your mind raced.

It’s like you fully forgot the events of last night.

The ones with Mia..

And shamefully you wished it stayed that way.

The worst part is you don’t even know why?

Mia is fucking great, you’ve had almost zero reason to want to avidly push her away. She’s never done anything remotely mean and last night she was perfect.

Saying the right things, making sure you were comfortable and putting herself last. Making sure you enjoyed yourself first before she was even a fucking thought..?

So why do you wish you were waking up in a bed which is just full of you. Empty is something you prayed you’d never feel yet right now it’s all you’re praying for to happen.

And why?

Not even you know?

That’s something that keeps ending with dead ends.

Mia hums against your neck as her parted lips stay on them. She’s awake which isn’t a surprise, you’re little ruffles you made as you awakened probably had her eyes fall open not to long after.

“Hi..” She says, sighing, her eyes finally opening, and for the first time since last night her ocean blue eyes are rested on your face. Gaze refusing to break.

“Hey..” You smile. It’s fake, but it’s the best you can do as of now.

She leans in and gives you a light kiss on your cheek.

“Sleep okay?” Mia ask as she observes your face. Making sure you’re not lying or something.

“Mhm.? All good- what about you” You say trying to change the subject, trying to get her eyes off you even if it’s just for a second.

Because regardless of you lying or not her gaze is something you’re not enjoying right now?

“Yeah. It was good, last night was really nice. You were really nice.” Mia smiles kissing your cheek once again..!

“It was!” You say a fake excited tone accidentally making an appearance, luckily for you, Mia must have been to focused on kissing you, because now it’s going to your jaw, then neck.

Last night felt like boundary both of you overstepped. Because instead of literally just a week prior, Mia isn’t hesitating to kiss your neck. She’s assuming your okay with it.

And it’s not like it’s making you uncomfortable and you want her off of you, it’s just something that you wish maybe wasn’t happening right now. So you talk.

“M-mia can we talk..? Just quickly.” You say as you voice cracks..

It’s about time you give her insight on the fact you fucking invited Ellie instead of her to your parents, that being said though it’s not like she’s unwelcome to come.

She’s completely allowed. It’s just the probably odd you didn’t hesitate to invite your fucking roommate…

“Uh-oh?” Mia chuckles pulling back from your neck. She assumes you just being funny or something? That fades quick. Because when she sees you replied with a nervous smile, she takes your outlook, now becoming openly nervous..

“Fuck what’s wrong?” Mia says looking at you.

“Just Ellie and I-“ You try to think of how to word it properly. But currently nothings coming to your head. It feels like a broken electrical circuit no longer getting responses.

Mias smile fades when she hears the mention of Ellie. Because why the fuck did you say it like you and Ellie are some ‘thing’. Or even like you did something?

Mia would never suspect you of cheating- she doesn’t think you cheated. It’s just the sentence ‘Just Ellie and I” Could have a shit ton of add ons? That’s what she didn’t like.

“I-I invited Ellie to go back to my hometown for Christmas..and i’m sorry- because I know I should have asked you first. And-“ You shove your head in your hands embarrassed at the fact you feel like you could cry. You know if you continue you will cry.

Yet don’t get anything twisted, Mia felt a strong pang of jealously- but you and her have been dating for a solid month, she didn’t except you to ask her to come to your literal home town for Christmas, at the end of the day she knew you actually didn’t owe her anything. So even though she’s not to fond of the fact you’ll be going back to your hometown with Ellie, she knows you two are friends.

And that offers comfort.

“Hey-hey it’s fine..” Mia softly chuckles bringing your hands down from your face and kissing them lightly. “I have plans with my family- I assumed we weren’t gonna go head first into plans with family’s.”

“Oh..” Now you feel stupid because you were about to bawl over something that definitely wasn’t that deep. “I just-“ You start but Mia waves her hand dismissively.

“It’s fine. I swear.” Mia smiles kissing the corner of your lips..

“Plus, we have so many future Christmas’ and shit. This is just one out of many.” Mia says.

“Right?” You say in a breathless sigh now starting to calm down. “Now I feel stupid!” You chuckle and Mia shakes her head.

“No don’t!” Mia kisses you, you respond by slotting your lips right back on hers enveloping in a passionate kiss.

And that’s how you and Mia left it. Obviously you texted a lot but now it was time to go to your home town and you sorta just wanted to disconnect.

Because not only were you going with Ellie but you’re finally going to be able to see your family after a few months so you were beyond fucking excited. With a twinge of jealousy!

You and Ellie got on the plane no problem but now sitting down you can see Ellie’s hands fidget with plane seat buckle. A common sign she was nervous.

Learning Ellie’s nervous ticks was easy, because she has three she’ll always do.

Number one fidgeting with something close by.

If not that then number two. Playing with her index and middle.

And finally biting her bottom lip.

You see her top teeth slowly sit on her bottom lip.

She was nervous but you knew why.

One thing Ellie strongly emphasized that she fucking hated flights, she hated heights since she was a kid and that being said she was completely okay with the fact she’s never been on a plane.

“I don’t get how you can be scared of flights but you wanna go to space..?” You tease looking at her.

“Fuck you.” Ellie groans. Unlike her joking tone this does come out as more cold? Which you know why, she’s trying to hide that she’s extremely nervous.

“Wow! I feel like I just got flashbacks..!” You smile nudging her.

“Fuck off man.” Ellie smiles, now she’s looking at you trying to avoid the fact they’re taking off in a few minutes.

Her eyes just trail back and forth for a solid 20 seconds before looks down and clears her throat.

“And spaceships are different.” Ellie says.

“Mhm?” You say looking at her.

“Then imagine we’re on a spaceship?” You add and Ellie laughs.

“It’d be a pretty shitty spaceship.” Ellie sighs and then the intercom comes on announcing the plane is ready for take off.

“Fuck.” Ellie sits up.

You hold out your hand not thinking much about it before it happens. Because you’re just being a fucking good friend! Nothing deep, nor something to look into!

Ellie also doesn’t think much, because it didn’t take long before she sat her hand open on yours intertwining her fingers. She hates how fucking fast her nerves relaxed after you and her were holding fucking hands.

Because just like that her heart stopped racing and the feeling of taking off was the last thing on her mind.

It felt like a blacked out room with a spotlight shined on just you two.

Ellie knows she’s being weird, she thinks it’s the fact that since your roommates you’ll always be in a close proximity, so when building a bond the friendship lines get foggy.

Something that happened with Cat, and something which is happening with you.

The biggest factor on the plan which was weird was the fact you and Ellie held hands for a solid 30 minutes after the plane took off.

And you don’t really know why? It just happened. Everything with you two just seems to mistakenly happen.

It’s not like you were doing it purposefully, it was just after the 10 minutes it was a bit hard to let go of her hand smoothly so you two just watched movies holding hands a bit after the plane took off.

There was an underlining of comfort as well? When both of you are together there’s something you can’t really avoid?

You’re just good friends in that sense.

Nothing weird about that?..

Plus after you two got off the plane and through security it felt stupid to mention!

Talking about it would have just been more awkward and unnecessary!

So that’s what you two both purposefully did? Not mention it.

You and Ellie both just shuffled your things in the trunk of taxi before you guys get into the back seat..

When you tell the taxi driver the location and your gaze is completely focused on him, Ellie finally looks at you.

The moment on the plane was weird, and Ellie didn’t fully understand.

The last thing she wants to be is a home wrecker.

But maybe you two were being friendly, she’s seen a shit ton of friends hold hands, you guys might just be shifting into a physical friendship and nothing is wrong with that!

At least she rather come up with that solution instead of maybe expanding on the fact she might be falling for yet another roommate which at this point is getting fucking old.

The Cat situation should have ruined that possibility yet here she fucking is.

You finally turn your gaze to the back seat no longer focused on the man and quickly noticed how Ellie’s gaze was straight on you.

She tried to smoothly clear her throat and look away but you just chuckled, again not taking it as serious as she was.

“You good.” You ask.

“Just nervous I guess?” Ellie wasn’t lying but it was also a smooth excuse to hide the fact she was just hardcore staring at you.

“My parents are nice- promise” You look at her offering a smile to ease Ellie’s nerves.

Ellie feels like she should ask, like she needs to ask.

Because after what happened with her parents she just rather avoid it if she can.

“You’re out to them right? Or like no.” Ellie ask her voice cracking which she clears once again.

“Oh yeah! I literally came out at like 10 because I wouldn’t shut up about how hot the Elizabeth girl from Pirates of the Caribbean was?” You laugh which also makes Ellie laugh along.

Well at least Ellie doesn’t have to lie to your parents or some shit. “K-yeah cool.” Ellie nods.

“You good?” You ask looking at Ellie.

“Mhm- i’m good” Ellie says looking at you.

“Okay” You tilt your head before looking out the window.

Seeing your old town has put you into the realization that nothings really changed. The shops stayed the same, with the exception of a few new ones you hadn’t noticed before.

You can tell somethings prioritizing Ellie’s mind but you rather not push or question it? She seems to be an overall private person and practically forcing her out of her comfort zone seems rude.

You just decided to get comfortable in your seat for a few minutes before you arrive.

Which really didn’t take long, because soon you’re pulling into the house you called home for so many years, and instead of walking in alone, or with Alex and Jess. This time it’s you and Ellie.

You just grab your suitcase exiting the car.

“I can grab that?” Ellie points to your suitcase as her left hand grips hers.

“It’s fine- if anything I should be carrying yours.” You chuckle at her request.

“You’ll be hugging your family and shit? I’ll just grab it weirdo” Ellie fully takes it into her own hand reaching her right hand forward to grab your suitcase.

“All right, all right- thank you.” You say walking up to the front door.

And even though it’s your family your mind is racing about whatever the fuck is going to transfer. You just hope it’s positive.

But before you can open the door, your mom does.

Her eyes are excited and she immediately lunged forward to hug no other than you..!

“You’re home!!” You’re mom says while hugging and kissing all over your cheeks earning a stupid chuckle from Ellie which she “smoothly” covered with a cough.

“Yeah!” You say, you barley hid the fact you’re extremely embarrassed because it was super apparent in your tone and pink cheeks.

You mom then pulls back from you and smiles. “Who’s this!”

Your mom knows who the fuck it is, because you told her Ellie’s coming as soon as you got okay.

“H-hi!” Ellie spits out nervously, she puts down your suit case to hold out her hand. An invitation for your mom to shake it.

Ellie’s super fucking nervous. Because after her relationship with her parents came down with a big tumble, opening up to other people’s seemed off.?

Like she couldn’t properly function, it almost felt like she was constantly on thin ice.

Plus Ellie doesn’t really know if you told your mom about the shitty roommate. Which would be horrible because she’s the fucking shitty roommate?! She wouldn’t even be shocked if you did? Fuck she was horrible.

“Ah we don’t need handshakes!” Your mom fully takes Ellie by the shoulder and hugs her tightly. Having Ellie drop the other suitcase to her feet.

Ellie doesn’t know what to do other then reciprocate it, so that’s all she does, just wraps her arms around your mom?

