#same for cho 😭😭

[octoir]

in the politest way possible, I disagree!

1a. Let’s go back and talk about SPEW.

It’s in their nature ter look after humans, that’s what they like, see? Yeh’d be makin’ ‘em unhappy ter take away their work, an’ insultin’ ‘em if yeh tried ter pay ‘em.

Wow. How incredibly annoying, Hermione is, for trying to free Elves when they don’t even want to be freed! How desperate, how cross, how naive and stuck-up she is. Doesn’t she know how to actually help house elves? Doesn’t she know that they actually like being mistreated? (what a weird parallel between SPEW and liberalism, that must just be coincidence)

Throughout GoF, Hermione and Ron bicker back and forth about SPEW. Ron finds it hilarious and mocks her relentlessly. What about Harry? What does he think? We don’t know. It’s oddly absent of opinion, except for moments like this,

“Yeah, right,” said Harry. He took a swig of butterbeer under his cloak. “Hermione, when are you going to give up on this spew stuff?”

when he asks when she’ll give up, like an exasperated parent asking their child when they’ll give up on their new phase, as if trying to abolish slavery can be portrayed as a ‘phase.’

I don’t think Harry is necessarily internally moralistic at all. He seems to depend on other people telling him what the right opinion is for marginalized groups, otherwise, he doesn’t care much for politics. Centaurs? Goblins? Meh. They’re not people, after all.

1b. I also think Harry isn’t really capable of moral nuance— for example, Marietta. Harry is absolutely furious at her. Cho tries to explain that Marietta’s mother was in danger of losing her job at the Ministry, yet Harry still just does not care, claiming she’s an “unforgivable traitor.” He even describes her (canonically) permanent disfigurement as “brilliant.”

And this doesn’t change. I know everyone hates the epilogue— fuck it, I’m citing it. He names one of his kids after Dumbledore and Snape. What does naming a child mean?

In my experience, people usually name their children after people or things they greatly like or admire (think of Grace, Hope, Noah, etc) as a form of hope that their children have similar qualities. Yikes!

Dumbledore and Snape are both teenagers trapped in adult bodies, unable to emotionally mature beyond key moments in their formative years (Ariana/Grindelwald, Lily, etc) and thus absolutely fuck Harry and the Trio over in almost laughably horrible ways. But Harry still respects them, feels positively towards them, names his son after them. There’s no moral nuance here. They’re not even morally grey characters— it feels like all of Dumbledore and Snape’s actions have been, somewhat ironically, excused for the “Greater Good,” excused for what they did in the end.

2. okay…so he calls TMR handsome. Euphemia’s point, however, was that Harry “called people ugly with no remorse.” I’m not dying on this hill, but there are a few quotes that I think are pretty interesting:

“Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head.”

“Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.”

“The lighted dial of Dudley’s watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist…”

“…and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him.”

“Behind him walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Harry of a picture he’d seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively.” (Millicent Bulstrode)

“Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face.” (Rita Skeeter)

“‘How are you?’ she said, standing up and holding out one of her large, mannish hands to Dumbledore.” (Rita Skeeter)

“Once or twice she had turned squatly in her seat to look at him, her wide toad’s mouth stretched in what he thought had been a gloating smile.” (Umbridge)

“‘Thank you very much, Professor.’ ‘You’re a good boy,’ said Professor Slughorn, tears trickling down his fat cheeks into his walrus mustache.”

A particular scene:

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.”

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away.

Very thought-provoking, awfully similar situations. I wonder what the key difference is 🤷

3. Okay, Draco. I’ll give you that— he did try to cast the cruciatus. However, I’m not trying to focus on whether or not that was justified. Justified or not, it gets brushed off way, way too easily. He does feel regret…but I don’t think it’s genuine, long-term regret. He tells Hermione that he does genuinely feel bad about it…

He was having a bad enough time without Hermione lecturing him; the looks on the Gryffindor team’s faces when he had told them he would not be able to play on Saturday had been the worst punishment of all. He could feel Ginny’s eyes on him now but did not meet them; he did not want to see disappointment or anger there. He had just told her that she would be playing Seeker on Saturday and that Dean would be rejoining the team as Chaser in her place. Perhaps, if they won, Ginny and Dean would make up during the post-match euphoria. … The thought went through Harry like an icy knife. …

But damn if his internal dialogue doesn’t reveal something different. And this is taken from literally the moment before he says that. Seriously, check page 594.

Everything just gets glossed over in favor of the Prince, of the shock of Snape as the Prince, and Harry’s attempted murder just gets…quietly hushed up. He doesn’t get expelled, he doesn’t even have to say sorry— maybe he serves a few detentions, but what the fuck is a few detentions in the face of a life? Harry has literally almost MURDERED someone and yet he faces ZERO consequences and appears to experience NO regret (which, hm, like father like son right? LMFAO)

4. Carrow. Oh, Carrow. The cruciatus curse is interesting.

“Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?” she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. “You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain - to enjoy it - righteous anger won’t hurt me for long…

Harry wanted to cause pain. Not just pain— unimaginable, excruciating pain, pain that he’s personally experienced. And he didn’t have to just want to cause pain—he also had to enjoy it. You can’t dismiss it as a moral outburst of “righteous anger,” because wanting to cause pain so severe it has literally driven people into insanity is not something you push past and sweep under the bed.

You mention that what sets Harry apart from someone like LV is his forgiving nature. Frankly, I think what sets him apart is that he’s been groomed. His attempted suicide shouldn’t be seen as this awe-inspiring, tear-jerking thing. It should be seen as what it really is— a culmination of (intentional or not) 7 years of consistently rewarded self-sacrificial behavior by literally every adult in his life.

it's so funny to me when harry's portrayed as a saint in tomarry fics. like, i get it, compared to tom, harry is a saint, but just because of that, it doesn't mean he's the nicest, purest little bean.

harry's literally fatphobic, unless it's towards people he likes. he calls people ugly with no remorse and he's side-eyeing someone 90% of the time.

he's against hermione's dedication to at least try and free the elves (which is basically being neutral on slave labour)

he idolises questionable people (dumbledore and snape)

he uses the cruciatus successfully. he nearly kills someone and barely feels any remorse for it (draco in hbp)

no matter how much you want to believe, his moral compass isn't the best

[sexy-mok]

[euphvrian]

i love my girl “bu yeon/naksu/cho yeong/mu deok”

[waloeders]

thinkin bout toji n cho gettin involved in my regular life like dnd or whatever aeuegegegehegeh

[astraystayyh]

An eye for an eye.

assassin!hyunjin x journalist!yn. slow burn. suggestive and angsty at times. she/her pronouns. 7.4k.

it is perhaps the most decisive night of your life. what are the odds that at the same time and place, it happens to be hyunjin’s too?

warnings: mention of alcohol, guns, bruises and injuries. brief talks of grief.

a.n: this is prompted by how hot villain hyunjin looks in the ate era 😭 it was supposed to be a drabble and i didn’t plan on it to be this long.. but i hope you’ll enjoy reading tehee it’s different from anything i’ve ever written so please feedback would be so appreciated,, muah muah 😘❣️

A ruby red lipstick. 

Your first childhood dream was to become a journalist, but not the complacent, obedient kind. You wanted to shed light on uncovered events, dig into the raw truth with your claws, and hold it up for the entire world to witness. You craved justice. You never believed in letting things flow their way, like a current that morphs into a torrent, destroying everything in its path.

No, you were a dam, forcing the water to change its trajectory. After all, you have always believed that all it took for change to happen was a trigger, a single flicker that would in turn burst into flames.

You wished to be it.

It was hard to grow into this specific kind of journalist, though. Not because you lacked drive, passion, or discipline. Especially not because you weren’t curious enough, brave enough. You were Seoul Press’s youngest and brightest reporter, after all.

But in a highly competitive field, you still needed your big story, your breakthrough which would put you on the radar of esteemed awards that all journalists venerate. Though you deemed it much easier to obtain a Pulitzer than to squelch your heart’s quest for truth, justice, and most importantly, in an unpredictable curb that life threw at you— revenge.

Your second childhood dream was to put on ruby red lipstick. Your thirteen-year-old self deemed it the ultimate show of power and confidence, each time you saw your aunt wearing one to her most important meetings. You dreamed of the day you could put it on as well, on your way to uncover the truth. 

And tonight, as you applied your ruby lipstick precisely, gliding the vibrant color across your lips, you felt nerves tighten like thorny vines in your stomach, puncturing your tender skin and leaving you a bloodied mess from within. 

Tonight, in your black gown and your ruby lipstick, in San Heo’s mansion, your country’s most prominent presidential candidate, and the man who ruined your life, it seemed like you were about to achieve both dreams at once.

… 

The clock hand points nine on Hyunjin’s Tank Louis Cartier watch. He throws a fleeting glance at the Victorian watch, before eyeing the people mingling at San Heo’s party. 

He knows all of the guests, memorized their faces and their habits. He knows the school where they drop off their kids and what bar they frequent every Sunday. He memorized their mannerisms and antics, knows what set them off and what did not.

This is the fruit of two years of work, after all.

He knows exactly why everyone is here, tonight particularly. Three politicians’ families and friends gathered as a show of power, to prove that they weren’t afraid of whoever’s been forcing politicians to come clean about their crimes for the past three months.

In the least glamorous manner, at that too, to put it delicately—ten bloodied tapes sent to the country’s most prominent media channels, where ministers and heads of multinationals are bound by ropes to a chair, recalling their most heinous crimes: money laundering and embezzlement for most, theft and murder for some.

The latter is Jung Cho’s case, San’s most successful competitor for the presidency, who has also mysteriously vanished from the police’s grasp since the release of his tape. No one can get a hold of poor Jung Cho anymore. 

Hyunjin smirks lightly to himself. His knuckles seem to have healed well since he last dislocated Jung Cho’s jaw. Well, that was before he shot him through the roof of his mouth.

The golden cuffs of Hyunjin’s Versace blazer reflect the light of the dangling crystal chandeliers, and he runs a weary hand through his black locks. He never chose to gel them back; he wasn’t one for structure, preferring the feeling of his silky strands brushing against his fingers. 

His eyes catch those of San’s across the room, who tips his glass of whiskey towards Hyunjin—a job well done, he reads in San’s stare. Hyunjin raises his red wine back, before settling it across the table once more.

It is a boring half an hour that awaits Hyunjin.

That is until he sees you.

You weren’t here two minutes ago, Hyunjin is sure of this. And, judging by the way you are leisurely sipping your sparkling water, your eyes gliding across the room in search of someone in particular, you had just stepped foot into the party.

Fashionably late, if he were to add.

But that is none of Hyunjin’s concern. What intrigues him the most is that your face isn’t familiar to him. That isn’t normal.

You weren’t supposed to be here, then.

Who are you?

As if hearing his question, your gaze locks onto his. He cocks an eyebrow at you; you mirror the gesture like clockwork.

Thus ensues an intense game of eye contact. You don’t break away from his gaze until two minutes later, a light scoff escaping your lips that he can discern even from afar. You then turn to look at San, your eyes morphing into something fiercer, more determined— a sniper finally locking eyes on its target.