“It was Ellie right.?” Your mom says her gaze not leaving Ellie’s.

Ellie just nervously nods. She’s never had someone be extremely nice without even knowing her.

Which she’s now starting to understand where you got it.

Because even on the day when you first moved in, you weren’t automatically mean, even though Ellie was rude for the whole first day, you managed to put up with it before finally snapping back on the second day.

“Yeah..!” Ellie smiles awkwardly stepping back.

“It’s nice to meet you-” Ellie signals to you about to continue the conversation.

Then your dad walks out. He’s a stocky man, a bit scary looking, with permanent furrowed eyebrows.

You’d like to say it’s all some facade and he’s a real softie under the rough skin.

But no.

He’s always will silently judge, somethings he’s done your whole life, giving his thoughts despite not really asking for it, he’ll always supply it.

“Hey kid.” You’re dad nods a head to you. He’s not a hugger. A drastic change from someone like your mother. You don’t really know how they ended up together.

“Hey dad..!” You smile and look at him.

Your dad doesn’t reply after that, he turns his attention to Ellie.

“This the girlfriend?” He says his eyes trailing up and down her, you can tell he again is fucking judging.

Yet Ellie’s not even your girlfriend! So he’s judging her for no reason?..

“N-no that’s Mia- this is Ellie.” You say directed to your dad despite you looking at Ellie, her face is now red and she seems embarrassed.

Fuck this is awkward.

“I-It’s nice to meet you.” Ellie smiles awkwardly at your dad. She feels she should shake his hand yet his gaze has her fall nervous. So she doesn’t. She just occupies both hands with the suitcases

“Quite young for a tattoo hm?” You dad says clearing his throat, slowly turning his attention to Ellie’s tattoo.

You never understood why your dad says or does some things? But either way he does and you can’t really change it, this conversation between him and Ellie, it’s one of the ones where you don’t understand why the fuck he’s doing it.

“Oh uh-“ Ellie’s cut off by your words.

“We should really settle in. The flight was long..!” You chuckle a desperate attempt to clear the awkwardness which is looming.

Ellie nods and looks at your parents. “It was really nice to meet you both.” Ellie nods towards them before the everyone starts to head inside.

After you showed Ellie the spare bedroom it didn’t take long till there was a light knock on your bedroom who you can only assume is her.

She did tell you once she was done unpacking she’ll come to your room.

“Come in?” Your voice echos through the bedroom as you sit on your queen bed.

As you guess Ellie’s auburn hair and green eyes come poking through the door.

“Oh i’m the fucking nerd?” Ellie immediately says with a sarcastic chuckle.

She starts walking into your room before sitting on your bed a decent amount of distance between you and her. Her eyes trail throughout your room and she scouts the many different movie posters, books, journals scattered throughout your bedroom.

“Fuck off..!” You chuckle looking back at Ellie.

“No- you fucking bullied me for my space shit” Ellie says laughing. “I get to bully you!” Ellie says pointing right at you.

“Because that’s objectively nerdy! You like space! I just like reading and writing.” You try to defend yourself.

“Yeah, yeah nerd.” Ellie scoffs which earns a little smile from you despite you actually wanting to laugh. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.!”

You roll your eyes and look at Ellie. “Im gonna kick you out?”

Ellie chuckles and shakes her head. “Okay i’m sorry!”

It’s a bit of silence before you finally speak again.

“Get settled in okay?” You ask looking at her.

She bites her lip, looking down before shortly nodding. “Oh yeah, all good.” Ellie offers you a smile to try and distract you from any red flags that she might be uncomfortable.

Yet it didn’t really help or work, you noticed right away.

“You alright?” You ask looking at her.

“Yeah- no good. I’m happy you invited me.” Ellie wasn’t lying at the last part. She was super happy she decided to come with you, it’s just-

“My dad?” You question looking at Ellie. You basically finished her thoughts.

“I-Did I say something wrong- because people- he just seemed-“ As soon as you questioned it Ellie’s mouth wasn’t going to stop. She was ranting.

So you took it into your own hands and looked at her.

“Ellie I swear he’s just weird and like that with everyone. Like i’m his daughter and you saw how weird he is with me!” You say looking at her. Despite not being even the single bit religious you prayed her words offered comfort.

Ellie let’s out a show sigh of relief. “Fuck okay good! I thought I said something” Ellie laughs lightly.

“Like the tattoo comment was-“ Ellie starts.

“Fucking dumb!” You tilt your head.

“Your tattoo is cool.” You add on chuckling.

It took about ten seconds before your hand started making its way to travel over the different intricate details.

“Yeah?” Ellie ask going a tad bit closer. Both your shoulders now touching as her arm is hovered above both of your thighs.

“Mhm?” You say looking at her, she slowly mirrors your movements.

And in that moment you know if either of you decide to even lean in just a little further your noses would touch.

You start to think what’d you do, something you’ve purposefully deterred your mind from going. Blocking off those openings before they could even get through. But now they were flowing and you couldn’t stop it?

Like if she leaned in would you do the same...?Would you kiss Ellie bac-

What the fuck, you have a fucking girlfriend.

And you couldn’t sworn Ellie’s eyes were fluttering shut, a sign to back the fuck up. And that’s what you did.

“Uh- dinners probably like basically ready.” You stand up awkwardly rolling your hands down your clothes an attempt for them to appear more straight.

While also making an effort to avoid her gaze without making it look more forceful?

Ellie also stands up, the main bit of her head being filled with confusion- because why did it seem like you wanted to kiss her two seconds ago, and now you can barley look at her.

“Right..cool.” Ellie sounded just the slightest bit immature but in her defence you made her feel stupid? Like was she interpreting that whole situation wrong.

“What..?” You ask, almost like she’s crazy for feeling embarrassed.

“Didn’t say anything” Ellie gives a fake smile before opening your bedroom door.

When she opens the door you walk through first and you hear her trailing after you.

You and Ellie hardly talked through dinner, little chip ins from both of you, but when you did the conversation was usually to other people.

So if you were talking i’d be to your parents, avoiding Ellie, and vice versa.

The main reason is because it just so happens both of your minds are occupied from the fact you two almost kissed.

It was like that for at least a little. Till your dad decided to talk.

“So Ellie? What’s your family doing for Christmas.” His mouth is still in the middle of chewing food, his hand reaches for his glass and he tilts it back swallowing back a large swig of wine.

Ellie finishes what’s in her mouth before talking. “Not really sure?”

She says it casually. Like not knowing what your family’s up to is the normal, yet for her it is?

“Why’s that..?” He says rubbing the back of his hand on his outer lips, getting any excess droplets of wine or even food.

“Honey.?” Your eyes shift from Ellie’s uncomfortable gaze to your moms. She’s clearly trying to get him to back off from the conversation, yet he keeps going.

“What- were taking a kid in for Christmas so I’m just overall interested what her parents are doing? You know as in why she’s joining us?” He shrugs, It’s like the fact he’s opening up his home gives some moral right to know?

And for that reason you can tell your dad won’t back off.

Not till her gets an answer that is.

“Dad?..” You say looking at him shaking your head.

Now Ellie’s uncomfortable, because at least in her mind she feels everyone wants to know a little sob story as to why she isn’t with her parents right now.

In stead she’s with her roommates parents.

Ellie just clears her throat. Her eyes are noticeably getting glossy and that’s her cue to leave.

“Sorry excuse me..” Ellie wipes the napkin down her lips and silently pulls back from the pulled in chair. She makes her exit b-lining straight for the bathroom.

Once Ellie’s gone you groan at your dad. “Seriously?” You clearly annoyed and he picks it up. But instead he just shrugs?

“What did I say? I simply asked a question” He says.

“Which she didn’t want to answer!” You’re now always pulling back your chair making an open exit for you. “Fuck.”

He tsk silently. “Language.”

“I’m gonna go check on her.” You sigh starting to walk down the open hallway.

You quickly turn back to your mom. “Thanks for dinner.”

She nods in response while muttering something to your dad. You hope it’s putting him in his fucking place.

You don’t know if that man just doesn’t have social cues but fuck sometimes he needs to read a room..

It didn’t take long to find Ellie, she only knew where one of the 2 bathrooms were so once you heard distance sniffling in the one planted beside your bedroom you knock on the door.

“Mhm?” Ellie’s voice try’s to come out as full and clear but it’s sounded more desperate and sad.

“Can I come in?” You ask.

“I’m okay..? Trust me?” Ellie says clearing her throat.

You can tell she’s not okay. But mentioning that didn’t seem important, so you just nodded in understanding before talking.

“Okay well can we talk, even if your okay..?” You ask.

A little sigh comes out then a click of the lock comes through.

You open the door and you see Ellie’s eyes are red.

After seeing that sight you hugged her.

Ellie wraps her arms under your arms which are looping around her neck. She hesitantly put her chin on your shoulder as you did the same.

“I’m okay..” Ellie sighs in your shoulder.

“Mhm..” You just nod against her shoulder.

“Sorry my dads a dick.” You say.

“Mine probably worse?” Ellie let’s out a chuckle, it’s dry and forced.

You pull back and look at her eyes.

You can feel her arms trail down your back finding a resting spot on your waist.

“I swear I don’t cry a lot.” Ellie chuckles once more. This time sounding a bit more real.

“That’s becoming hard to believe.?” You say tilting your head, Your hands come from around her neck and sit on her cheeks wiping any left over tears.

Ellie’s grip on your waist tightens just a little, she doesn’t want you to pull back but she knows what she’s doing right now, what she wants to happen, She knows it isn’t right.

Either way she can’t control her eyes from glancing at your lips..

She looked at them for a few seconds before glancing back at your eyes.

She sees how your eyes are now glancing back and forth between her eyes and lips..

Without thinking she presses a soft kiss to your lips holding your cheek..

A/N -> BOOOOOO CHEATER 👎🏽👎🏽👎🏽👎🏽

I actually don’t know what the fuck to write for the AN! But I really did enjoy writing this chapter, and i have so much planned for the next one 😋

i promise i won’t take as long 🙏🙏🙏 (maybe)

I’m just so fucking busy with school and work, so this happens to always be the last thing on my mind.

I’ll try to be consistent with summer but then again i’m insanely busy in that time period too?

Other then that I’m gonna start working on hearts over hierarchy

happy pride month btw!!

and that’s all, hope you enjoyed reading this 😈

(Like and reblogs are so appreciated!)

Taglist - @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @shiimer @boobdrug @amberputh @macaroni676 @soupycloud @seraphicsentences @eringranola @mikellie

[k2ntoss]

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

[soundlesswind]

Mononoke: Karakasa Review

Mononoke - Phantom in the Rain

Now that it's officially out globally, I can finally offer some thoughts and reflections on the long-awaited continuation of the cult-beloved Ayakashi/Mononoke series. My main tagline for this review can be summarized thusly:

I liked it...but it could have been better.

(~ not spoiler free, read at your own discretion ~)

Karakasa: Visually, it's a bang---structurally, it's a bomb. That about sums up how I feel about the movie overall. It's vibrant, beautiful, and full of intricate patterning and details, and is in a way: both a step up and a step down from the original.

...But what do I mean by that really? Well, I think we need to first highlight what makes Karakasa and Mononoke rather different.

Ayakashi/Mononoke has a much slower pacing, with slightly more muted, and washed-aesthetic tone despite its colourful designs. It shifts from being more colourful or more sombre depending on the type of scene it wants to depict. But even at its most saturated, it never gets quite as vibrant in contrast compared to Karakasa. ...However, you could say that may be in part due to the sheer difference in animation techniques developed over the course of nearly a decade between the two (2006/2007 vs 2024).

That isn't to say Karakasa doesn't have moments of dark imagery, but that even at its darkest, it remains distinctly vibrant and high-in-contrast. You could argue for it as a conscientious choice...but personally, at its root: Mononoke is a horror-ghost story; and the gritter, muddled palettes rather add to that charm.

(2007 Mononoke - Noppera-bou, and Nue)

(2024 Karakasa)

To match its mood, Mononoke also has a much slower cadence and story tempo, despite any singular arc being overall shorter than Karakasa. That cadence adds to another difference: which is spookiness. I find Mononoke to be far spookier and more effortlessly imposing than Karakasa. There's a bit of tension and suspense in the way it's presented: both visually and vocally* (a point I'll bring up later). Mononoke is sometimes boldly laid out in seemingly disjointed flashes, but still somehow ends up cohesive and immersive with its themes and motifs; feeding you just enough information to wet your appetite as to where and just how far it wants to take you. And this is of course, done in parts over the span of 2-3 episodes.

Karakasa on the other hand, has a pacing that feels like a marathon. It seems almost lightning fast, despite the first half of the movie being entirely sociopolitical intrigue without much in the way of anything overtly youkai-esque. In fact, our Medicine Seller doesn't even step foot into the Ooku (women's court) until around 40 minutes in...which is nearly half the movie! ...But naturally, since it's a movie, it will be movie-formatted. Everything is going to run as if it were one singular episode long. --- Still, what does that mean for the pacing?

If you don't know what "tea house tales" "is.....it's basically a format of short stories told over several sessions. It's one of the ways people in the historic East used to tell stories. They'd gather around somewhere, drink tea, eat snacks and share a bit of light entertainment. In the same way the episodic nature of Mononoke is somewhat reminiscent of that. Each part feeds you a bit of information, a bit of mystery, a bit of suspense, and a bit of action. It keeps you sufficiently entertained one way or another without stringing you on far too long before any sort of climactic reveal. In this way, Mononoke feels more balanced and evened out than Karakasa. But even the format aside, I found Karakasa a lot less clear and concise with what it's trying to portray. There were parts of the movie I had to re-watch a few times or sit down and think about afterwards just to fully understand what I think it was alluding to, which wasn't an issue with Mononoke whatsoever. The plot, both visually and thematically was always clear as day for the original series, where as Karakasa sort of muddles on and off between mystery and court drama over the course of an hour and a half.

Personally...I think one of the detriments to Karakasa is the sheer size of its cast. There were simply way too many characters (27+), and some of them even have overlapping roles. There were also quite a few without clear rhyme or reason. For example, we get introduced to Tenshi, Mizoragi and the moon twins, and an assortment of other characters who don't really have much of a presence in the movie (other than to to be positional seat warmers) and are shown for a collective total of a few minutes. Karakasa IS a trilogy however, so it's possible that their roles may be elaborated in future movies, but in regards to the current film, they feel like a distraction. I guess they're going grand and all out, but the benefits of a smaller cast is that you get more intimate with each character and their already very limited screentime. It just wasn't possible for me to feel any intimacy or investment into the large cast of Karakasa---Asa and Kame included.

Comparatively; I always felt truly, fully immersed in all the story arcs of the original Ayakashi/Mononoke. I cared about the characters, or was so invested in their sorrowful tale. But I didn't particularly feel that way about Karakasa because whatever message it was trying to convey kind of got lost in-between all the court drama...which, I'm not sure some viewers may even understand or empathize with unless they already have some knowledge of what women in the imperial harem go through or how it functions. (Speaking of which, Asa practically speed ran the exposition towards the end regarding Kitagawa and her own motives.) Just to name a few: there's the rank struggles of Asa and Kame versus the leaders of the Ooku; the political positions of Fuki, Botan and the other consorts, the political household ties of Saburomaru, the grip of Mizoragi's strange cult, and the (lack of) political power that Tenshi (the emperor) holds versus the Shogunate in the Capital (---I'm not entirely sure what timeline we're in right now, but the fact that there IS a Shogunate implies a lot.)

...Anyway, you can see why there are too many distractions in this movie for me to fully feel immersed in whatever it's trying to tell. It's supposed to be a movie of women's suffering (under the weight of men and the social sphere I suppose), but most of the time it felt more like I was just simply suffering watching women cat fight each other until they quickly got picked off by the Karakasa mononoke.

Speaking of the titular "Karakasa", though... it certainly was an interesting choice of youkai. I wonder if it was because traditionally, karakasa aren't violent youkai, they're merely scary tricksters; and it wasn't as if Kitagawa was really out for revenge (though she did pick off a few people).....actually, now that I've written it out that way, Kitagawa's motives are a little unclear. Or maybe it didn't matter anymore as karakasa grew to the point it became uncontrollable. Either way, I think if they had refocused the movie on Kitagawa and actually visually show the parallels between her, her "friend" and Asa/Kame...instead of giving us a verbal speedrun exposition dump towards the end...I might have felt a little more sympathy (...or just simply anything worth feeling towards the story). But alas.

It certainly didn't help that I was a little unsatisfied with some of the voice cast. For the most part, I was okay with the side cast (particularly the males, since the females hardly had lines); but felt it was a waste that Tsuda Kenjiro (Mizoragi) also hardly had any lines (...though I have a feeling he'll play a bigger role in the next movie). He was actually even one of my 3 ideal choices for Kusuriuri's recast (next to Ishida Akira and Toriumi Kousuke). I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love Kamiya Hiroshi, he is one of my favourites...but I think his role as Kusuriuri was a bit lackluster since his vocal range is medium-high and therefore does not go deep or husky enough to carry the same spook factor that Sakurai Takahiro's voice has. Karakasa also lacks the unique staccato often used in the original Mononoke which gave it an overall interesting sound and pace. I loved the odd vocal nuances and pauses in the previous work and was very sad that it's more or less nonexistent in Karakasa.

My second complaint would be with Asa and Kame's cast, which I felt might've benefited more from actresses with more interesting inflections. Kurosawa Tomoyo is an okay actress. She gets the job done but generally does better on long-running series since she takes a long time to fully have a grip on her role. Honestly, she was on auto-pilot and was quite boring throughout Karakasa. Aoi Yuuki on the other hand has a lot of vocal range, but generally suffers from inconsistency and just sounding like nails on a chalkboard. (I won't even mince it; my housemate walked in on me watching Karakasa on the telly and literally flinched at her voice because it severely hurt her eardrums---my condolences).

Generally speaking, I do prefer older seiyuus, they just have qualities I enjoy more, but I do also think the movie would've benefitted more from either a liveaction casting or a Showa casting. Most of the characters (in both Mononoke and Karakasa) kind of...oddly use modern speech instead of feudal Japanese (minus Utayama), and given that the Ooku IS a court drama, doesn't use court language or any regional dialects whatsoever (granted I'm not even sure if this is Kyoto, Edo, or wherever). Awashima and Mugitani do use formal language, but only Utayama uses slightly older diction. With the exception of a few notable names, most of the cast for Karakasa are from a generation of newer/younger voice actors, whereas Mononoke consists of an older one. You probably won't care unless you're a seiyuu buff, but there is actually a clear vocal distinction between those of different acting generations. For example: Sakurai, Kamiya, Ishida, Tsuda, Ogata, Hayashibara, etc...all have particular qualities to their voice that give it a layer of interest (ie. whispiness, huskiness, nasalness, etc). I don't know if it's caused by the difference in learned language or some other factor, but newer generations of voice actors tend to have more clear-toned voices with more modern inflections. Kurosawa and Aoi both have notably modern inflections when they act. You could say it's a battle of old versus new if we're going by story theme...but in which case, the rest of the cast could've been of an older generation to portray that. (But well, I'm glad they chose an older actress for Utayama, at least). The few exceptions to this are a small handful of modern actresses that are so astoundingly skilled they break that barrier. I kind of wished they had casted Hanazawa for Kame instead but she's already Kitagawa...but in which case, toss Sawashiro Miyuki in that role, I think she would've been a bit spookier. Hanazawa as Kame might've made her more endearing to me, but maybe they were going for the double-double: irritable voice and character combo, since Kame wasn't particularly written to be likeable. --- Kame does somewhat feel like a second generation Kayo (MAO), but I think MAO was still more serviceable to my ears. Anyway. I don't think I should hold up this review post any longer with my derailed rant on voice acting. It is what it is, and at the very least: we found out some lore bombshell that there are possibly at most 64 medicine sellers, and that Sakurai (Ri) Kusuriuri and Kamiya (Kon) Kusuriuri are different characters altogether (---a lot of fans rejoiced about that), making the possibility of two or more existing at one time. Wouldn't that be exciting to see?

Moving on to the music. In contrast to the trailers, the soundtrack in the movie sometimes feel like background white noise. It almost seems like a trend with newer anime, but nowadays, I hardly hear the tracks compared to older shows. Well, in Karakasa in particular, the movie is moving at such a jilted pace: most of the sounds you will hear is either dialogue or the occasional clinks and clangs. They don't really blast OSTs like they used to (...unlike Hollywood movies where I hear too much BGM). --- But following the odd quirks of Ayakashi: some of the vocal themes for Karakasa still are that weird mash of modern and traditional sounds with the occasional rapping. Particularly during the fight scene, there were some hardcore bass rap on cue. I'm not sure if I like or dislike it, but it is different. My favourite track is the Okami-esque flute theme used during the Birth Celebration Ceremony towards the end. But whether it's Mononoke or Karakasa, what stands out in both is not the score, but the sound effects which have always been the distinctive noise of the series.

The teased title for the next installment is "Ashes of Rage". I wonder what that could mean? We're left on a bunch of cliffhangers, such as why did Kusuriuri smile while looking at the clouds, what's the deal with the seal in the well, and what was Mizoragi doing in the cellar pouring water over what looked like an enclosed basin? Moreover, why on earth did they lore drop so much on the background of the medicine sellers...not in the movie but during the side interviews! The fact that they have a home base, or that the Shingi (alters) are different people... So do you mean to tell me, I still can dream of an Ishida Akira Kusuriuri!? There are at most 8 trigram Taima swords, and 2 of which are Sakurai and Kamiya's. Does that mean there's still room for another 6 Kusuriuris? That's so fruity!

If you made it this far, thank you for reading. I also I hope you watched the movie before perusing this given that it's so spoiler heavy. While it does seem like I had a lot of complaints, make no mistake: the movie was gorgeous. It was made with painstaking visual efforts and intricate architecture. Every stroke and splash is a work of art, making it one of the most visually interesting movie in a long time.