Hyunjin feels a slight headache growing at the base of his temple. He downs his drink, before taking long strides towards you.

It’s official, you’re going to be his nuisance for the night.

27 minutes.

“Care to dance?” Hyunjin inquires as he materializes before you, a hand extended towards your body.

“Pardon?”

“A dance? To the lovely music we are hearing right now?” 

“I know what you mean,” you roll your eyes, leaning your body against the chair right next to you. Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over your legs peeking through the high slit of your dress. Had it been another setting, the sight of your black sheer tights would have made this night turn much differently.

Your voice dispels his thoughts like morning fog. “I mean why are you asking me?”

“Because I’m bored.”

“How flattering,” you grin sarcastically and Hyunjin feels the smallest urge to return your smile, although he knows it isn’t genuine.

“I know. Shall we?”

Your gaze flees to San once again, seemingly debating something in your head before finally sighing.

In the few seconds of scrutiny you consecrate to his boss, Hyunjin’s gaze lingers on your bright red lipstick, and the way you tuck your lip slightly into your mouth as you ponder.

A beautiful nuisance, he corrects himself.

“Fine,” You place your manicured hand in his in response.

“What’s your name?” he asks, as he settles one hand atop your waist. The fabric of your black dress is too thin, he can feel the heat emanating from your body seeping through his palm.

Focus. You need to discover who she is.

“Julia,” your hand settles atop his shoulder, while the other entwines with his. “And you?”

“Sam. What are you doing here?” he quickly inquires.

You shake your head slightly, gliding your hand from the base of his neck to the end of his shoulder.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask you a question?”

Hyunjin tilts his head curiously at you, before smirking slightly— “Yes ma’am.”

“What do you work for?”

“I’m Mr. Heo’s political adviser.”

“You’re quite young, though,” you note.

“I know.”

“And I don’t see you by his side a lot.”

“I work in the background, mostly. I don’t do well with the cameras.” He spins you around, picking up speed as the orchestra picks up the violin. “How do you know Mr. Heo?”

“I’m Kang’s niece, you know, Mr. Heo’s economic adviser? Uncle Kang is ill, and my father is out of the country so both of them chose not to come.”

Hyunjin’s memory faintly brushes off Kang’s single niece, completing her architectural studies in Paris’ Sorbonne. 

“C’est beau à Paris?” Is it beautiful in Paris?

You don’t even blink— “Même magnifique, tu devrais visiter.” Marvelous even, you should visit. 

Checks out.

“I’ll hold you on to that offer,” he says, before spinning you around, your chest settling across his back. Hyunjin ignores how his heart skips a singular beat at your proximity.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asks, his lips tantalizingly close to the shell of your ear. He watches as your chest rises once before your airy voice floods his ear.

“Networking, though you didn’t quite allow me to speak to anyone but you,” you tease slightly.

“I fail to see what an architect has to do with politicians,” he muses, as he sways you gently from left to right.

“I want to oversee the building of Jamsil Sports Complex.”

“So you’re using your father for work connections?” he taunts and you swivel around, placing both your hands on his shoulders before interlinking your fingers behind his neck, caging him within the notes of your perfume.

“Is it a crime?” your voice is airy, too airy, everything you say sounds rehearsed, you don’t seem intimidated by him, by this setting, as opposed to how a newly graduated student, one who grew up away from her father’s world should.

“Depends on your definition,” he counters.

“Do you regard it as such?”

Hyunjin’s gaze flickers all over yours. He senses something urgent in your gaze, as if you are pushing for more, beyond what this simple question entails.

When he remains quiet for a tad too long, you let your hands drop by your body, taking a step away from him.

“I need to go,” you say. He grabs your wrist instantly. “Where to?”

“Bathroom.” And with that, you quickly turn around and walk away, leaving behind notes of your floral perfume and ghosts of your ruby lips.

Hyunjin steals a glance at his clock. 09:13 p.m.

He drags a hand across his forehead wearily. He won’t let you ruin this night.

17 minutes. 

You are washing your hands obsessively in the bathroom, lost in thought as you gaze at your reflection, all blurry from your unfocused eyes. You only turn off the water once your skin starts to sting from the force of your touch. 

The orange-scented soap doesn’t seem to get rid of the stench of blood. 

A week ago. 

“I don't understand your obsession with Mr. Heo,” Christopher Bang calmly removed his glasses, placing them next to the shiny placate reading ‘Editor in Chief of Seoul Press’.

“He is corrupt.”

“As all politicians are,” he spoke matter of factly, and it angered you how unfazed he seemed before your, you admit, far-fetched request. 

“You don’t understand, sir. He’s different.”

“Did he do something to you?” Chris asked, leaning back against his chair. You felt exposed all of a sudden, like a flower left bare without its stem. 

“Would my answer change anything?” You inquired tentatively. 

“It would explain many things, yes actually,” he got up from his chair, before sitting on the one right across from you. “You are a talented journalist, Yn.”

“Thank you—“

“But you are utilizing the company’s resources to conduct your personal investigation on San Heo.” 

He knew. 

“You’ve been working on his case from the day you joined our media. Which was exactly 389 days ago. I know that you’ve managed to uncover quite some dirt, one that would make an explosive case if you get more information. That’s why I turned a blind eye to everything you did because I trust your skills and integrity.” 

You remained silent.

“But now, you’re asking me to completely disregard my deontology by finding a way for you to break into Mr. Heo’s mansion. That is a crime.”

“Not break in. I want an invite to his party, it is the first time he organized one in his home, probably the last time, it is my only chance to—”

“Details,” he waves a hand disinterestedly in the air, cutting you off. “Your intentions aren’t to mingle with politicians, it is to dig in his office and find something of substance. While I admire the lengths of what you want to go through, I must stop you here.” He leveled his eyes with yours. “This can land you in jail, he is the most important man in our country right now.”

“What if I tell you he did something to me, that he ruined my life? Would you help me then?” your voice was hoarse, tears pricked your eyes as you tried your best not to avert your gaze. You hated displays of weakness, despised them even more in professional settings. 

“What did he do?” 

You bristled at the question, ugly memories flashing before your eyes like a blinding light, your body begging you to flee away from this question and the heavy response it entailed.

Still, you spoke. 

Christopher remained silent as you recalled what happened on your doomsday, the night in which your world ceased to spin, and simultaneously, the reason why you joined his company, to begin with. When your sniffles subsided a few minutes later, he gently handed you a napkin, a silent invitation to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his weary face before finally speaking. 

“I’ll give you the invite tomorrow. Say that you are Kang’s niece, her name is Julia. She went to Paris for architectural studies, and that you are back for a vacation. Kang is ill these days, he won’t attend the party, and his brother is out of the country, no one will question you.”

“How do you know this?” 

“Because I know them,” he toyed with his lower lip lightly before a tiny smile drew upon it. “An eye for an eye, right? I’m Kang’s cousin. I changed my last name because I didn’t wish to deal with them anymore.” 

“So Bhang isn’t your real last name?”

“No.” He ran his thumb across his lower lip, seemingly debating adding something. “San’s office is on the far end of the third floor.” 

You heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

13 minutes. 

It was one thing to stare at photographs of San seared behind your reddened eyelids or to stand at the far end of his press conferences. It was another to step foot into his mansion, to stand amidst powerful people who are capable of ruining your life had they known of your motives. 

But you didn’t have time to dwell on your personal feelings. Fear, nerves, all of those feeble emotions pale before the chance you have today. So, you nod at your reflection in the mirror, count to three in your head, and finally head out of the bathroom. 

“Five minutes, were you crying?” Sam’s bored voice startles you as soon as you set foot outside. He’s leaning on the wall across from the door, hands deep into the pockets of his suit.

Not again. 

“I know that I’m very pretty but don’t you have better things to do than to follow me?” you ask, pausing right in front of him. 

“I’m not following you, I just happen to be particularly fond of the architecture of this corridor,” he jokes and you ignore his words, walking past him with a renowned determination. He pushes himself off the wall, only to grasp your wrist once again, spinning you around until you’re facing him. 

He chuckles softly, tilting his head to the side. His icy blue contacts pierce through your skin like a puncture needle.  “You know, I’m curious, Julia. You seemed very eager to get away from me.”

You take a step forward, closing the distance between you two. “Have you considered that I found your company utterly boring?”

“You wound me,” he places a hand on his heart, any trace of humor absent from his voice. His grip tightens on your wrist for a millisecond. A warning. “I need you to leave.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t be here tonight.”

“And why should I listen to you?” you challenge and his eyes darken further. 

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then let me go,” you mutter, slipping your hand away from his grasp. 

“Julia,” he says sternly, pulling you back till your back is against the wall, his hands rooted on either side of your body. 

It is a dimly lit hallway, and the sound of the orchestra barely reaches you. Your worry intermingles with a new kind of nerves, all orchestrated by his proximity, and the way his gaze brushes against your body like a skilled painter. 

“I’m not joking, leave.” His voice is much softer when he adds, “It’s for your own good. What will happen later doesn’t concern you.”

He knows something that you don’t know, something that, from his tone, none of the guests are aware of. You see something human in his eyes, in the slight crease doting his eyebrows. He seems genuinely worried for the innocent civilian he thinks you are. 

Your eyes turn to look at his hand near your head, only to notice his faintly bruised knuckles, shades of purple and green doting a delicate porcelain skin. They have healed well, then. 

Should you unearth the memory from two weeks ago— pleas for mercy, a deafening gunshot, and an excruciating silence afterward, the quiet after the murder that you remember most? 

Then, another scene rings in your head like bells of an ancient church— a bruised hand brushing against your own in an art gallery from two days ago, raven locks, and familiar, melancholy-tinted eyes. 

Could it be? 

Your voice turns sweet, tender, “should I trust you for the night?” your thumb brushes against the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the concealer you knew you spotted.

There it is, the eye mole you thought he covered. 

It clicks in your mind in an instant, pieces of a puzzle falling into place, there are still a few missing but you manage to grasp the bigger picture.

If he’s not letting you go then he could be of good use. 

What other choice do you have but to gamble with a killer? 

Your sharp nails drag across the nape of his neck, before settling right beneath his jaw. You mimic a gun, his eyes narrow in response.

“Is this how you killed Jung Cho, Hyunjin?” 

You feel a cold barrel instantly press against your stomach. “Police officer?” he asks. 

“No.”

“Journalist ?”

“Yes,” you slowly mutter.

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t wish to tell you.” The gun only presses further onto your skin. You feel a cold bead of sweat roll down your exposed spine. 

Breathe. 

“It’s Yn.”

“What do you know?”

“It’d be easier for me to talk if you removed the gun,” you smile lightly and Hyunjin only leans further, a distance as thin as a blade between you both.

“Speak.”

“You killed the only candidate that stood a chance in front of San. You drove him to the empty deposit near Inwangsan Mountain, tortured him for three days, filmed his confessions, and then sent them to many media outlets. Ours included. I know it because I followed you.” 

“Why did you follow me?” he questions. Your eyes flee to the end of the corridor where an impossible staircase sits. You are wasting your time. 