While it doesn't replace the old Mononoke in my heart, the Karakasa trilogy is a nice addition; something different and its own thing. A lot more action and a lot more abstract if you dig that sort of presentation.

Given that the trilogy isn't over, I have no doubt the rest of it will continue on with Kamiya's (Kon) Kusuriuri...but I do hope the series continues to keep receiving love so I can eventually have a whole Sentai Kamen rider group of Kusuriuris.

Until next time...~!

[waywardxwords]

I've Got You

Summary: After a year of being in Purgatory, Dean has returned and is trying to make sense of what happened while he was away.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (more of a friendship; they deeply care about each other but nothing wildly romantic happens in this story)

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Light cursing, angst, Dean/Sam contention (this takes place after Dean gets back from Purgatory and Sam is on/off with Amelia), light fluff, light blood/silver testing (non-descriptive)

A/N: Happy October, friends! This is my first entry for the #flufftober2023 @flufftober prompt challenge. The prompt is: "I've got you." I hope you enjoy!

“Dean,” you breathed as you walked through the door of the cabin. Even after you heard his voice on the phone, you couldn’t be sure it was really him–not until you saw him. 

“Test me,” his words were firm and clear–much firmer than you remembered. You processed that the man had been in Purgatory for the last year, and his experience had most likely hardened his already tough demeanor. 

“Dean, I–” you tried to stop him.

“Test me, dammit,” he grumbled as he grabbed what looked like a jug of holy water and took a swig of it. Next was the silver; he didn’t hesitate to run it along his forearm before he wrapped the cut it left behind with a bandana. He wiped the blade on his denim jeans. 

“Dean,” you said, for the third time now. Your eyes burned with tears. You knew it was him from the get go, but now it was confirmed. He handed you the holy water and the blade. You moved slower than he did, but you took a sip of the water and winced at the bitterness; it was laced with salt. Then, you took the blade and matched his movements with a small slice on the underside of your forearm. 

Without allowing another moment to pass, he pulled you in tightly to his chest for a hug–so tight, you thought you might not be able to breathe as your body was crushed against his. 

“God, it’s good to see you,” he breathed in your hair before he finally released you. “Where’s Sammy?” His eyes moved over your face inquisitively.

“I, uh, I don’t know, Dean,” you were careful with your words. You were a little bit angry with Sam, but you didn’t want to have to explain why to Dean.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” The sharpness made you blink, but you knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you with his tone. The man had been in Purgatory for a year, for Christ’s sake. 

There was no way around it, though. You were going to have to try to explain and hope he could understand.

“I’ve gotta get out of here,” Sam mumbled. It had been three days since you all had killed the Leviathans, but somehow Dean and Castiel had been killed in the process. You had spent three days researching and looking for how to find them, but you had come up empty. Sam had tossed around the idea of Purgatory , for Cas, at least, because he was an angel; but neither of you knew how that worked–the death of an angel? Where would they go? Could an angel go to Hell? 

“Sam, we’re going to find them,” your eyes were heavy, you hadn’t slept. The pain of running in circles reading and re-reading and searching was making you feel crazy.

“Are we? Even if we do find them, how are we going to get them out?” Sam was angry, and you understood that. But anger wasn’t helping the situation, and you wished he could realize that.

“I don’t know yet,” you sighed as you placed your elbows on the wooden table in front of you and dropped your head into your hands. “We will find a way. We always do.”

“I have no one now. My family is dead, I just…I gotta get out of here,” he repeated. His words stung, but you knew you weren’t family. You weren’t even a hunter, initially. You had stumbled into this world when the Winchesters had saved you on a hunt a while back. Now that you knew what went bump in the night, there was no turning back. “I’m sorry, but I have to go…” Sam seemed reckless, but you also knew that you couldn’t stop him. Not really, anyway.

You stayed silent, but as the door closed behind him, tears pooled in your tired eyes.

After you had explained carefully what had transpired, you tried to ease the blow. “You always wanted Sam to get out of the hunting life, Dean.” Your words were soft.

Dean sat on the sofa leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs as he stared at the wall opposite him. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word.

“I gotta get some air,” he cleared his throat and stood quickly. He reached for his jacket. “I’ll be back later.” Before you could say a word, he was already out the door and pulling it behind him with a slam. You couldn’t help but feel defeated, yet again.

This was the third dive bar you had checked in an hour. You had lost hope and wondered if you really knew the oldest Winchester at all as you looked for him. But there he sat on a barstool at the end of the dimly lit bar. 

You heaved a sigh before you walked towards him. “I’m gettin’ real tired of looking for your ass,” you grumbled playfully as you carefully moved onto the stool next to him. 

His eyes didn’t move from the back of the bar as he took a pull from his beer. 

“Yeah, well, at least somebody’s lookin’,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear.

You weren’t sure what to say to that immediately, so instead you leaned against the bar and flagged down the bartender. “Could I get a Stella, please?” The bartender nodded and went to retrieve your bottled beer.

A few moments of silence passed. “I just thought he’d look for me,” Dean's voice cut through the quiet noise in the bar as he stared at the label on his bottle. His fingernails picked at the edges in a way to distract himself. 

“I know,” you tried to form the words in your head before they tumbled out of your mouth incorrectly. “Sam loves you, Dean. He’s just…he’s tired. Does that make it right? Not necessarily. You’re his brother, but this life…it’s not the life he wanted.”

“And you think I wanted it?!” His voice raised as he looked at you incredulously. 

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you and Sam are different people,” you tried to explain carefully, reminding yourself again that it’s not you, it’s Purgatory. 

He seemed to relax as he remembered this was you that he was talking to. “I’m sorry,” he groaned inwardly as he turned back in his stool to face the bar. “I would do absolutely anything for Sammy. I was lost when he was gone. I just thought he might do the same.” After a quick pull from his beer, he changed the subject. “So, what’d you do this past year?” Dean asked acrimoniously, as he glanced at you briefly and toyed with the paper label on his beer bottle.

You waited for a moment, just as the bartender placed your own beer in front of you. You moved it around in your hands for a few seconds. Like Dean, your fingers found the sticker on the bottle and began to pick at it so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “I looked for you,” you answered slowly before you pulled the beer to your mouth and took a sip. You felt his gaze now, his head turned to watch you as if he was surprised to hear what you said. “I hunted a little, here and there. Mostly just when I stumbled upon a job, though.”

“...you looked for me?”

You were surprised that he was surprised. It was your turn to turn your head back to him to meet his gaze. “Of course I did,” you said hesitantly. “I tried everything, Dean. I interrogated demons, I tried to make a deal, I tried to summon Crowley–”

He cut you off very quickly. “Woah, woah, woah,” his eyes were narrowed in on you now and you watched his entire body tense. “You tried to make a deal? And summoning Crowley?” He was pissed. You didn’t care.

“None of it worked, Dean. The crossroad demons said they didn’t know where you were, but I didn’t believe them…though I’m wondering if they really didn’t, since you were in Purgatory,” you were mostly just reading your own internal dialogue at this point. “I’m not sure how that works, exactly.” You nibbled gently on your bottom lip as you processed your thoughts.

“Are you insane?” He was still pissed. His voice rose a bit in volume and you glanced around to see the handful of other bar patrons glance in your direction. 

“Oh, calm down,” you said in a hushed tone while you rolled your eyes. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing.” Dean knew it was true, but he still wasn’t happy. “Again, none of it worked anyway.”

“You know better than that,” he shook his head, the disappointment bled through his words. But somewhere mixed in with the frustration, you heard gratitude.

“And you know better, too. I wasn’t just going to sit on my ass or ride off into the sunset like everything was fine,” you still couldn’t find his gaze. It was easier to stare at the glass bottle between your hands.

He didn’t respond right away. The sound of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” was playing on the jukebox now, and it was the only noise you could hear just over the chatter of the other people in the bar. “Thanks,” you weren’t sure you heard him right away, but you felt his fingers graze the top of one of your hands that was clasped around the bottle. “I’m really glad I’ve got you. So if some shit ever goes down again, no goin' off and making deals to save me. If I came back and somethin' had happened to you..." his voice trailed off. You would spend a lot of time wondering what he had wanted to say, but chose not to. Instead, you moved your head to look straight into those green eyes, and that’s when you noticed it. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and while his eyes were still sad, you saw a glimmer of hope.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As always, I am always open to any feedback you may have :)

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24

[yourstingrey]

“What are you wearing…?”

Description: you forget about laundry day and are forced with the tough decision of going out in your most embarrassing pajamas set in front of a certain Hermes camp counselor

A/N: I haven't written a fic since uh 2019…? So my writing is a bit rusty but I wanted to try to get back into it so hopefully you all don't think this is too bad😭😭😭 The pajamas are inspired from this OW2 character's outfit but obvi changed for the fic! Anywho if you do like this hopefully it'll inspire me to write even more little fics but thank you for reading if you choose to do so and I hope you're having a wonderful day/evening/night!!

wc:1009

Pairings: Athena!reader x Luke Castellan

Warnings!: fluff pretty much and the reader getting teased

You don't even know how you could have forgotten it was an honest mistake anyone could make but certainly not as embarrassing for everyone else. You had woken up just like any other day yawning not truly ready to get up for the day but at camp half blood unless you're a child of Hypnos sleeping in isn't the smartest.

As you stretch out and then slip your feet into your slippers you finally make that last stumble out of bed. Walking up to my dresser and open up the drawer noticing how barren it is so much so a cartoon mouth might as well fly out. I turned around to march up to my laundry hamper, deciding it better to re-wear something this once than to simply have nothing else until I noticed it was missing from its key spot. 

I looked up to see if any of my siblings were in the room and saw my sister, Bea “Hey uh Bea have you seen my laundry hamper? I can't remember where I put it…” I say to her with sleepy confusion laced into my voice “Oh yeah well it's laundry day and you were sleeping for a while so Annabeth decided to take yours and do it for you!” Bea explained, “So all my clothes are in the wash.” “Oh yeah sorry is that a bad thing I mean I can't say I won't judge you if you wanna be those people who don't bathe or anything..” Bea says with an astute tone to her voice and a clear grimace on her face “Um no no it's fine…” I replied under my breath.

I walked back to my drawer deliberating between just going out in my PJs or trying to squeeze into some old t-shirt from my first years at camp. I think we all know what I picked but I did decide if I'm going to wear my PJs out I can still wear my normal shoes, lacing up my sneakers I head out marching my way to the mess hall. 

I walk quietly the cold crisp camp air biting at my cheeks while I notice the cold I fail to notice the sound of a certain Hermes boy sneaking up on me before he lightly tugged on one of my braids “Woah woah where are you going girl” Luke said as he stepped in front of me.

 “Luke! I hate when you do that my hair takes a while y'know.” Luke irked me to no end yet I couldn't help but enjoy all our tiny arguments. “Hold on. What are you wearing…?”

 I look down at my outfit: a basic white sleep tank but then lavender pajama pants with owls and moons scattered about with a matching cardigan on top. “What are you jealous, Castellan?” “Very you think we can get matching sets, hm?” Luke replied with a smirk evident on his face.

“ Ugh Why have you come to pester me Luke” I huff out at him as I shift under his gaze “Just wanted to know if you’re still gonna come to training later” I almost freeze up a little as though it might be small Luke has usually never asked to see if I'm coming or not it's not like its hard for him to get another sparring partner. 

“Hmm I don't know.. These are my best fighting clothes. I think they actually might let me beat you this time butttt I already promised Annabeth to sneak out into the strawberry fields with her later..” As I say this I start to continue my walk to the mess hall not letting Luke interrupt my stride.

“Hey wait wait tell her you’ll go on a different day!” Luke jogs back over and starts walking with me “I don't know why you’re being so persistent this time you’ve never acted like this before!” I sass back to him “Oh what I just want to spare with my favorite Athena girl” “Well it's not gonna happen you can spare with me tomorrow okay” my voice holding a teasing tone.

I look at him and scrunch my nose at him as if he were the foul smell you would get if you ventured to the stables. But with that pause in my step, Luke took it to his advantage quickly snagging the owl sleeping mask off of my head and holding it up.

“Well, you'll just have to come by if you want this back then hmm little owl.” With him snatching my eye mask and this newly formed nickname my face glowed a light pink you would think I was a daughter of Aphrodite for a second “Wait what-” Luke already cut me off with a quick peck to my cheek stunning me again and starts to strut off before calling over his shoulder “Okay see you later then my little owl!”

I turn to watch him walk for a mere second before knocking some sense into myself and continuing my walk. I know I shouldn't go. I'm a daughter of Athena, I should be smarter than this but maybe Annabeth could wait a day. It's just fruit…  I think I just really need “my sleeping mask” back…

[wistfulrat]

・❥・lesbian wangxian reccs ・❥・

ao3topships poll gate made me realize there are hundreds nay thousands of u who dont know abt lesbian wangxian ?? that’s so sad can i proselytize u real quick

mimilamp cinematic universe (the ppl’s mcu) sorry for starting this list with a whole author catalog. as if it's my fault!! these gave me covid. no listen mimilamp fics have feverish lesbian angst levels of hot horny despair that could paralyze a large forest animal. and on a sentence level it's just stunning. messy dykes fumbling toward love confessions while making emotionally insane choices and the sex scenes fuckn bang ??? god is real

good, good - 13.5k E Wei Ying has two broken wrists and now she needs Lan Zhan to help her do stuff (jerk off)

here’s a story - 46k E Wei Ying reluctantly joins her recently-dumped best friend, Lan Zhan, on a couples' holiday retreat. Snow! Drinks! Truth or dare! There's a s-s-s-single bed! You'll never guess what happens next.

out of your system - 20k E “Maybe you should get me out of your system,” Wei Ying blurts. “Maybe that’ll help.” // Wei Ying finds out her best friend Lan Zhan is in love with her and offers a really super solution.

exposure therapy - 14k E Wei Ying clambered up from the floor, put the joint on the corner of the night stand, announced, “Exposure therapy,” and got into Lan Zhan’s bed. // Lan Zhan doesn't like to be touched, Wei Ying likes to touch.

know no one else - 20k E Lan Zhan moves out, Wei Ying's boyfriend moves in. Six months later, Lan Zhan visits, they go to a party, and Wei Ying has something to tell her.

74243 this author should be studied in a lab bc these 2 fics ruined my life. a pulitzer prize short fic with immaculate tone followed by the fuck nastiest shit you will ever read. "wei ying swipes right" still a top 3 bar of all time re: fic summaries. like people died.

chef’s kiss - 6.5k E Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.” “There are bigger ones available,” Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.” // (Lan Zhan works the late shift.)

pull out game weak - 22.7k E Wei Ying swipes right.

plonk this is the only fic in many ways. dyke nmj's mustache academy award winning breakout role. possessive hot dyke lwj. the sentence "don't knot her you freak." have u ever seen a group chat get rabies in real time. the slut rot breached containment. it was a public health crisis. it brought back horny cinema. cultural reset.

good friends - 11.5k E “I could invite her over for when the game’s done,” Nie Mingjue offers. Lan Zhan hums, considering it. They do that sometimes. Take omegas down together.

occultings will i ever get tired of -wwx thinks she's straight and wants to practice being gay with sadsack lwj who is like sure im in love with u and this will cause me psychic damage but mayhaps that's the cost of being homiesexual--? no i dont get tired of the classics it's called taste

give me one good honest kiss - 25k E The text keeps flashing over and over in Lan Zhan's head like the bulb lights on a marquee. They’d been talking about homework directly before that, swapping notes on music theory in the baroque period. Then, like a fork of lightning out of a clear blue sky: wanna practice kissing? 😚 // Wei Ying suggests an arrangement. Lan Zhan, in love, deals.

saltyfeathers ok so like sure it's ill advised to get your cartilage pierced at claire's but if you wanted the experience of participating in deranged hysteric behavior that kinda bangs in a badgood way? well then.

the mall that has it all - 8k E She introduced herself in the food court, breathless after sprinting across it in Lan Zhan’s direction and vaulting over a table only to crash into the seat across from her, ask, “Can I have a sip?”, spring forward with both elbows on the table to wrap her burgundy lips around Lan Zhan’s smoothie straw, wrinkle her nose, and say, “What is that, kale? Not really my thing, as like, a mall goth. Oh!” A pleased, chaotic exhale. “My name’s Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan said, after taking a moment to fully process the last forty-five seconds, “What?” or; mall goth au

[eveandtheturtles]

Dating Advice

Ship: Leo X Reader

A/N: Leo can't catch a break it seems lol I am going to continue bully him for a lil bit more. With the help of his fam ;)

Tagging: @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch

Anyone else want in let me know!

Recently Leo has been a bit antsy. A bit more... jumpy? But only in the presence of one person.

April noted his behaviour as you left the lair and immediately pulled him aside.

"Okay, spill." She sat him down in the kitchen and gave him her best 'big sis time' look.

"I- don't know what you mean," he said slowly, clearing his throat and looking away. "Now if you excuse me-" he started getting up.

"Sit," she ordered and he sat back down. "Come on Leo," she softened her tone. "I want to help."

He sighed heavily and tapped his finger over the table. "Fine," he sighed, finally giving in. "It's- well,... How do you ask somebody out? Asking for a friend."

April smiled and was about to answer when as if summoned Mikey popped up behind them.

"Who is asking who out?" He asked.

"No one!" Leo tried to stop the train from crashing but too late.

"I think Leo likes your new friend a little more than 'just friends'," April informed him.

"That's nothing new." Suddenly Donnie spoke up from the coffee spot. He had crawled out of his science cave to inject more caffeine in his blood stream. "You aren't that hard to read Leo," he added seeing the shocked face of his brother.

"Can we stop with the bullying?" The blue masked turtled sighed.

"Who are we bullying?" Raph asked as he emerged freshly post work out with a towel around his neck.

"Leo." All three replied.

The terrapin in question sighed again leaning his head down and rubbing a spot on his forehead. He could feel the headache coming.

"Oh, really?" Raph grinned. "What about?"

"He wants to ask Sweetness out," Mikey informed him.

"I never said I want to! It's for a friend!" Leo protested.

"Really? What is his name?" April asked with a wide grin.

Leo opened and closed his mouth. He then made an undignified noise and slid lower in his chair.

"That's what I thought," she said smugly.

"Bro, you could like make a song for her, chicks are into this kinda thing, right?" Mikey looked at April.

She made an 'eh' face. "Depends."

"Or a poem." Raph placed one hand on Leo's shoulder. "I got one for you bro."

"Don't." Leo glared at him.

"Roses are read, violets are blue." Raph ignored him and continued. "Guess what, my bed has place for two."

"Good one!" Mikey snickered. "How about - twinkle, twinkle little star, we can do it in the car."

The two hollered with laughter, even April had to bite her lips not to join them. Leo was suffering.

"Mikey, if you get anywhere near the turtle tank with that intent I will cut you off the WiFi for life and set your hover board on fire," Donnie spoke up.

"Yes, sir!" Mikey immediately sobered up. Donnie threats were no laughing matter.

"Thank you!" Leo called out, hoping the torment was over. He was wrong.

"That being said -," Donnie took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat.

"Oh, no." Leo sunk further down.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream," purple terrapin sang. "Merrily, merrily, I can make you scream."

"Oh, my god," Leo groaned. "You are my family, but you are all terrible, you dicks."

"Eh, you love us," April patted his hand.

"Hey guys," you re-entered the lair. "I forgot my bag." You took the scene in and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Suddenly all the eyes were on Leo and he just wanted to disappear.

"Nope," he jumped out of the chair. "Everything is peachy! Let me walk you home." He rushed to your side and threw a death glare at his snickering family.

You were very confused as Leo escorted you out.

"What was that all about?" You asked. "It looked like you guys were having an intervention," you joked.

"It was nothing, they just thought they were being funny," he huffed.

"Were they giving you shit because you haven't asked me out yet?" You smirked, giving him a side eye.

Leo felt like a scratch record. "What?" He blinked at you, stopping abruptly.

"You aren't that hard to read Leo." You took his hand. "Also I was listening to the whole thing for quite a while. The sewers do carry sounds well."

His heart was about to jump out of his chest. "And um, do you, would you mind if I did?"

"Nope, so come on, shoot your shot." You nudged him gently.

"Alright," he took a deep breath in. Here it goes. He will not mess it up. "Do you take out game?"

Fuck.

"I mean - Will you check me out? No!" He pinched the bridge oh his snout.

You tried so hard not to laugh.

"I can do this," he said probably more to himself than you. "Will you. Go with me. To the Knicks game this Saturday?"

You giggled and stood up on your tip toes giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, with pleasure."

"Great!!" He smiled brightly. "I can pick you up at 6?"

"Sounds perfect. See you then." You gave his hand a squeeze and exited the sewers. A smile never leaving your face.

Once you were gone he fist pumped, excited. You said yes! That was such a relief! He felt so good he was going to clean the dojo!

Figuring out how to prevent his brothers from going to the game was future Leo problem.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

“And the relative simplicity of her music works with people who just want something mindlessly play in the background. It's also really easy for average people- who have no musical background- to sing along with. The lines are simple rhymes, and she never really uses any specialized vocal techniques like Vibrato. Basically, it's music for bland people who think salt is a spice.”

Some of your takes are valid and it’s healthy to critique anything that amasses such a large following in pop culture. However I would argue there is a way to do this without coming across as a pretentious undergraduate who read a few required and recommended readings from the syllabus and now sips their tea with a pinkie protruding. Let’s remember that tumblr is not inherently full of academics and defining anyone who hasn’t got a certain level of education as average or bland is such an Americanised, my way or the highway way of thinking.

It is possible to have differing opinions to others without insulting their intelligence or falsely presenting them in a certain way. Average people as a term in general, is quite elitist and classist. For example, I have a PHD in literature and am a classical musician. I work in publishing and academia.

That said, I still enjoy pop music, sometimes something can just be enjoyable and it’s not that deep.