“Because I am investigating San. And through following him I ended up getting to know you. You are different from everyone he meets. Very secretive. So I figured it’d be worth a shot following you too,” you explain as calmly as you can. You’re sure the barrel of the gun will leave a bruise on your skin. 

“And why didn’t you write a piece about me? Everyone is dying to know who I am.”

“I have, I just haven’t released it. If I don’t come back home in an hour my head chef will post the video of you murdering Mr. Cho on every SNS. The public loves you for what you’re doing. But the politicians will come together to kill you. They have a price on your head. You are threatening everything they ever built.” 

Hyunjin drags his gun up your stomach slowly, trails it across your collarbones before it settles on your jaw. 

“I could kill you too, right now.” His tone is cold, evil. Very different from the man who asked you to dance. You know that I can.” 

“My death would only sign yours.”

Hyunjin’s forehead rests on the wall right next to your head. You can hear him inhale deeply, hear the gears turning in his head. “Fuck, you are driving me crazy.”

He drops the gun and takes a step back. “Why didn’t you expose me?”

“You are not the one that matters to me.” 

“What do you want from me then?” 

“Three minutes. Open San’s office, and then I’ll go. No one will ever know of your identity.” 

He remains silent. 

“Hyunjin, please.” 

“Fuck, fine. But whatever happens next you’ll have to trust me, okay?” his hands settle on your shoulder, his eyes leveling with yours, “if you’re not leaving then you’ll have to trust me enough, for tonight.” 

8 minutes. 

“After you,” Hyunjin bows slightly as he opens the door to Heo’s office. You step in first, and he steals a quick glance behind him—no one’s here, for now.

“That saved me the hassle of breaking the door.”

“You know how to do that?” he asks, slightly impressed.

“One of my hobbies,” you shrug before walking directly to the desk. Hyunjin leans against the wall, watching as you lift your dress slightly, revealing a small packet tucked into your garter. The sight drives Hyunjin a little crazy, and he closes his eyes for a second.

He really, really wishes he hadn’t met you here tonight.

You take out a listening device, tapping the bottom of the desk until you find a suitable spot, and then you stick it in place.

“Another one of your hobbies?” he smirks.

You giggle. “Mm, aren’t I the most fun?”

“You are,” his eyes drag across your figure, and he notices a slight falter in your posture, “the most beautiful too.”

You blink, and he’s suddenly in front of you, trapping you between the auburn desk and his toned body. You don’t seem intimidated, placing a palm on his chest as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Aren’t you curious why I’m going after San?”

“No, he angers a lot of people.” His thumb caresses your cheek, a touch so soft in contrast to his next words. “A lot of people fantasize about his death.”

“Are you one of them?” you question, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Right now, all I’m fantasizing about is you.” His voice is husky, and he finds it comes out much easier when he actually likes the person he’s attempting to seduce. 

It takes you a few seconds to speak again. “Is that so?”

“Mm, let’s dance.”

“Didn’t we dance downstairs?”

“That was Sam and Julia dancing,” he says as he entwines his fingers with yours. “You see, Hyunjin is a different kind of dancer.” His hand presses against your back, snaking against your bare skin. “Can I pull you closer?” he asks, and you simply nod, eyes fleeting widely all over his face. 

His chest presses to yours, so close he’s sure your hearts are syncing with one another, his inhales alternating with your exhales. 

“Yn,” he whispers your name, as you look up at him through the curve of your eyelashes.  

“Yes, Hyunjin?” His name sounds soft as it stumbles from your ruby lips, innocent from all the blood that drenches his soul.

“I like the way you say my name.” He glances at his watch above your head. 9:57.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, as your hand drags up his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair and gently dragging it backward, exposing his enticing neck to you. “You are always looking at your watch, what are you waiting for?”

He chuckles faintly, grabbing both your hands and spinning you around till his chin rests on the small of your shoulder. “You’re perceptive,” he mutters, as his fingers drag down your bare arms. “But so am I,” he says coldly as he grabs both your hands, bringing them behind your back. “Look, your hands are shaking just from my proximity. I don’t think you have it in you to film me killing Jung Cho. I don’t think you have it in you to watch me torture someone for three days.”

Click. Cold metal wraps around your wrist in an instant, handcuffing you to the leg of the table before which you’re standing. 

“I think you lied to me, Yn. I don’t like being lied to.”

“What are you doing?” you ask disoriented, panic spilling from your being like an overflowing cup.

Hyunjin pays you no mind, taking out his phone and dialing a number. “Boss, we have a problem. I caught a journalist trying to get into your room,” he taps his chin slowly as he looks at you. “No, no need for security. Just come alone. Don’t alarm the guests.”

2 minutes

“Are you serious?” you ask as soon as he hangs up, a prominent lump in your throat. “You told me to trust you.”

“Did I say I was worth that trust?” he pouts, seemingly mocking the vulnerable ordeal you found yourself in. 

A loud chuckle escapes your lips, your head thrown back as if before a hilarious spectacle of sorts. Hyunjin frowns, crossing his arms in front of his chest as your giggles slowly quiet down. 

“You’re a peculiar person, aren’t you Hyunjin? You need to hide your identity but you crave normalcy still, so you open your art gallery. You go to crazy lengths to cover your moles and wear contacts because you wish for people to look at you with admiration in their eyes, kindness. But you don’t deserve it.” There is a fire lit in your eyes, flames latching into his black suit and burning his already scarred skin. “You’ll always be as evil as them.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t respond for a while, his eyes simply softening at your words.

“I know,” he whispers. 

“Who’s this?” San’s voice booms loudly as he sets foot into the office. Hyunjin’s eyes break apart from your figure to look at San, bowing slightly to greet him. 

“Julia, she infiltrated the party,” Hyunjin explains, stealthily locking the door behind San. “She’s been investigating you for quite some time now. And… She knows about the murders.”

“Mm, she’s clever. Should we hire her?” San jokes and Hyunjin smiles politely, dragging his eyes over your face. You simply roll your eyes, seemingly more bored than scared. 

Cute. 

“Anyways,” Heo stares at you for a fleeting second before tapping Hyunjin’s shoulder. “She looks easy to kill. Just get rid of her. But don’t stain my carpet though, it's expensive.”

“Sure thing,” Hyunjin nods, taking out his gun and pointing it at your temple. He steals a final look at his watch— 9:30 p.m. he reads. 

Time’s up. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you go?” Hyunjin mocks, cocking his head at you. In a split second, a bullet ricochets loudly, but not at you. It grazes San’s ear, making him pause near the door, his back towards you both. 

“Right boss?” Hyunjin’s tone is slightly whiny, annoying is the best way to describe it. You can hear police sirens blare loudly outside, see the red and blue hues reflect off the window. Loud shouts erupt downstairs, Hyunjin leisurely reloads his gun, one hand deep into his pocket, San’s posture slightly falters, his fingers digging into the skin of his palm. 

“Do you hear that Heo? Your mansion is surrounded. All your filthy dirt is exposed. The police officers are arresting everyone downstairs right now. And they’re coming for you. The man of the hour.” Hyunjin makes a show of curtsying deeply. You stifle a giggle at his theatrics.

“You dare turn your back on me?” San yells, pivoting around to face Hyunjin’s barrel, the latter simply yawns as if it’s a regular Saturday activity for him. 

“Oh, don’t get emotional on me,” Hyunjin pouts, before his eyes narrow down coldly. “Now kneel. Let’s end this without staining your carpet.”

You see San slowly lowering himself to the ground, Hyunjin’s gaze sets on you for a millisecond, his pupils dilated in apology, in concern, you don’t know, you don't get to decipher his look because San is taking out his gun from his back pocket, aiming it at Hyunjin. “Watch out”— is all you manage to shout, and hyunjin ducks in an instant, propelled by the sound of your voice to the ground.

He could have died, he could have died because he looked at you. 

It all happens so fast, Hyunjin diving into San to take away his gun, both their weapons flinging into the air, San punching Hyunjin’s mouth and the latter retaliating by flinging his fist up against his nose. You’re struggling with your restraints, trying to reach out for the lone gun that fell to your right. 

A bit more, tune out the sirens, tune out the punches, slowly, only a few centimeters left, your wrist is on fire but that is the least of your concern, almost, there, you grab it.

You fire the gun.

It’s quiet once again, for the first time in two years, it is quiet in your head.

It’s over. 

You close your eyes, tilting your head back into the desk. The sound of your mother’s laughter floods your ears, her airy giggles as she brushes your hair and tucks you into her chest, her being a vision of beauty underneath the sun’s caress. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin kneels before you, wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks with his bruised knuckles. He is worried, even behind those icy blue contacts, you can still grasp his worry.

You nod, swallowing the sob that is lodged within your throat. Hyunjin is quick to unlock your handcuffs, entwining your fingers with his as he pulls you off the ground. 

You slightly push him aside, your eyes set on San’s bleeding figure. He’s still alive, rugged breaths escaping his chest, his palm pressed to the bullet that punctuated his stomach. 

“I want him dead,” you mutter, grabbing Hyunjin’s forearm to support yourself, “but I want him to rot in prison too.” 

“He will, for all his crimes. I have it all documented. The police have it too,” his palm rubs soothingly against your back, you lean further into his touch.

“He’s a monster.” 

“I know. They all are. That’s why I killed them,” he simply says, before guiding you back to a couch on the right of the office. He shrugs off his suit, draping it over your trembling shoulders. 

“Give me a minute.”

You watch as he grabs the gun you fired off of the ground, before taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wipes your fingerprints, making sure to leave his all over the gun. He then walks to the table, taking away your listening device and crushing it to the ground.

He’s calm and collected as he rearranges the scene to his liking, it looks like he has done this a million times before, as if this is the element in which he thrives— a sunflower turning to face the sun, at long last. 

He kneels before your freezing figure one last time, tilting your chin to the side so you’d look at him.

“I fired the gun. You had no idea any of this would happen, you’re just an ambitious journalist who wanted an insider scoop.” He senses you’re somewhere far, pulled by the ropes of memories that had long haunted your dreams. His warm palm presses to your cold cheek, your eyes are glossy as they rest on him. 

“You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who used you as a scapegoat to bring San up here, just like I agreed with the police. Alright? You did nothing.You know nothing.” 

“Alright.”

Hours pass in a cold blur, the weight of time lost on you as three police officers take turns questioning you. You repeat the lines Hyunjin taught you, your voice flat, devoid of emotion. Even as you step out of the police station, with Hyunjin's hand resting gently on your back, you feel nothing. A slight tremor runs through you when he mentions that San survived and will be transferred to prison once he's healed.

You don’t know why you’re disappointed you didn’t become a killer.

You don’t know anything, don’t feel anything as Hyunjin drives you home. You don’t question how he knows your address or the code to your elevator. It’s only when you unlock your door and he starts to pull away that reality snaps back.

Without thinking, you grab his wrist, suddenly aware of the loneliness that awaits you inside, an uninvited guest preying on your vulnerable heart.

“Would you like some tea?” you ask, your voice tinged with hopelessness, knowing just how silly you sound. Why would he stay? He has so many loose ends to thread after his finishing blow, you know he’s part of something far larger than you. 

As if mocking your question, his phone buzzes for the tenth time in the span of five minutes.

But then, to your surprise, he turns it off.

“Yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “I’d like some tea.”

As you bring the water to a boil, Hyunjin rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt, casually wandering around your apartment as if it’s not his first time setting foot in here. He’s always at ease— with a gun pointed at him or while looking at the souvenir magnets on your fridge. 

His calmness helps instill some peace in your heart too. 

“I like your apartment,” he says, accepting the cup of chamomile you hand him. “It’s cozy, feels like a home.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as you sink into the couch, your head hung low. So much has happened in just half an hour, too much for you to fully comprehend and process.

“Let me see,” he says a few sips later, as he gently removes the cup from your clutch, before sliding his thumb across your right wrist. The bruises have already begun to form, the red marks from the handcuffs clear evidence of your struggle to reach the gun.

“I’m sorry I involved you in this,” he murmurs, frowning as he avoids your gaze, staring intently at your wrist as if he could will the blue hues away. “I didn’t plan for you to be at the party.”

“I involved myself,” you chuckle softly. You’re not one for physical touch, but you don’t feel the usual urge to pull away from his grasp. His hands are warm, the roughness of his fingertips a stark contrast to the softness of your skin.

“You’re a stubborn journalist,” he says with a small smile, finally meeting your gaze. you suddenly yearn to look into the rich brown of his eyes once more. Was its shade as deep as you remember?

“And you’re an excellent painter,” you retort, eliciting a surprised laugh from him. The sound is unexpectedly endearing, and you’re caught in a whirlwind of contradictions. Is this really the same man you saw taking a life? The same man now holding your wrist as if it were made of porcelain?

“Right, you figured out my identity. What gave me away?” he asks, still smiling.

“I heard about this new gallery where the artist’s only clue to his identity was the name signed on his paintings. So, I decided to see for myself. While everyone else was captivated by the artwork, I noticed you, standing in the corner, observing the reactions of everyone around. You smiled when someone smiled, and your grin grew wider with each compliment. That’s when I started to suspect that the artist was you, all along.”

“I remember it now. I bumped into you as you were leaving,” he says, and you nod.

“What stood out to me were your sad eyes. That’s what I remember most. Well, besides your bruised knuckles.”

“And that’s how you connected the dots.”

“Yes, and your eye mole, too. Even though you tried to conceal it with makeup, it still showed.”

“Very perceptive,” he says with a grin.

“Thank you.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll expose your identity?” you ask, as his hand gently slides into yours, his fingers resting lightly on top of yours. A simple, innocent touch, yet it stirs something unknown in the pits of your stomach. 

“I trusted you when you said I’m not the one who matters to you.”

“Why would you trust me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I miss putting my faith in someone, even if they end up failing me. Isn’t that the most human trait of all?”

How could an assassin create such heartfelt paintings, overflowing with emotions too hard to explain with words, let alone colors? Perhaps because this isn’t the life he always wanted.

“Did you choose this?” you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the interrogation, or the near brush with death, or perhaps the relief that this chapter is finally closing for both of you. But something compels you to keep talking, to ask, to hold on to Hyunjin just a little longer.

“Being a killer, you mean?” His voice carries a tenderness that seems at odds with the weight of his words. He’s a walking contradiction, balancing two identities within himself—Hyunjin and Sam. One feels heavier on his bones than the other. 

“I grew up in this world,” he continues. “My parents run a large network of assassins—or vigilantes, depending on how you see it. Some people hire us, and sometimes we act on our own when we see injustice or corruption festering for too long. We conduct thorough background checks. We only kill those who truly deserve it. We always make sure of that.”

“An eye for an eye.”

He nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I always feel good in the midst of a case. One less evil in the world. But after, there’s just this emptiness. Now what? I always wonder. So I try to fill the void with painting.”

“Now what…” you repeat, your voice trembling as a lump forms in your throat. “Now what? What should I do now?” Tears well up and spill over suddenly, streaming down your face in an unstoppable torrent. “San is behind bars, but my mom isn’t coming back. So what now? What was all of this for if I can’t get her back?”

You find yourself burying your head in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you, holding you close as if he could contain your sadness, preventing it from seeping from your soul and reaching your mother, wherever she may be.

You haven’t allowed anyone to hold you like this in two years, denying yourself any comfort until you could bring your mother’s killer to justice. It was a promise you made to yourself after San drunkenly ran her over and fled the scene, leaving you alone to hug her cold body in that sterile hospital room.

“It drove me crazy,” you sob, your words broken and incoherent. “He bribed everyone—the doctors, the paramedics, the stores nearby. Everyone acted like my mom didn’t d-die because of h-him,” you hiccup, and Hyunjin only holds you tighter, closer, enough to stitch your wounds with time, only if he remains this close to you. If he wishes to, if you allow him to.

“But now he’s behind bars, and I still don’t have my mom. What do I do now that I can’t bury myself in revenge? Hyunjin, what should I do when I miss her so much and I can’t see her?”

Five hours later.

“The article is perfect, no corrections needed,” Chris says, removing his glasses and looking at you with approval. “Excellent work, Yn.” 

“Thank you,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief, but mostly exhaustion. “I stayed up all night working on it.” 

“Goid, it’s only 6 a.m. so we know that no other media outlet has touched this yet. Our article will be the one to shape public opinion. This is a big win for us. It’s a thorough investigation, and I’m confident you’ll get the recognition you deserve,” he writes something down onto his notebook before looking at you once more. “Take a few days off—you’ve earned it. I’ll reach out if anything urgent comes up.”

“Thank you, sir.” You bow slightly before turning to leave the suffocating office. Or maybe it’s your own mind that’s suffocating you. You don’t have time to dwell on the question before Chris speaks again. 

“Oh, Yn?” Chris calls out just as your hand touches the doorknob. “One last thing, did you ever figure out who was behind all those tapes?”

Your grip on the doorknob tightens imperceptibly. “No sir, no clue.” 

One month later. 

It’s a few minutes before the art gallery closes when you walk in. Hyunjin spots you before you see him, your distinctive walk etched in his memory as vividly as if it were only yesterday that he had seen it.

He approaches quietly, stopping behind you as you gaze at the newest addition to his collection.

“Is this us?” you ask, not turning around. Hyunjin’s eyes follow yours to the abstract painting of a couple waltzing in a ballroom, their hands intertwined just like yours were, four Saturdays ago.

“Yes,” he replies softly.

“It seems I left an everlasting impression on you,” you tease, he can hear the smile in your voice without seeing it. 

“You did. You looked beautiful.”

“So did you.”

“I’m glad you came,” he says sincerely. “I missed you.”

“But we only spent a day together,” you giggle quietly, and Hyunjin wishes he could capture your laugh and tuck it away in the veins of his heart.

“Didn’t that day feel like a year, though?” he muses, resting his chin gently on your shoulder. You lean back into him, closing the space between you.

“It did,” you admit before nervously clearing your throat. “Are you free right now? We could grab a drink, if you’d like?”

“Chamomile tea?” he chuckles, and your laughter vibrates through his being.

“No, something stronger this time.”

He hums, hesitating as he despises the words that would stumble out of his mouth. “I have some things to handle tonight. Urgent matters.”

“Ah,” your voice dips slightly, the disappointment clear in your tone. “Well, it’s okay. I’ll see you another time, then,” you say, finally turning to face him. 

He really missed you. 

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

“Okay.”

“Congratulations on your award, by the way,” he says, watching your expression soften, a delicate smile forming on your lips.

“You saw it?”

“I did. I read your piece, too. I’m sure your mom would be proud of you.”

Tears of gratitude well up in your eyes, and you squeeze Hyunjin’s hand tightly as you whisper, “Thank you. Really. Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin’s words linger in your soul, echoing through your mind for the rest of your day, his voice the only sound that seems to fill the silence within you. That is until three loud knocks resonate through your apartment, just minutes before midnight. 

You open the door to find Hyunjin standing there, a fresh bruise marring his jaw, his knuckles freshly scraped and bloodied.

“Let me guess, you had nowhere else to go?” you joke, trying to regain your composure at the sight of him once more.

“No,” he replies, his tone earnest, “I wanted to come to you.”

Your smile falters at the sincerity in his voice. You can’t quite place what it is about Hyunjin that pulls you toward him, how amidst everything that’s happened in the past month, the most vivid memory is how he held you gently as you cried and cried.

“I forgot something,” he says, pulling a tube of cooling cream from his back pocket and offering it to you. “I meant to give this to you for your bruised wrists.”

He’s a month late, you both know your wrists have long since healed.

“I… yeah,” he sighs before your silence, turning to leave, a light blush tinting his cheeks. But before he can, you drop the tube and grab his hand, spinning him back around.

“I forgot something too,” you say quickly before pressing your lips against his.

You don’t fully understand what draws you to Hyunjin, but you know his lips taste as sweet as cherry chapstick, that his hand around your waist feels like water flowing gently over your skin, warm and encompassing. That his brown eyes remind you of sunlight dancing on autumn leaves, that no one has touched your soul as deeply as he has.

You know you wish to make him feel as human as he makes you.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡fair day, fun day 🎡

"you're making me feel brand new, you're more than the sunshine in my eyes~"

modern au! choso kamo x reader | word count: 831 words

summary: amusement park date with choso 🎡

warnings: none! not proofread

note: little self indulgent fic cause i literally could find little to no fluff for this man on here 😭 if anyone knows any jjk fluff or angst writers, pls let me know!

the sounds of delightful screams and laughter as people rode various rides. the smells of delicious food and snack options in the air. the fun game stands with cute prizes hanging from their ceilings. all of if made the amusement park atmosphere what it was. today, you were here with your boyfriend, choso.

you were shocked when he told you he'd never been to an amusement park, wanting him to experience the same excitement and fun. you two held hands as you walked around, holding churros and debating on what ride to go on next.

"what do you wanna go on next, cho?" you asked, gently squeezing his hand as you two looked around.

"hmm...nothing too fast, we don't want to throw up-" choso mumbled, remembering the last ride you two went on.

while you two walked around, one of the game stalls caught your eye. it was one of those games where you had to knock down cups stacked in a pyramid with a baseball. the prizes ranged from little plastic keychains to giant teddy bears.

you tugged on choso's hand, motioning to the stall. "you think you can win me one of the teddy bears?" you asked, a cute smile on your lips.

choso glanced the game over, arriving at the counter. "you get 3 tries. no leaning against the stand, no putting your elbows on the counter. please stand behind the tape line." the person running the stand said.

choso nodded, taking one of the baseballs and standing behind the line. "choso, remember. it's okay if you don't win. i won't be upset." you told him, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

but you could see that he was determined to win you a teddy bear. the biggest one at that. he squinted his eyes a little, taking his aim, and throwing the baseball.

CLANK! the guy running the stand was more shocked than you, standing there with his jaw hanging open as every single cup fell off on the stand.

"we'll take the biggest teddy bear you have." choso requested nonchalantly, the guy still in shock as he got on a ladder to reach the biggest stuffed bear and handing it to you. you gladly took it, giddy laughter leaving you as you spun around with the bear. choso couldn't fight the smile creeping up onto his lips, finding the sight heartwarming.