Criticising Taylor Swift is low hanging fruit for a lit major who claims to be allied with as many causes as yourself. Or, if you do decide to continue with it, I hope you do it in a more articulated manner that focuses more on the quality of your arguments, and not just an assumption that those who oppose you are stupid or “bland” when I suspect the truth is much more complex than that, as it always is.

Best of luck with further studies. I hope to see more diverse content from you in the future, maybe some literary analysis of contemporary texts, or other artists who you deem intellectual enough to enjoy, or some recommendations.

Honestly- I do not know with which tone I should address this anon. I cannot tell if you are being hostile- but I certainly feel that you are being condescending.  

Thanks for at least direct quoting my words with which you draw issue. I appreciate it- some people send me critiques but fail to outline which of my posts is the problem.  

I can capitulate to exactly one of your points- and admit it is a good point- that I am overly sassy on occasion. The post you are angry about is just me chitchatting with someone about Swift’s live shows- it wasn’t a literary analysis. I cannot do an academic analysis of her live shows- but that does not mean I don’t have an opinion of them.  

Again- it was opinion not argument or analysis. Not a serious post. This is not a blog where I am going to speak like an academic all of the time. I’m here to have a little fun- and try to remind myself why I actually do love what I do for a living.

Generally speaking- I will try to make a more obvious, clear difference between what is just an opinion and what is a researched, literary argument on Taylor Swift in my future posting. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.  

There are some other things about your ask that I want to address, because it struck me as a bit unnecessary.  

You say that I’m “coming across as a pretentious undergraduate who read a few required and recommended readings from the syllabus and now sips their tea with a pinkie protruding” (para. 1). This is condescending. No, I did not simply “read a few required and recommended readings” to complete my education. You say you’ve got a PHd in the same discipline- and yet you want to tell me all I did for my degree was read a couple of books? You should know the kind of intellectual work that goes into real literary study. I am trying to show people with this blog, at least in some small way, that while literary study is not so straightforwardly quantifiably valuable like, for instance, physics- it is still a real discipline. With real requirements on argumentation and logic. It takes intellectual skill to wrestle with concepts in literary theory – but more so to apply them in synthesis and interpretation of textual evidence.   

SO, why are you essentially patting my head and saying “aw-cute she read some books and now thinks she’s smart?”   

To be clear- I am not in undergrad. I have finished two different degrees and am currently working on my third.

Why would you accuse me of classism and elitism predicated solely on a bad joke in a post wherein I am not even doing any real literary analysis? What prompted that? I made no effort to even pretend the post in question was little more than opinion- my real posts however, about literary analysis, I take great pains to research and edit those together with care.  

Also, “Americanized” what? Are you American? Because people ‘round here don’t care about what level of education you’ve got? The access to education varies remarkably state to state- and down into Latin American too- and we all know it. So, there is very much a culture of “help each other out when struggling” and not a culture of thinking that everyone of Earth needs to go through American University in order to matter. What are you talking about? Do you think American’s hold the monopoly on having Dogmatic views or “my way or the highway” thinking? That’s obviously not true- so what are you trying to say here?  

Did you miss the part of my Bio where I talk about being a teacher? I am a teacher in one of the poorest- most unfunded places in the country. My friend- I am repulsed by the idea of classism- I take my position in my community very seriously. Knowledge is not a stick with which I attempt to beat others down- Please understand that.  

Next, you say it is possible to critique without insulting people’s intelligence (para. 2). um, I did not insult anyone’s intelligence? I said their taste in music was bland, which does not correlate to an assumption on their intelligence. Um- I have also said many times that I like simple pop- music. Am I calling myself stupid because I’ve been listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter on repeat? NOpe. It’s just a silly little song- and dancing to it makes me feel cute, young and free- but it’s still a bland song with no literary or moral value. What exactly is the problem here?  

Okay, within this same point you draw issue with my use of the word average, saying that “average people, as a term...is quite elitist and classist” (para.3). Okay, you misinterpreted my use of the word “average” here- as I was not referring to people as “average” because they have no education, or a different education compared to my own. I was only using the term in the most colloquial sense- meaning “in general” or “on average” as in the median percentage of people have no musical background- therefore they find simplistic pop music the easiest to digest and the simplest thing to play in the background or sing to on car trips. It’s pleasing to the ear because we don’t have too much “work” into understanding it- that's what I mean when I say it’s bland. 

If oatmeal was a type of music- it would be pop music. bland filler- but you know it can still be good.   

Okay, let’s talk about your final point “Taylor Swift is Low Hanging Fruit” (para. Whatever I can’t be bothered to count). Ummm? A billionaire musician who has massive worldwide acclaim and social impact is “low-hanging” to you? I mean yeah- she's clearly not worth study through the lens of poetical semiotics, or God forbid- Linguistic Morphology; however, there are several different ways a good analysis of her work could function- through feminist, Marxists, Post-colonialist, or anything under the umbrella of cultural studies. I also intend to do a rhetorical analysis on her use of “lower class” aesthetics and how that attracts the audience she wants. And, I’ve done a couple of syntactical analyses. However, I had to prop those up with a dichotomization of her work to someone with more impressive literary value, like Kendrick Lamar, because her work alone is not strong enough for that type of analysis.  

Apologies if I have written a return, you did not expect or want- perhaps, I should be less sensitive on the internet. I do often brush off people's condescension, especially when I notice that they are extremely young or just do not know anything at all about my field of study. Because why worry about uninformed opinions? I wanted to speak with you, however, because you do care. It is obvious, and I am glad that people do care. I admire you for caring about the integrity of the discipline- but I really wasn’t doing what you thought I was doing.  

 I admire anyone who also studies Literature, and you say you’re a classical musician, I think that’s so impressive! I love classical music! Rachmaninoff makes me feel insane! I love it! You know that one O’Hara poem? The one that is an ode to Rachmaninoff’s birthday that ends “you’ll never be mentally sober” because I feel that line in my bones. And don’t even get me started on Tchaikovsky- Truly, you might never hear the end of it. (CAnnoNS!!!!??? what a guy)

 I just wanted to clear up anything that you found offensive- but I also defended myself because you do know what I’m talking about when it comes to literary study- and so the conversation took priority over the other meaningless “hate” messages I get. And- boy howdy- I've been getting hate messages pretty much daily. 

Promise to no longer be condescending to me and I think we ought to be friends and not fight- let me start- what did you concentrate on for your PHd? 

 I, myself, focus on post-colonialism, feminist theory, and post-modernist thought in American Literature. I work mainly within US Multi-ethnic literature, though, outside of school, I have an intense fascination with medieval or ancient Literature- primarily, these days, classical Sanskrit poetry. Last year it was an obsession with old Norse literature- lol I like to switch things up. Have you ever read the Heliand? It’s about Viking Jesus- so cool and written in old Saxon! But, anyway, I think the unique prosody of Sanskrit is so neat-o. My other obsession is this one old french poem called "le roman de silence" what a crazy little gender-bending 13th century thing that is (haha). And this doesn't even get into my philosophical preoccupations- though I believe I will discuss those on my blog, too, at some point.

Anyway- perhaps I will talk about my more niche interests on this blog- all good things in time. I have no interest in solely focusing on Taylor Swift forever- but I do want to finish saying all the things I’ve been holding back for years. I think it’s important- because Swift holds such a massive influence over people. It’s healthy, as you said, to critique people like that.  

Okay- Sorry I talked soo long. Peace Out :)

[eliyips]

HOW DO YOU MAKE X SO FRIENDSHAPED?!

But also genuinely curious about the design translation from the actual skins to your interpretations due to the small but mighty details added in

Infodump as hard as you want!

If i ever pass up an opportunity to talk about my X design, it will be because I am either dead, or dying!!! neither are true at time of posting, so here you go! I will be going over my ENTIRE design process for Xisuma, starting with my initial design:

My initial design for Xisuma wasn't anything special, in my opinion. Most of what I included was directly ripped from the classic Doomslayer. Though, the face scars were inherited from fanon, of course. :) The changes that I did make were in service of having things make more sense for Xisuma. Namely, the belt buckle, and the fabric covering the arms...

The belt buckle is simple - bullets didn't really make sense as a design motif, all considered - but the fabric is more complicated. I have a couple different ideas about why Xisuma wears the suit, but I haven't settled one way or the other on some of the specifics, so forgive me if I'm a bit vague. Ultimately, It is just my impression that X is not comfortable having his body visible more than it needs to be, whether that be for health-related reasons or for personal/emotional reasons. I don't intend to ever draw Xisuma with his helmet off, because of that. To me, it feels like a violation of boundaries. To be perfectly clear though, that's just for me - more power to other artists who draw him without the helmet/armor! :)

By the time I was full-on fixated on Xisuma, I realized I was unsatisfied with this first pass at his design. Mainly, in regards to the helmet. So I did more work on it!

I feel like my re-design process for the helmet is a good example of the importance of using reference. :) I did a lot of unsatisfactory sketches before pulling up pictures of real helmets, at which point I feel like I settled on something I was happy with very quickly.

Specifically, I referenced motocross helmets! My choice of reference was mostly driven by my passing interest in sports equipment design, though motocross helmets are similarly bulky and have the same distinct mouthpiece as X's helmet, so I think it was a good choice. I also feel like the pixels at the top of Xisuma's skin can be pretty easily read as the brim of a helmet, so it works out!

Other than the motocross helmet influence, I also made the choice to add tubing to the sides and back of the helmet. This rolls with my headcanons about the purpose of the helmet, connecting to air tanks on his back! I also think it helps to distinguish him from the doomslayer, in addition to the new helmet shape.

The only other changes I made were to the helmet's palette, added a few additional grey tones for contrast, and the positioning of his scars. I decided I wanted them to be a little off-center, leaning towards his left eye. I'm pretty inconsistent with how I draw the scars though, lol, so it changed again by the next time I drew him.

At this point my design is mostly settled for him, and I don't expect it to change very significantly any time soon. I don't have much else to say about it, but I listed the other iterative changes I made to the design above! I figure I will continue making small tweaks to his design every time I draw him :)

That said... I have yet to answer your initial question! So I will answer it now:

"HOW DO YOU MAKE X SO FRIENDSHAPED?!"

My answer is that it's (almost) all in the eyes!!! I have already talked pretty extensively about Xisuma's eyes. So I won't dwell for too long! In short, human facial recognition is very closely tied to the eyes. The ability to see the eyes of a character clearly affords you a lot of flexibility when it comes to making a design seem approachable, or "friend-shaped." I painted over a screenshot of doomguy to illustrate my point!

My drawings tend towards being a little cutesy, of course, so that helps :) but you can see that the bright, saturated color, big distinct eyes, and less harsh expression all contribute to making him seem like he is less of a threat, despite this literally just being the doomslayer.

Another thing that helps is, again, related to the style I draw in. My art is very "clean" looking, not gritty. I use a lot of soft shape language and don't texture things too heavily. With Xisuma specifically, I also make no effort to make him seem intimidating. I use very neutral angles when drawing him, I don't frame him in a way that makes him seem intimidating or imposing, I don't pose him too confidently or angrily. Because he's not that kind of guy! Though it would be an interesting challenge to try and make him look as intimidating as possible :) I certainly think he could be quite scary, if he wanted to be. Just a matter of what I'm trying to convey.