"what would you like to do now?" choso asked, giving you a gentle pat on the head as you two walked away from the game stands. the sun was starting to set and the perfect idea popped into your head. "hmm...let's go on the ferris wheel!" you exclaimed, pointing to the giant wheel.

you two were now in one of the ferris wheel boxes, the ride slowly starting to lift you two up above the fair grounds. you sat near the window, your nose practically pressed up against it as you gasped in excitement.

"everything's getting so small! choso, look!" you exclaimed, urging your boyfriend to have a look.

"yeah...the view's beautiful..." he murmured, resting his chin on your teddy bear that sat between you two.

"i know, rig-?" you turned back to choso, your cheeks heating up a bit. choso hadn't been looking out the window. he was looking at you.

"you're staring, cho..." you mumbled. now it was his turn to blush, his head burying into the plush softness of the teddy bear. you couldn't help but laugh, a slight grumble leaving him as he looked back up at you.

"it's okay. i like it when you stare at me." you stated, scooting closer to him and taking the bear plush in your hands. you moved its head out of the way, before setting it on the floor of the car.

choso's heart skipped a beat as he noticed you leaning in closer to him, his breath hitching. he let his eyes flutter shut and you stared at him for a moment. he looked so at peace, but also so nervous, obviously expecting a kiss. you decided to mess with him a little, picking up the teddy bear and moving its head closer to him until his lips met faux fur.

choso opened his eyes and sputtered, his cheeks coloring as you burst into a fit of laughter. "y/n..." choso grumbled, fighting the smile that threatened to form on his lips. he looked so cute, sitting there, sulking about not getting a real kiss from you.

you couldn't help it and when he least expected it, you cupped his cheeks and planted a soft and gentle kiss on his lips. a rush of warmth ran through his body as he sighed into it, placing his hands over your own.

"thanks for coming with me today, choso." you hummed, resting your forehead on his as you pulled away from the kiss.

"any time. let's come again tomorrow. i'll win you an even bigger prize."

and to your surprise, that's exactly what he did.🎡

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[airaibunny]

miyeon x reader - “the idea of her” (warnings: fluff, kissing, nudity)

a/n: BLONDE MIYEON APPRECIATION! this is literally an adaptation of a chapter story i had in my notes app😭 i haven’t the slightest clue if miyeon can drive, but pretend she can. i also do not know how gidle’s dorm situation works, once again, just pretend i’m right.

IM SORRY FOR LYING, I KNOW I SAID I WOULD WRITE THE ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ MINA SMUT NEXT, BUT THIS JUST POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND I HAD TO.

anyway, hope you enjoy pooks😭

word count: 1.3k

"y/n."

"y/n!"

"Y/N?!"

you barely register yuqi calling you as you’re zoning out. you’re at a fansign and should be paying attention to the fans, but you just can’t help being completely enraptured with her.

everything from her gorgeous blonde hair to the way her eyes squint when she smiles has you completely smitten. you’ve been in the same group for years and you’ve felt this way from the very beginning. you’re sure nobody can notice how you feel though, or at least you hope so for the sake of your career. if you’re wrong, cho miyeon might be the reason for your untimely expulsion.

"y/n? are you there? we’re leaving." yuqi waves a hand in front of your face and pulls you out of your chair before you can react. you finally notice everyone packing up around you. maybe you zoned out a bit too hard.

"oh, okay." you simply follow yuqi as she pulls your hand and walks you to the car. the entire way there you’re looking around for miyeon, but she’s nowhere to be seen. once you get to the car, yuqi practically throws you inside and you bump into shuhua.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” of course shuhua being shuhua starts yelling and whining at you. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING, YUQI THREW ME!” shuhua shifts her anger towards yuqi, shouting at her instead.

“oh sorry, i didn’t realize i was in your way, BITCH!" she rubs her arm where you bumped into her and then does the same to you. "you’re the bitch, STOP YELLING!" shuhua stops rubbing your arm and fully turns to the passenger seat where yuqi is. “how the fuck are you going to tell me to stop yelling WHILE YOU’RE YELLING?!”

just as shuhua is finishing her sentence, miyeon gets in the drivers seat of the car.

“oh my god, both of you shut up. i can hear you from outside.”

she isn’t even talking to you, but you halt your breathing unconsciously. fuck, how is she so devine? you’re sitting in the backseat opposite to the drivers seat, so you have a perfect view of her.

“minnie and soyeon are driving back in the other car, does anyone want to switch cars to even it out?”

yuqi immediately storms out of the car and slams the door behind her. shuhua scoffs in response. them arguing is normal, you’re sure they’ll be completely fine as soon as you get home.

“now i feel lonely, someone come sit up here.” shuhua doesn’t react, so you’re guessing she doesn’t want to move. you take advantage of the opportunity and go sit bedside miyeon. she smiles when you sit and your eyes widen, she’s just so incredible.

once you’re on the road, you put headphones in and sneakily stare a miyeon every now and then. a few more minutes into the drive, you feel her hand land on your thigh. you tense at the feeling, but continue facing forward. you all have little to no boundaries with each other, miyeon doing this is not new. nevertheless, her touch quickens your heartbeat immensely.

you fiercely wish you could tell her how you feel. she’s never explicitly told you she doesn’t like girls, so a relationship with her is plausible. be that as it may, you have no clue if she likes you.

you finally arrive at the dorms and follow miyeon around while she grabs things from the trunk and walks upstairs. you practically attach yourself to her every chance you get.

you walk through the front door and flop down on the couch, watching as miyeon walks around trying to tidy things up before bed. you don’t realize that you’re dozing off until someone pats your upper back, softly whispering to you.

“hey, let’s go to bed.”

you slightly open your eyes to see miyeon kneeling in front of your face, smiling at you. you stand and she takes your hand, holding it all the way to her room. you’re hesitant to go in because you don’t normally sleep with miyeon, you share a room with shuhua.

“oh, right. yuqi and shuhua are over their little fight as usual so yuqi went to sleep in your room, they kind of kicked you out.”

“oh.”

you try hiding your excitement as you completely walk into the room. this doesn’t happen often, but you love when it does. you delight in falling asleep next to miyeon, even if she’s in a completely different bed.

“oh shit, i didn’t think to grab your pijamas before they fell asleep. you can just wear mine.”

she picks random clothes from her closet and hands them to you. she also picks some for herself and begins undressing. you get extremely flustered. even after all this time changing together for music shows and photo shoots and whatnot, you still can’t handle seeing her naked. when it’s any of the others, you’re not fazed at all, it’s only her.

she finishes changing and looks your way, rolling her eyes. “change! i don’t want you to fall asleep in those clothes.” she walks outside to do something and leaves you alone in the room. you try changing, but fall back on the bed instead. you’re so tired, you start to doze off again.

you fall asleep and awake a few minutes later to miyeon pulling your shirt off. you nearly die in that instant.

holy fuck.

“i told you to change.”

she completely takes your shirt off and throws it aside, turning back to you. her face is centimeters away from yours. so close that one rough move would make your lips touch.

you feel a sudden rush of adrenaline and lean into her without thinking. you immediately pull back, slapping a hand over your lips.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to.”

she’s frozen for a few seconds. you curse yourself as you feel tears forming in your eyes. why would you do that? that was so reckless. what if you just ruined your friendship with her?

“miyeon, i’m so sorry.”

she puts a hand on your cheek, bringing you in for a kiss. you swear you can feel every single thing on your mind fade away. the only feeling you’re aware of in this moment is her lips on yours. they’re warm and soft, just like you imagined.

“don’t apologize.”

she whispers against you lips with a smile. you pull her back in, deepening the kiss. you know it’s cliché, but you wish you could stay here forever. you part her lips with your tongue, gently pushing it inside her mouth. she giggles at your excitement, letting you take control of the kiss.

“how long have you been holding that in?”

she taunts as she pulls away, placing her hand on your thigh. “i don’t know.” she chuckles at you. “wanna know how long i’ve been holding it in?” your cheeks redden at her question. she’s liked you this entire time. why didn’t you do something sooner?!

“a very long time.” she leans in for another quick kiss before completely laying down on the bed. “finish changing and come cuddle with me.” you hop up and tear all of your clothes off, putting on your pijamas as quickly as you can.

“you’re so cute.” you hear her remark as you’re struggling to put your shorts on. as soon as you’re done, you jump back into bed, wrapping around her like a sloth. you plant kisses all over her face as she smiles, you just can’t contain yourself. you can’t fathom that she actually likes you. the girl you’ve been completely whipped for all this time actually likes you.

she pushes your hair out of you face, running her fingers through it.

“miyeon?” you ask while looking into her eyes. “yes?” she responds, still playing with your hair. “what are we now?” she kisses you again, bringing you closer to her chest.

“whatever you want us to be, pretty girl.”

[kamiversee]

that blurb u posted but decided to take out of the chapter literally me giggling, kicking my feet, and rolling around in my bed omfg Kami please YOU KNOWWWWW HOW CHOSO GETS MEEEEEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-☃️

Well if that’s the case, here’s a blurb I deleted from the Christmas chapter…

It was after sex w Choso but he was eager for more, yes things are missing but it’s just a blurb ><

Here’s 1k words of Choso thirsting for you. It’s smut btw, just not finished so you may feel edged in the end :3

“That’s what the fuck I thought,” Choso scoffs and then goes back to what he was doing, parting your legs nice and wide enough for his head to go between them.

Your cunt was already wet again from his moment of being commanding. You didn’t even realize how hot you found that until he pointed it out.

“Damn,” Choso chuckles, “Look at her,” He moves a hand and spreads your folds apart to watch the way your liquids glisten. The tip of his cock leaks at the sight, enough precum flowing out that the male almost thought he was experiencing an orgasm already.

Looking at you made his dick so hard and his mouth was watering like crazy, so much so that he was almost drooling already.

“Choso please don’t talk to my pussy like it’s a person,” You say jokingly.

He bites his lip as he stares at your sex, “I can’t help it, baby. She talks to me so I talk to her.” Choso says before slipping his thumb in between your folds. He doesn’t push it in but instead, collects some of your moisture on his skin, hearing you let out a breath of air, “She’s always so wet f’me… ‘nd soft, ‘nd warm…” He comments.

You release a subtle whine, “S-Stop talking…”

Choso’s thumb slides up to your clit and he applies a little bit of pressure, “Why? She likes it when I talk to her,” He continues.

You bite back any sounds that threaten to come out.

“Look at her,” He murmurs, tipping his head to the side, “You’ miss me, princess?” The way he’s talking makes your body twitch in both embarrassment and arousal, the movement not going unnoticed by Choso, “See? I told you she talks to me.”

“Choso-“ Your voice drowns out when the man moves both of his thumbs to your folds and spreads you apart, quickly pressing his tongue to your wetness. “Mmh… w-wait-“

His tongue swipes up and he presses the muscle down as if to really allow your liquids to simmer on his tongue. Then, he pulls away and sighs, “Y’know, I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet…”

“A-About what?” You whisper, your eyes up on the ceiling as you wonder how you went from thinking about taking a break to here.

Choso takes his hands off you and moves to get off the couch for a minute. “You haven’t noticed something’s missing?” He asked, “Babe, we made out several times already…”

Babe? That’s… new? You ignore it, “Okay…?”

“My feelings are starting to get hurt, y’know…” Choso says with a purposeful pout as he makes his way over to a bag of his. You see him reach into it and then pull out another item, unable to tell exactly what he’s doing due to the lighting.

“I’m confused, what’s missing?” You ask as you start to sit up.

“Don’t move,” Choso voices out. His back is to you so you have no idea how the hell he knew you were repositioning yourself but you freeze and then lay back down, “And now I’m disappointed…”

Your brows furrow, “Cho, just tell me what’s missing?”

You could see his arms moving but you really didn’t know what he was doing. Then, he puts something back into his bag and turns around to you. Choso walks right back over to you and he waits a moment before getting on the couch, simply looking down at you.

You stare up for a moment, glance down at his erection for a moment, a moment longer than intended because his dick is huge, and looking at it distracts you, and then before you even think about looking up, he’s talking.

“Eyes up here, pretty girl,” Choso says.

You glance up and the man then sticks his tongue out. That was when you remembered that cursed piercing of his. The same piercing that’s had you weak all over for quite some time. How could you forget such a thing?

The male closes his mouth and then moves to get on top of you, “Y’know I took it out not too long after I left,” He informs you, “Haven’t put it back in since.” He says, settling in between your legs again.

Your brows furrow, “Why would you-“

His lips press into your cunt abruptly and you let out a breathy sigh. Then, Choso smirks, “Keep talkin’ princess, don’t mind me.”

“I c-can’t talk when you-,” He does it again. This time, his lips part over you and his tongue is slipping in between your folds within seconds, “Fuck…”

There it is, there’s that damn piercing of his tickling you. And it’s fucking cold, contrasting your warmth and making you shudder. Choso licks at your sex a few times before his hands move again. He uses both of his thumbs to spread your folds for a second time and then dives right in.

His tongue smears against your pussy and you can’t help the quiet moan that leaves you. “C-Choso… hah…”

He curls his tongue up as he licks you, forcing your taste into his mouth right before he pulls away to speak, “What? Jus’ give me five minutes…” He grumbles, not even looking up at you as the little taste he got was enough to have him hungry for you, “I missed eating you out so fucking much.” Choso breathes.

You don’t get the chance to respond as his mouth latches onto your cunt again. This time he sucks and slurps your taste into his mouth, gulping loudly and shamelessly as he drinks in your moisture. A groan leaves his throat at the way your taste flows into his mouth and you release a whine.

“Baby…” Choso grunts, “Let me do this til’ you fall asleep.” He requests.

“You said five minutes…”

“I wanna’ eat til’ my jaw locks again.”

Yes, yes he said again. He’s done it before. Three times actually.

“Choso what is up with you? Shouldn’t you be tired?”

He stops for a moment and finally looks up to your eyes, “Baby, let me make you feel good.”

Sorry not sorry for edging y’all w this💀

[hauntingblue]

CAUSE THIS IS THRILLER (bark), THRILLER (bark) NIGHT

Usopp's outfit is so funny for reals

He got the whole squad laughing

Luffy enablers at it again.... (Robin.... I know.....)

The humor panels so far have been so good!!! God this arc is so funny

HE SAID IT‼️‼️

They look like birds 😭😭

It's just too good... luffy taking cerberus and zombies what can't he do

It's just banger after banger what can I say

Franky feeling for other people because of his guilt complex and sanji lying through his teeth and pulling out the women excuse to seem unaffected... yeah

Look at them.... look how they ate

Omg joyboy reference?? (No)

Sanji is rubbing off on usopp.... also chopper noticing that is sogeking's weapon akdhaksjak

ANOTHER SLAY!!!!!

Their priorities: I'm not strong enough, there isn't enough food, and nami isn't here

Franky going from wanting to kill brook for his jokes to making a joke like his after he hears his backstory... exactly (Robin was already enabling him before the backstory even fdagjsfha)

Sanji is altering his body and actually being on fire to communicate to us how fucking mad he is..... I need more of him going insane I do I do

My god what is he doing ALDJALAJALA

AHSAHAHQHAH THEY ARE THE SAME!!! naaah sanji wouldn't force a woman to be his wife

You cant see me but I am nodding my head in agreement over and over

You don't understand he altered his body to communicate to us how mad he is. He inploded himself and then reconstituted again. Those germa 66 genes are insane

You tell em usopp!!!! The first of many girls you've scared into defeat!!! Akdjqknql

Zoro zombie regressed to not trusting robin akdjaks he's still in there

ROBI-CHO SUPLEX??? HELL YEAAAAAH

There is zosa- [GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT]

Super frapper gong.... he is doing combo shots with frobin... omg.... parents....

Everything is so fun I'm having such a good time reading.... and then zosan angst like damn I am being fed well here

[hunterbunter3000]

ok so I've had this in my memory for ages and i can so imagine Sweetheart having this as a tattoo on her back, like the angel wings tattoos that are the complete length of your back so and the crescent on her neck like oml like its barely visible from under her shirts and it just makes her neck look that much more delectable plus the contrast from the womb tattoo to the angel like wings is a sight to see, makes the boys go feral (especially soap once he sees it, he didn't notice before cuz he was too short lol)

IM GOING FERALLLLL

THIS IS AMAZING FOR SWEETS HOLY COW

The original idea was that she was going to have two pieces, high and low tattoos, the low one was something like this:

But then I scrapped that, and she was just gonna have a regular back tattoo (like a big one or one in the middle of her back), and it was gonna be something like this:

B U T that changed and the new idea was that the back tattoo was traveling on her body, like coming to her collarbone and neck, and coming down her arms (which is talked about in the 18+ Gaz ask), something like this:

BUT GOOODDDDDD YOURS IS SO SICK GREMLIN

Like I can see her getting it because a friend told her that it'll look so cool, not telling her what it means. (As you said, it looks like angel wings) and then that friend dies, not telling her the meaning. (Her friend told her to get it because Sweetheart is like an angel)

Sfw

(Just kinda sensual teehee)

Cw.: biblical talk (angels), so much praise, overstimulation (sweets cries), bit of angst and feels, (idk if this counts as angst? I'm still learning what's angst and what's not😭) soap is so down bad he's speaking in Scottish Gaelic-- it's translated by Google so I'm sorry beforehand! He talks so damn much, I went overboard 💀 the translation is at the end!

So skip ahead to the now, she's taking care of some wounds she got from a mission, with her shirt off and hair down, wrapping her ankle with concentrated eyes. She doesn't hear Soap knock on her door, and she doesn't hear his little gasp. She also doesn't hear him walk slowly towards her, but she does feel thick, warm fingers move some of her hair and trail down her back. She jolts, turning around abruptly. Her tense shoulders relax, seeing it's only her best friend.

She needs to be more vigilant.

"Jeez, Soap," She chuckles, "You scared me."

His eyes are wide, skin flushed with pink and breaths uneven.

"Tha mi duilich..." he mutters breathlessly. Sweetheart cocks an eyebrow. "Whatcha say?" Soap sucks in a breath and closes his eyes tightly. It's like he's telling himself something.

"Sorry, I'm - I said I'm sorry." Sweetheart nods, "Oh, that's cool! Is that like- Gaelic or somethin'?" Soap nods as if he's in a trance, eyes still focused on her back. Her glowing, hunched over back with the mark of an angel. It has to be. Different scars align on her skin, some in different lengths, some overlapping others, and many that are jagged.

But the beauty of the tattoo is still relevant.

Sweetheart calls out his name softly to get his attention but fails. His mind is hazy, and too many thoughts going through him. The waves of heat pulse on his skin and insides as he gets closer to her back.

Sweetheart doesn't feel comfortable, but she doesn't feel uncomfortable at the same time. She sees him get on his knees and reaches out for her, but freezes. He turns his head and shuts his eyes again, having mental turmoil with his actions. He stares into her eyes, asking her if he can touch it. Feel it.

Admire it.

Her eyes flutter, looking back at him one last time, she shifts her hair to one side, combing the curls with her hand, showing more of the tattoo that goes up to the nape of her neck and around her shoulders. Her actions speak a million words to him.

You can touch it. But please, be gentle.

She hears him whine- whine-- and his palms are clamping on her back immediately.

"Tha e cho breagha. Fuck, bidh thu mar bhàs dhomh, leanabh." His hand slides around to her tummy, tracing the heart to her womb tattoo since he remembers where it's located, engraved- burned-- into his memory. "Ach bheir thu air ais beò mi le seo," His voice is but a whisper over her back, the woman confused if he's talking to her or the tattoo. She feels plush lips where the blade is located. Oh god--

He's kissing it.

Sweetheart shivers, a whiny moan bubbling in her throat, but she covers her mouth with her shaky hand. She hears him mumble Gaelic again, but it doesn't feel like he's talking bad about it. It feels good, warm. Like he's praising it.

Worshipping it.

His other hand feels her skin all over her side, up her back till he reaches her shoulder. "Bha fios agam gu robh thu a 'falach rudeigin fo na turtlenecks sin, brèagha. Bha an corp seo an-còmhnaidh a’ falach rudeigin. Air do ghualainn," His fingers trail on the lines of the angel-like wings, "Air do ghualainn," They snake upwards and around, the pads feeling the bumps of scars and the outline of ink. "Suas do mhuineal."

Sweetheart whimpers, shivering under his touch. Her shoulders cave in, and she bends more forward. She feels his lips trail up her heated skin, wet with love and praise from the scotsman. She knew he loved her tattoos that she showed him, but she never thought he would do something like this.

Did he really like them that much? Did he really like her that much?

Soaps breath shudders on the halo, feeling her goosebumps form and hairs sticking up, hands raking up and down the spiked angel wings.

"Tha mi a’ guidhe nach do dh’fhalaich thu uam, a ghràidh. Tha gaol agam oirbh uile, agus chan atharraich sin gu bràth."

"I'm- I'm sorry...?" Why is she apologizing? She felt like she needed to apologize for something she did but didn't understand what he said. She was going to speak again, but the gentle lull of his shushing in her ear stopped her.

"Òr 's a tha mise air do chràdh agus an dubh a tha air do chorp naomh. Tha am peant dubh maireannach a th’ agad a’ toirt ort coimhead ethereal. Fuck, chan eil fhios agam carson a tha thu a’ còmhdach seo. Bidh thu a’ faighinn cho togarrach rium a h-uile uair a thig thu faisg orm, agus a bhith faicinn an ealain a th’ agad air do bhodhaig na urram ann fhèin. Tha do bhòidhchead tarraingeach, aingil. Chan eil fios agad dè an ìre de chumhachd a tha agad thairis air na fir a tha a 'coiseachd air an talamh seo."

If he keeps going, she's gonna pass out at this rate.

His growly, Scottish drawl always made Sweetheart heat up and melt. But this - this carnal, whispering preaching onto her skin - it's too much, overflowing her cup to the point that it spills all over the floor.

"Mar a chuirinn seachad mo làithean uile ag innse dhut mar a tha thu mar thiodhlac bho na nèamhan. Cha bhithinn leisg a dhol air mo ghlùinean agus mo dhìlseachd gu lèir a thoirt dhut a h-uile latha." He mumbles, lips talking against her skin like he's muttering scriptures to the ink.