... I think that's all I have to say for now! Once again, blown away by all the nice things people have to say about my Xisuma design and my art. Everyone here has been so kind and encouraging, and I really appreciate that. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to yell about Xisuma! If you have follow up questions, by all means, I am ready to answer :)

[cappulcino]

Seven Days Til Fall (Part 3)

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Read on AO3

Words: 4,438

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader

Summary: You're an angel sent on a divine mission to retrieve a powerful relic that has been stolen from Heaven. The orders are clear: gain an audience with the Devil, make deals with them if necessary, anything to return that object to the Silver City. But Hell is not quite what you expected, and neither is Lucifer.

Trigger warnings: Non-graphic allusion to rape (committed by a sinner)

The next morning, when you arrived at the centre of Hell and the giant doors of its ruler's palace opened –letting out the usual gush of blood that each day tainted your immaculate apparels and never left despite how hard you tried to miracle it away–, Mazikeen was waiting for you, body tense, hands on the hilts of her swords.

"I salute you, Mazikeen of the Lillim," you said cautiously as you approached her and the heavy sound of the doors closing behind you echoed in the hall.

She nodded out of sheer respect for etiquette and because you were an honoured guest in her sovereign's realm, but did not bother to greet you with words.

Instead, she immediately informed you, "The Morningstar is occupied with matters of the kingdom. I have been asked to keep you... entertained. And safe." Her tone was dripping with disdain, revealing her clear lack of interest in the task.

"That won't be necessary," you told her after a moment of reflexion.

"What do you mean?"

"Take me to your master, Mazikeen. Heaven's deal is with them alone, and I shall therefore spend my days with them."

By that, you really meant to let her know that you didn't trust her, nor could you even if you wanted to. Unlike Lucifer, Mazikeen was bound by no divine contract, and demons were notorious liars. She would most likely try to mislead and confuse you, and you obviously couldn't allow it.

"There is nothing for you to see at that meeting."

There. She was already trying to divert you.

"Perhaps not, but I still would like to attend. The search for the Cup can wait. Besides, it's evident neither of us has any desire to spend more time together than necessary."

"I received clear orders," she said in a clipped tone, her upper teeth showing a little and her fists clenching harder on her weapons.

"As did I, and as did the Lightbringer, in fact. So I must ask again. Take me to your ruler, and let me discuss this with them."

Mazikeen eyed you with suspicion and annoyance for a moment but eventually relented.

"Fine. If you're so eager to watch our business…" She was already heading to where the meeting was held, and you promptly followed. "But there is no guarantee you will be accepted. Do not try to say I didn't warn you."

"…and I have been told by Pharzuph that–"

The ornate doors of the council chamber creaked open as you and Mazikeen stepped inside, your presence immediately drawing the attention of everyone there. A tall, gaunt demon, Asmodeus, who had been in the middle of voicing his grievance about the recent disturbances in the Second Circle, froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening in surprise while the room fell into a sudden, oppressive silence.

Lucifer, seated at the head of the long, marble table, raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but they didn't seem entirely displeased to see you.

Still, when they turned to the she-demon at your left and spoke, their voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade.

"Explain yourself, Mazikeen."

"It is not her fault," you declared before Mazikeen could get a single word out. "I was curious to know how assemblies in Hell were conducted and asked her to take me here. After all… know your enemies, right?"

Lucifer's lips curled into a faint, amused smile while the demons exchanged hateful glares and whispers of uncertainty.

"Very well," they eventually said. "Take a seat. Observe if you wish."

You only hesitated a split second before gratefully bowing your head and stepping forward with calm resolve to take the offered seat.

"Is this reasonable, Sire? Letting the Opposition so blatantly pry and learn about what goes on here?" a demon you would later come to know as Belial asked.

"Are you questioning Our decision?" Lucifer replied with a warning edge to their tone. "We doubt anything that will be said in today's session could be of importance to Heaven. Let the curious angel indulge. Now, Asmodeus, you were saying?"

"That the, uh… The… The souls assigned to the Second Circle have been… lacking." The demon seemed unsure, constantly throwing glances in your direction.

"Yes, so have the souls in the Fifth Circle," another added.

"Ah, the ever-persistent soul-allocation debate," Lucifer sighed, looking straight at you as if letting you in on an inside joke. You pinched your lips to suppress a smirk as they answered. "Well, perhaps Desire of the Endless has been neglecting their duty. It is not Our concern."

"Is it not?"

The demon now talking didn't even have an anthropomorphic body. You had seen them somewhere… But what was their name already?

"No, Azazel." Ah, yes. Azazel. "We do not interfere with the affairs of the Endless."

Azazel's many eyes glimmered with something close to amusement. "Does this apply to the Dream Lord? I recall a rather... public exchange of challenges the last time he came to our domain. Surely, You have not forgotten?"

What was this about? You shifted in your seat, imperceptibly leaning forward, hoping to learn more.

But Lucifer's eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of annoyance passing over their features.

"We remember well, Azazel, as We remember your… compelling offer. Do you have something relevant to add, or are you merely reminiscing?"

"Only that You promised to destroy him, Your Majesty. Yet, here we are, discussing soul allocation as if nothing ever happened. Perhaps the Endless should be reminded of their place and–"

"The affairs of the Endless, as We said, are not Our concern at this time. If and when We decide to address Lord Morpheus, you will be informed. Until then, We suggest you focus on your own duties, Azazel." Lucifer turned their attention back to the rest of the Council. "Now, if there are no further diversions, shall we proceed? Belial, perhaps would you like to share your grievances?"

The demon that had expressed his reluctance to your presence earlier cleared his throat and spoke up. 

"Yes, well… It’s just that the lava flow in the Lake of Fire has been inconsistent. Some days it's more of a trickle than a proper stream from the volcanoes, and… Well, I've heard complaints."

There was a pause as all eyes turned to the Lightbringer.

Lucifer blinked.

"Is this your classified state affair no celestial being should ever hear about? What a security breach indeed." And again, they glanced at you with a mock-serious expression. "I do hope you can keep this… earth-shattering revelation to yourself."

For the second time, you had to bite the inside of your cheeks not to laugh, but you still decide to play along.

"Oh, You can trust me. We angels are very good at keeping secrets."

Lucifer flashed you the briefest of smiles, and the meeting resumed. The topics ranged from the management of the Damned to disputes between powerful demons, to the distribution of resources in different regions of Hell. And no matter how important or trivial the matter was, Lucifer always listened and provided a balanced solution to everything, showing a surprising level of patience.

This meeting felt so different from those you had to attend to in the Silver City and, at first, you couldn't exactly tell why. You, too, sometimes had to be present at assemblies where your peers complained about clogged Holy Water sources and what needed improvement for next Christmas Mass. So what was the difference?

But then it hit you. Lucifer was here. The congregation was talking about petty arguments and lava flow issues, and Lucifer, the monarch of this realm, the second most powerful being of all Creation, was here. And listened. And answered.

You had never seen God at any meeting –or anywhere, for that matter. You merely saw His light illuminating Heaven, and had only heard His voice once when He had created you. Sometimes, in fact, you even doubted the Seraphim themselves truly spoke directly to the Almighty. To the Metatron, yes. Perhaps. Never God.

But Lucifer… Lucifer seemed to care about how Hell was governed. And at that moment, just like your walk through the Woods of Suicides yesterday had made you realise that God did, in fact, leave and forsake His children, you understood that when His words as reported in the Bible said, "I am with you always," that, too, was a lie.

God lied and the Morningstar didn't. Yet you had been taught to praise the former and distrust the latter. Something wasn't right.

It was sometime in the early afternoon, you weren't sure exactly. Time seemed to move differently in Hell than it did in Heaven. With the ruler of Hell still by your side, you were walking through the City of Dis, following your first serious lead regarding the Cup of Eternal Grace, but your steps were less purposeful, your gaze less focused.

"You have been unusually quiet since this morning," Lucifer remarked, glancing at you sideways. "Are you alright?"

Their question jolted you out of your contemplation, and you looked at them with pure surprise. Did they really care about your current state of mind or was this a subtle way for them to tell you that they would not be wasting their time with someone lacking devotion to their mission?

"I'm… I'm fine," you replied with a tone devoid of conviction.

"You most certainly do not seem 'fine'. We have sensed your distraction. Is it about the Cup? We thought you would be delighted to have finally found a serious lead."

"It isn't about the Cup, no."

Lucifer came to a halt and sighed, evidently annoyed to have to worm this out of you.

"Then what?"

Still, you hesitated and let your gaze drop to the ground before answering.

"It's just… It is hard to reconcile everything I've seen here so far with what I believed about Hell. And I fear this is making me question… Well, everything."

"Ah."

You finally looked up at them.

"I mean, how can You be so dedicated to ruling this place? Is it not… confining?"

Lucifer was now regarding you with a mixture of what you suspected was their definition of sympathy and a wry smile.

"Confining? Perhaps. But it is a duty We must not fail in. Hell is Our responsibility. We do what needs to be done because it is Our realm to govern, for better or worse."

"But does it not bother You? The demons, the Damned, the endless circle of torment… This all feels so…"

"Cruel?" Lucifer offered.

You nodded. "And lonely."

The Lightbringer's expression softened ever so slightly.

"Cruelty is a matter of perspective, little angel," they said, purposely ignoring the matter of loneliness. "To some, what We do might seem cruel –it certainly does to mortals. To others, it is a necessary order." They then took a step closer, their blue eye boring deep into your soul, and whispered, "Which one is it to you now?"

Maybe you had been too quick to judge. Maybe there were things you didn't understand. You had always thought Hell to be a place of pure evil, but maybe there was much more than what Heaven had taught you, and you were glad to get to see it from a different perspective.

You opened your mouth, wanting to tell Lucifer just that when their eyes shot up, catching sight of something behind you.

"No. No, no, no," they called out, gracefully picking their robes to stride towards a demon hauling a poorly-looking soul. "This will not be sufficient, Baal. Take him back."

You took a deep breath to regain your composure, swallowing the strange emotions Lucifer's proximity had stirred within you, and turned around to observe the scene.

The soul's form was grotesque, twisted by the torture it had visibly just endured. His skin was pale and his limbs were contorted unnaturally, as if they had been repeatedly broken and healed in all the wrong ways. A faint wail escaped his cracked lips when he felt the Morningstar approach.

"Your Majesty," Baal said. "I don't think he can take any more today."

"Oh, he can," Lucifer assured. "And he will."

The dead man shook his head, his whole body quivering.

"No… No, please, no. I… I beg You. I beg You!"

"Mmh. We do like the sound of it. But you see, the punishment must fit the crime," Lucifer replied in a delicate tone before leaning to better face the sinner. "Tell Us, did you stop when that poor girl begged you to?"

Lucifer thus gave one silent nod to Baal, and the man resumed sobbing as the demon dragged him back to where he had come from.