With his blue eyes half-lidded, his hands slide down her shoulder blades and back up, his touch so gentle like feathers and silk, down to the small of her back, where the blade ends.

"Tha mi a’ guidhe nach do dh’fhalaich thu uam, a ghràidh. Tha gaol agam oirbh uile, agus chan atharraich sin gu bràth."

"Johnny..." Sweetheart calls out, mysterious want laced in her voice. She doesn't know why he acts like her tattoos are sacred. She doesn't know why she feels tears forming. Her eyes flutter back when his thumbs massage her hips.

He hums, "An ann air sgàth sin a fhuair thu seo? A chionn gu bheil thu bho na nèamhan? Tha e ciallach nam biodh tu. Archangel, a 'stiùireadh shaighdearan gu cogadh le do bhall-airm, ceannardas, agus làmh an uachdair."

Her breath hitches. Archangel?

Why did he say that?

He thinks she's an angel? One of the heavenly hosts, a dispenser of justice and bringer of hope.

Oh my God.

If he thinks that she's like an archangel, then that's the best compliment she has ever gotten.

She feels tears coming down her cheeks, the heavy feeling in her head and warmth coursing through her veins. She remembers when her old high school friend from home told her to get this piece as a tattoo since she had trouble figuring out what to get. She was so excited, kept asking her every day what it meant or what significance it had with Sweetheart, but all she kept saying was, "You'll figure it out."

Sweetheart asked sporadically when her friend was in the hospital. Her answer was always the same.

Sweetheart stopped asking completely when her friend was buried next to her family. She didn't give an answer anymore.

She covers her mouth again to stop a choked sob, tears streaming down her face.

Her friend knew.

"Fiù 's nuair a tha thu air do dhòrtadh ann am fuil an nàmhaid, tha thu fhathast a' seasamh àrd ann an neart, misneachail, nad ghlòir gu lèir. A ’coimhead thairis air a h-uile duine, a’ cuideachadh neach sam bith ann an fheum leis a ’ghàire radanta sin."

Soap knows.

"Ged nach fhaicear do sgiathan, bidh iad fhathast a 'deàrrsadh fon t-solas a tha a' gluasad bho do shàil. An dòchas agus an gaol a bheir thu do dhaoine ... bheir e orm tuiteam air do shon eadhon nas motha a h-uile uair."

And now Sweetheart knows.

He kisses her shoulders, neck, and spine- all the way down to the tip of the blade. He could kiss this skin forever, hearing her soft moans and whimpers. Soap hears her little hiccups and moves to face her. He tenderly cups her jaw and slowly lifts, seeing her big, glistening eyes look up at him. Her damp cheeks, creased eyebrows, and wobbling bottom lip melts his heart. He looks at her with such fondness and love in his eyes, Sweetheart is sure that she will pass away. He brushes her hair out of her face as if she's made out of the finest china.

"Oh, mo ghràidh, mo leannan."

He cranes his neck down, soft swollen lips meeting her forehead. Sweetheart's eyes close, clumped with tears, leaning into his kiss and clutching his hand.

"Mo aingeal dìon."

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

Translation:

It's so beautiful. Fuck, you'll be the death of me, baby. But you'll bring me back to life with this. I knew you were hiding something under those turtlenecks, beautiful. This body was always hiding something. On your shoulders... Up your neck. I wish you didn't hide from me, my love. I love you all, and that will never change.

You have nothing to apologize for, my darling, my heart. Words can not describe how much I ache for you and the ink that's on your holy body. The black permanent paint you have makes you look ethereal. Fuck, I don't know why you cover this. You get me so excited every time you come near me, and to see the art you have on your body is an honor in itself. Your beauty is alluring, angelic. You don't know how much power you hold over the men that walk this earth.

How I would spend all my days telling you how you're a gift from the heavens. I would not hesitate to get on my knees and give my devotion to you every day.

Hmm, is that why you got this? Because you're from the heavens? It makes sense if you were. An archangel, guiding soldiers into war with your weapon, leadership, and dominant hand.

Even when drenched in the enemy's blood, you still stand tall in strength, confident, in all your pretty glory. Watching over everyone, helping anyone in need with that radiant smile.

Even though your wings are not seen, they still shine under the light that radiates from your halo. The hope and love you give people... it makes me fall for you even more every time.

My dear, my sweetheart.

My guardian angel.

Bonus.!

Bruh, I totally blocked out the others HAHA

They haven't seen it yet, but Soap boasts about it 24/7. He described it the best he can without giving anything away. But he talks consistently that he saw it and he touched it and-- other stuff.

He doesn't tell his team that he practically went to church on her back tattoo, but he sees how jealous they got so that's good enough for him. Thank God Krueger doesn't know.

[sexy-mok]

Caps from zophantom's video (here)

[abraincellandahalf]

Rate My Favs

Challenge: make a poll of your fave characters of all time, then tag five people to do the same.

Thank you for the tag @penna-nomen

This is going to be interesting, I have too many, so I'll just do my favourite men for now, and maybe do another one for my favourite women?

There are so many more I want to add but had to eliminate because I can only add 12 options 😭 have fun y'all. (No Doctors on here because they're all my pookies, and they're canonically gender fluid.)

[waloeders]

okay fine. sdv au for the jjks. as a treat. they all move there to escape. fuck curses

[ratsoh-writes]

A NEW MEMBER HAS JOIND YOUR CLUT!!

and yes I am that anon who asked you what hair color I should dye my hair

And i dont know why i decided to ask you 1 hour before my appointment like i already discussed about with myself and friends but to be honest I just wanted to send you something ANYTHING(ok this just made me realize that i am the worst at beginning new relationship...)

I asked my friend to choose between blue or purple, and she chose blue and as a good friend I dyed my hair purple—PURPLE :D (tbh was already planning to dye it that color BUT i just wanted to see which color she’d choose—same thing with you (i am not sorry))

Also you just made me realize I have never dyed my hair a natural color before... but tbh I was considering dyeing my hair brown in the future maybe after a few months when I get bored with my current hair color.

Also.. Ahem.... ahem...again i am realy disappointed in myself bc I was about to make stupid decision by LITERALLY dyieing my hair ORANGE, and no, I’m not talking about something like ginger hair.. I was about to dye my hair AN OBNOXIOUS SHADE OF ORANGE. Thanks to God my mom smacked some sense into me before it was too late. (OK i gotta be honest there is something attractive about bright colors they just grab my attention easily and orange is one of my favourite color soo🤷‍♀️)

Aside from that, I felt and still feel kind of shitty for not introducing myself or even saying "hi" in my previous ask, so hii! Even though it’s kind of late.

Also congratulations to myself for finally picking up the courage to send you whatvere is this not that I’m shy or anything it’s just my usual ✨️procrastinating self✨️ I have been following you for quite a long time. ok maybe not that long BUT I’ve been following you since April I think still call it long though because I’ve been fighting with myself for months about texting you, sending you something, or even just saying hi, until I randomly popped up out of nowhere and decided to ask you what hair color I should dye my hair

Also there is something important that i want to say and NEED to say... ahem, ahem... I ADORE the way you portray your characters especially papyrus definitely not because he is not so clearly my favorite skele

I also realized that i also say also a lot. ALSO Since I’m going to send you random stuff occasionally hope you are ready for that and since i am going to stick with being an anon for a while if not forever I should cho

And wow I just realized I wrote a whole paragraph that i had to delete some parts of the text to not make it long. But it isn't my fault that I talk alot. still tho i feel bad for you for reading all of this especially with how bad my english is (I am sure you already definitely could english tell is my second already language)

OK so back to the name.... tbh I don't trust myself with names sooo.....

.......

......

.....

....

...

..

.

-hehe fart💨

Sjdhdhdhdhd anon you’re a perfect fit! We’re all welcoming you with open arms~ but please not fart anon 😭😭. What about gust? Cloud? Smoke?

Also are you the one asking about noir?

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

ik it was posted ages ago but…

pt4, Nat and y/n telling the team and they’re all like: “yeah we knew” and y/n and nat have dumbstruck faces bc they thought they were sneaky. Steve is like, “I was in between the two of you playing footsies that one time at dinner. I know I’m old but I know what footsies means” and everyone is saying how they already knew😭 Only Bruce didn’t know…bc he’s always locked in his lab, would be funny if Bruce didn’t even know about Nat’s not so little friend. Or none of them knowing and asking how y/n and Nat decided to get pregnant. Like them asking if it was bone marrow or a donor, yk? I can imagine all their faces when Nat says she’s got a D. Maybe y/n has had a few one night stands w some guys on the team and let’s it slip that it’s the “biggest one i’ve ever seen. Hurt like a mf” and they all start to feel insecure and she can tell so she follows up with, “but, side isn’t what matters. It’s not important:)” and winks at Nat like, ‘oh it’s definitely important’

Authors note: I combined this first request with @inluvwithfictionalwomen request and added a sprinkle of angst before the fluff, hope you all enjoy 💖

Word count: 2864       Nat Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist      Part 1, 2, 3

  You walk into the conference room before Natasha and offer Steve and Tony a small wave that Steve reciprocates while Tony offers up a smile. You notice that neither man seems to find Nat's presence here odd, but maybe they just figured you’d brought her with you to give yourself support for whatever medical information you had to inform them of, they offer her a smile as well.

   “Hey Y/n, Nat” Tony greets as the two of you take your seats at the table, “Bruce says you have something to inform us of?”

   You nod nervously taking your bottom lip between your teeth, “Uh, yeah”

   Natasha can sense the shift in your demeanor and instantly reaches out to grab your hand. You thank her with a soft smile and a tight squeeze of her hand before your attention focuses back onto the team's leaders.

   “Is everything alright?” Steve asks, also sensing the change in atmosphere

   “Everythings perfect” you reply, causing your girlfriend to smile brightly, “I’m pregnant”

   Steve smiles, “Congratulations you guys!” 

   “I knew it!” Tony exclaims

   “Wait”, you question, “You…you guys knew?”

   “Yeah we knew.” Tony admits, admiring the dumbstruck look on Natashas face. No doubt the spy thought the two of you had been sneaky.

   Steve simply shrugs, “I was in between the two of you playing footsies that one time at dinner. I know I’m old but I know what footsies means.”

   Nats brows furrow as she sputters to get clarification, “But that doesn’t explain, I mean, do you- do you know about my…my uh.."

   Tony smirks at her, “Yes Nat, we knew about the friend in your pants”

   “I thought only Fury and Dr. Cho knew.” she mumbles softly, letting her eyes fall to the ground and you soothe her anxieties by grabbing her hand

   “We didn’t mean to find out Nat. It’s not like we went looking for that type of information” Steve assures her, “We accidently found out when Dr. Cho called us in her office to update us on your injuries after that explosion a few months ago.”

   “Your ct scans were on the light board behind her. It was an easy thing to spot.” Tony says with a shrug, unknowingly boosting her ego slightly

   “We don’t think any different of you, if that's what you're worried about.” Steve says as she stays silent

   Tony nods in agreement, “Yeah, you're still the same Russian super spy to us. So what if you're packing more than guns and have an extra weapon underneath your belt.” Steve quickly gives him a look of displeasure though, “Too much?��

   “Little bit.” 