Then, as he passed by you, he shouted, "Hey, you! The angel! Help me, please, help me! Take me with you! I'll be a good servant to our Lord, I swear!"

Your eyes followed the trail his dismembered limbs were leaving in the ash and dust then moved back to his. His pleas triggered no pity in you; Hell was his rightful place.

"The Devil is your Lord."

You obviously spent the rest of the afternoon gathering further clues as to where the Cup of Eternal Grace might be hidden. There were no concrete results for the moment, but you knew you were heading in the right direction. You could feel it.

The lead you were now following had to do with a demonic marketplace where powerful artefacts and forbidden objects were traded among demons. Lucifer had quickly explained that the Obsidian Bazaar, as it was called, was a hidden, ever-shifting place in Hell, moving with the Shadows, difficult to find and even harder to navigate without the right connections.

How hard could it be? you thought. With the Morningstar as your guide, you couldn't possibly get lost, could you?

But though the initial tip had come from a low-ranking demon who, when questioned by his sovereign, had quickly folded under pressure –and of whom you now couldn't recall the name no matter how hard you tried because you had spent the whole interaction asking yourself if he hadn't been one of those you had personally fought during the Great War in Heaven–, the rest of the demons were not as cooperative.

Sure, you had the Devil on your side, and they had told you just yesterday, after threatening their minions, that nobody here would try to make this any harder for you. But this was your quest, not Lucifer's, and the Devil wasn't exactly one to hand everything on a silver platter. In fact, they seemed rather content to let you lead the way, observing your efforts with amusement.

At one point, after yet another fruitless conversation with a particularly slippery imp who vanished into a cloud of smoke before you could press further, you turned to Lucifer with a hint of exasperation.

"I thought You said Your subjects wouldn't hinder my search," you remarked, trying to keep your tone neutral but unable to mask the edge in your voice.

Lucifer arched a graceful eyebrow, a subtle smirk on their lips.

"We did, and they do not. They are merely... exercising caution. The Obsidian Bazaar is not exactly fond of uninvited guests, especially those from above."

You crossed your arms, irritated. "So You're letting me chase phantoms."

The smile that tugged at Lucifer's lips widened a bit.

"Consider it part of your education. You might learn something valuable if you keep your eyes and mind open."

You weren't sure if they were talking about the chalice or something else entirely, but the underlying message was clear.

Walking and searching, you witnessed Lucifer interacting with various denizens of Hell –some bowed in respect, others approached with petitions or grievances. Just like at the meeting, Lucifer addressed each with a measured fairness, dispensing judgments and solutions that, while stern, were undeniably just. Some on the other hand had not lost their rebellious tendencies after their Fall, quite the opposite, and Lucifer knew just what to do with each of them as well.

"You care for them," you found yourself saying aloud at some point, the thought escaping your mouth before you could hold it back.

Lucifer glanced at you, an unreadable expression flickering across their features.

"'Care' is too strong of a strong word. We told you, it is Our function to maintain order here. Chaos has its place, but too much of it becomes tiresome."

"But You listen to them. You involve Yourself directly," you insisted. "In Heaven, all those trivial matters are delegated."

"We are well aware, dear. After all, this is the very reason of your presence in Our kingdom, is it not? But We are not like Our Father."

"Evidently."

There was bitterness in the ruler's tone, long-held resentment, too, and what you could best describe as hurt despite your knowledge that they were far from being sensitive.

It pained you. But before you could say anything else, Lucifer halted, their eyes narrowing on a demon walking a little further ahead.

"What?" you inquired after a pause. "Should we follow him?"

Frowning, Lucifer remained silent until the demon was out of sight.

"No," they said eventually. "Let us not let the trail go cold."

Unfortunately, you missed the location of the Obsidian Bazaar one too many times, and it became risky to try to find it again if you wanted to be back to the Silver City on time.

It was frustrating, yes, but you were now more confident that you would succeed in your mission than you had ever been, so it didn't matter too much in the end. Besides, as much as you hated to admit it, you weren't particularly in a hurry to complete this task any more. You still had so many questions, there was now so much you wanted to learn… Heaven could wait; there was, after all, all eternity ahead.

"It is getting late. Would you care to join Us for supper again?"

You weren't hungry, of course, and you knew that if Heaven ever got word of how you concluded your daily trips to Hell, you would be accused of fraternising with the enemy. Yet, you only hesitated a split second before nodding.

"I would."

The Lightbringer smiled then –a real smile– and, for once, you both flew back to their palace.

"Your wings are strong," Lucifer commented as you entered the dining hall.

"Did You have any doubt?" you replied, only half-joking.

"No."

"No?"

Again, Lucifer invaded your personal space. They were getting increasingly confident in overstepping the boundaries their royal function commanded, and you were getting proportionally incapable of blocking those inexplicable things that happened to you whenever they did.

This time, they even went as far as allowing their fingertips to graze your cheek, and it made you freeze.

"We see so much potential in you, sweet Dominion. And Heaven is wasting it all. Such a shame…"

It took you a second, but you eventually shook your head and sat down, determined to enjoy your supper without thinking too much back on what had just happened.

As it seemed customary in Hell, the meal was succulent, far from moderated, filled with exotic dishes that tickled your senses. Conversation flowed more easily than the previous day, though, with topics ranging from the absurdities of certain demonic customs to shared memories of celestial events long past seen from two very distinctive points of view.

With certain things Lucifer said, you even let yourself laugh. Good gracious Lord… You laughed. The realisation of how at ease you had become in Lucifer's presence made you flush, but though disconcerting to say the least, you had to admit it was not an entirely unwelcome feeling.

"Who thought fun could be found in the depths of Hell?" you said some time around desert, letting your mirth speak.

"Fun can be found anywhere that is not the Silver City," Lucifer retorted as they brought their glass to their lips to sip on some wine.

"Oh, I must disagree, Lightbringer."

"Mmh. Of course you must."

"Angels know how to have fun sometimes, have You forgotten?"

Lucifer leaned forward to try you.

"Please, do tell Us one single amusing story from above. Go on, entertain Us."

Not one to back down from a challenge, you thought about their request for a moment.

"Well, there was actually this one time, during one of our routine cloud formation, we were tasked with creating a particularly elaborate pattern in the sky. You know, something grand and inspiring for humans to look at."

You threw yourself into the story which, quite frankly, was not as amusing as you remembered now that you were telling it to the ruler of Hell. But you thought the wine helped and hoped it had the same intoxicating effect on their mind so your words would at least get a smirk out of them.

And so you went on, giggling every now and then, entirely oblivious to how Lucifer was looking at you for over half of the account.

"...and Ariel, poor thing, she was so stuck in that cumulonimbus, desperately flapping about, there were feathers everywhere and–" Finally, you noticed the strangely fond expression on Lucifer's face and interrupted yourself. "What?"

"You truly are something else, are you not?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked with a residual chuckle.

From the other side of the table, Lucifer's eyes raked over your body before avoiding you altogether.

"We're not entirely sure…"

That evening, back in the Silver City, you couldn't shake the day's events from your mind, much less what Lucifer had said at supper.

Even during compline, your thoughts wandered, incapable of focusing on the sermon but replaying conversations and observations, with so many questions swirling in your mind.

And it must have shown on your face because as you exited the Cathedral, Camael, the closest thing to a friend Heaven could allow you and next to whom you often prayed, came skipping to your side.

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course, Camael."

"Are you sure? You seem distant lately."

You paused for an instant, wondering whether to be brutally honest or tell only part of the truth. You chose the latter, picking your words carefully.

"This mission in Hell is... more complex than I anticipated. There is much to consider, that's all."

"I could tell," Camael said, a concerned look in their purple eyes. "There is this look on your face…" They looked left, then right, as if to make sure nobody would hear, and then whispered, "I think it's doubt."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your head starting to spin. Doubt? That was a word that couldn't be thrown around carelessly here.

"Well, I–"

"Trust in His Plan," Camael advised you as they put a hand on your shoulder. "Clarity will come in time."

"Clarity… Yes."

"I have to go now. It's my turn to oversee the Warriors' training. Peace be upon you, my friend."

"Uh-huh. Peace be upon you, Camael."

Meanwhile, in the City of Dis, Lucifer was following the faint yet unmistakable trail they had sensed earlier that day while searching for the Obsidian Bazaar with you. Or rather, more accurately, they were looking for the demon that had caught their attention then, Lahash, whose penchant for meddling in divine affairs was well-known.

Finding him home, Lucifer entered the demon's lair with an aura of quiet menace. Lahash, hunched and trembling, had been expecting a confrontation since this afternoon, but the sight of Lucifer's icy gaze actually sent a shiver of fear down his thorny spine.

"Y-Your Majesty," he began, his voice shaking as he attempted to bow. "I… I didn't know it was of such importance. If I had, I would have–"

"Silence," Lucifer cut him off abruptly. "Do not insult Us with your lies, Lahash. You knew exactly what you possessed. Have We not made it clear that this was of personal significance to Us yesterday?"

The demon's eyes darted around the room, searching for some escape or leverage.

"Perhaps we could, uh… make a deal? I mean, You–"

Before he could finish, Lucifer's hand shot out, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the jagged stone wall. His words turned to choked gasps.

"We do not barter with the likes of you," the monarch hissed, their eyes blazing with fury. "You have meddled with forces beyond your understanding. You will regret this."

Then, as Lucifer reached out to claim the Cup from Lahash' hands, a voice sliced through the silence.

"I see You have found what you were looking for."

Mazikeen.

Delicately cradling the chalice, Lucifer let the traitor fall to the ground and replied calmly.

"I have indeed. And now it is secure."

Mazikeen's eyes narrowed.

"Are You planning to tell the angel? Or will You keep playing this game until You have become bored?"

"This is no game, Mazikeen. Timing is everything."

Stepping closer, Mazikeen's voice dropped to a harsh snarl.

"You are treading dangerous ground, my Lord. Celestial beings and Fallen Ones do not mix, it never ends well with them. Remember who and what we are."

Anybody else but the she-demon would have been probably ended by now, because such affront terribly irritated the Morningstar.

"We are well aware of our identities and roles. Perhaps it is you who needs reminding of your place."

But Mazikeen was relentless.

"Do You truly believe that angels can be trusted? That any of them could see You for anything other than what You once were –God's most favoured, now cast out? No one will ever understand You as I do."

Lucifer raised their eyebrow, their eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Jealousy, Mazikeen? We thought you above such trivialities."

"I only seek to protect You. That angel–"

Lucifer raised their hand to silence her.

"Is Ours to deal with, as We see fit. Your devotion is not unnoticed, nor is it unappreciated. But We will not tolerate someone who lets their emotions blind their judgement at Our side. You would do well to remember that."

Clenching her jaw, Mazikeen swallowed her pride with difficulty before leaving without another word. Lucifer watched her with a strange lump forming in their throat as they began to realise what a slippery slope they were on indeed.

But what had been done couldn't be undone, nor did Lucifer truly want to put an end to all this. They would just wait to see how this would play out.

And there was evening, and there was morning –the third day.