  Natasha smiles shyly as a blush covers her cheeks and abandons holding your hand in favor of wrapping her arm around your waist instead, “Thanks guys”

   “Of course Nat. Now what do the two of you want done?” the soldier asks

   “She’ll need to be put on pregnancy leave immediately.” Natasha tells the two men before continuing, “And I’ll need to be put on less missions. Priority only. I need to be here for them.”

   “When will either of you be coming back?” Tony asks

   “Not sure. Probably not until the baby is a toddler, unless I’m absolutely needed of course.”

   “I’m also not sure.” Nat responds, “I want to be there for all the baby's firsts. Steps, words, everything.” 

   Steve nods, “I’ll let Fury know. I doubt he’ll be happy about losing two Avengers for an undetermined amount of time.”

   “But he’ll get over it.” Tony adds with a smile, “You two deserve to do what's best for you, and of course the baby”

   Natasha smiles wide and places a quick kiss against your cheek, “Are you guys done with us then?”

   Steve nods, “Yes, but don’t go far. The takeout Tony ordered for everyone should be here by now.”

   “Come on!” Tony exclaims, “Let's go eat!”

   The four of you head out of the conference room and make your way to the dining room, where all the other heroes that aren’t currently out on missions are gathered. Everyone is busy plating their food until the four of you enter and take your seats, then everyone's eyes are on you. 

   Wanda is the first to speak up, “Everything alright Y/n?” 

   “Yeah, you ok?” Bucky adds, “Bruce mentioned you had some important medical stuff to discuss with Steve.”

   You feel a hand on your thigh and you glance at your girlfriend, giving her a smile, “Yeah guys, everythings fine. Better than fine really. I’m pregnant.”

   Your team members all erupt in cheers as they congratulate you, and Steve and Tony smile once more at the news. You notice the hand on your thigh tighten its grip, and you guess it's in anticipation and nervousness for the question that's sure to come.

   “So, who's the lucky guy that's soon to be daddy?” Sam asks with a grin

   “Natasha.” you answer with a smirk, causing her to beam with pride

   Wanda isn’t surprised by this news. Your thoughts for the Russian and her thoughts for you are quite loud afterall. Clint isn’t surprised either, he caught on pretty quick to his best friend's change of behavior and pulled the info from her. Everyone else, minus the two team leaders of course, are surprised by this though. Especially Bruce.

   His fork clatters against the table, and his hand shakes slightly as he tries his best to not to glare at you in sheer contempt. He's also trying his best not to let the big guy have control at the dinner table. 

   You don’t even notice his behavior, too busy staring at the food on your plate in order to avoid everyone's gazes that you fear may hold judgment. Nat fails to notice him too, she's too busy keeping an eye on you to make sure you're not too anxious or stressed. Tony and Steve do notice though, and they were honestly afraid of his reaction. They're grateful he seems to be in control of his other self. For now at least.

  “Oh shit, uh sorry Nat.” Sam apologizes, scratching the back of his neck “Guess that’ll teach me to just assume things. Heh.”

  “So did you guys use a donor or have Nats bone marrow fertilize your eggs?” Hope asks, and Sam sends her a look of gratitude for getting the spotlight off of him

   Tony and Steve share a knowing look, that they realize Wanda sends their way as well. They suppose that shouldn’t surprise them. She likely found out when she entered Nats mind back when she was with Ultron or due to one of the redhead's loud thoughts, or even one of yours.

   Nat shakes her head, “Neither. It’s a natural conception”

   “Bullshit” 

   “Excuse me?” your girlfriend challenges, glaring at the scientist

   “Oh come on Natasha!” he exclaims, “We all know you're not equipped to get anyone pregnant! It's obvious Y/ns just been screwing around with some guy behind your back!”

  “What the fuck did you just say?!” she nearly shouts, “Y/n would never cheat on me, how dare you insinuate such a thing! I love her and she loves me! This is my baby!”

   You glare at the bitter brainiac, “And I’ll have you know that Tasha is very equipped for it, Banner. I’ve not seen yours, but I figure the Hulk must compensate for something so I can easily hazard a guess and say that she's bigger than you.”

   Clint nearly chokes on a piece of beef at the revelation. Apparently there were some things his best friend kept from him, and if he had to guess something she had been hiding, well a dick wouldn't have even made the list. Wanda starts patting his back as he hacks and coughs violently, a futile attempt to soothe his throat.

   Bruce shakes off his initial shock at your revelation, and does his best to ignore your dig at him before the anger fueled by perceived betrayal returns, “Are you being serious right now?! You're telling me that Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow and femme fatale of the team, has had a penis this whole time?”

   His fury is abundantly clear, and it's only now that Natasha finally sees the man's truest intentions. He had obviously read far too much into her ability to calm the Hulk down, and had developed feelings for her along the way. In his infatuation with her he failed to notice that she didn’t return these feelings, instead projecting his own onto her.

   “Yes Bruce. Not that it’s any of your business, but yes I have a penis.” she spits at the man, clearly agitated by his behavior

   “And you didn’t think that was something we all needed to know?”

   She looks at him in disgust, “Why would I need to announce what's in my pants?”

   He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, “Because Natasha! You flirted with me, and came onto me almost every time we were alone on a mission!”

   “You really think that's what that was?” She laughs, “I wasn’t flirting with you moron! I was doing my job. Whatever I said to you was done to either keep our cover during an op, or to calm the Hulk down after a fight.”

 “You really expect me to believe that?!” he sneers

   Natasha can feel the way you tense beside her, ready to defend her with your words or fists no doubt. Normally she would find that endearing, but when the man you're getting ready to go up against can turn into a giant green raging beast when angered, it's best not to tempt fate and attack him. Especially when pregnant. Her hand moves further up your thigh and she squeezes it gently, moving her thumb in soothing circles to both calm you and show you that she's ok. Bruce can say whatever he likes, because at the end of the day she knows that's not how anything happened between the two of them, and she knows you know that too. She knows you don’t think like he does about her body either. She knows you love her.

    Before he can express further contempt she answers him, “I don’t care what you believe Banner. The truth is that there was never anything going on between us, nor would there ever have been. I know that and so does Y/n. Whatever delusional fantasies you dreamed up were all your own.”

  “You really are a double agent aren't you?” he scoffs, “Leading me on by being this perfect drop dead gorgeous flirt only to be fucking Y/n with your- ”

   “That's more than enough Bruce!” you growl as your cutlery slams against the table. 

   Bruce smirks grimly, and as the man goes to stand to tower over you the rest of the team are on their feet. Wanda's hands are illuminated red, Tonys are now covered by his armor with repulsors at the ready. Sam, Hope and Steve have their fists ready to dish out blows, and Bucky flexes his metal arm while Natasha has her widow's bites ready to fire. And then there's Clint. Still coughing he grabs a breadstick and wields it as if it were a nightstick instead.

  Though the man is obviously struggling for air and is a bit confused, it warms Nat's heart to see her best friend so ready to defend her and the woman she loves. Even if he was only defending them with baked goods. 

   But Bruce doesn't seem bothered by everyone standing up against him. He continues to stare at you, trying his best to look intimidating. Deciding you aren't afraid of him you stand, causing a dangerous flash of green to be seen in his eyes.

   “I swear to god, if you even try to hurt her, in this form or your other, I will make you suffer.” your girlfriend warns him as she steps protectively in front of you

   Bruce then takes a second glance around the table and decides not to push his luck. He takes a deep breath before turning around and stalking off towards his lab, where he’ll no doubt hold up until he’s done mourning over his imaginary love lost.

   Once he disappears out of sight everyone visibly relaxes, letting their weapons, hands, and breadsticks fall to their sides once more. As a few of them move to take their seats once more, Natasha turns to you and cups your face.

   “Are you ok?” you nod in answer and she looks to the two men on the other side of the table, “I’m taking Y/n to my room, I expect something to be done about him.”

   Tony's eyes meet hers, “Don’t worry, I’ll be calling Ross about him. We can’t have him around here if he’s ready to fly off the handle like that at you or Y/n whenever he's given the opportunity.”

    She nods as she grabs a few of the take out containers for the two of you, “Thanks Tony. And thank you everyone for looking out for Y/n. It means a lot that you guys have our backs.”

   As soon as you're both back in her room she quickly sets the food down on her bedside table before cupping your face with her hands. You can see a storm of multiple emotions in her eyes as she looks you over, and you watch in worry as tears begin to build in her eyes.

   “Tasha, I’m ok”, you tell her, softly reassuring her

    “I know, I know. I just- if the Hulk had hurt the two of you…”

   “But he didn’t, baby.” you tell her, placing one of your hands on hers over your cheek while bringing the other to guide her hand to your stomach, “We’re right here with you, and we’re both alright.”

   She nods before wrapping her strong arms around you in a tight embrace. She buries her head against your neck as your arms return her embrace and hold her tightly against you.

   “I love you so much, and if Banner's delusional ass ever does something like that again, then I’ll figure out just how indestructible Hulk really is. No one threatens my family.”

   “I love you too Tasha” you reply, resting your head on her shoulder, “You're going to be such an amazing mom.”

   Your words cause her to tighten her hold on you and a few tears land against your neck, “You really think so?”

   You pull away from her and cup her face this time, “I know so. Just look how protective you are. And you love so strongly and fiercely. Not to mention how you take care of me and spoil me.”

   Smiles spread across both your faces as she chuckled, “Of course I spoil you detka(baby), you’re the most important person to me.”

   You press a gentle but meaningful kiss against her lips, “You’re the most important person to me too, at least until our little one arrives. Then I think it’ll be a tie.”

   “Oh it will absolutely be a tie for me then. My girl and a mini version of her” Nat says with a sparkle in her eyes

   “Oh?” you exclaim with a laugh, “And what makes you think we won’t get a little you running around, hmm?”

   Her eyes light up even more at that, “You’d be ok with a mini me?”

   “Hmm, let me think….a mini redhead that's adorable in every sense of the word with sparkling green eyes, a heart of gold and a sense of adventure?” you say, stroking your chin in pretend thought as you pause dramatically, “Yeah I think I’d be ok with that”

   She smirks at you, taking you in her arms once more before playfully hopping onto the bed. You giggle, burying your face into her neck affectionately as she holds you against her, peppering kisses against the side of your head. You allow her to continue showering you in affection for a few more minutes before you reluctantly pull away.

   “Much as I love cuddling with you, I’m starving.” you tell her, untangling yourself from her lap as you grab the tv remote, “What Bond movie are we feeling tonight, baby?”

   Natasha hums in thought as she reaches for the takeout containers beside her, “How about ‘You Only Live Twice’?”

   “Sure thing Tasha” you tell her, clicking play on the title before taking one of the containers of food from her 

   Despite having seen this movie several times by now your eyes are glued to the screen, and Natasha takes this moment to steal a glance at you. She can’t believe how lucky she is to be able to call you hers, and now she's even more lucky because you're carrying her child. With you, she has everything the Red Room told her she never would. Love, family, truly she does have a place in this world with you beside her and she couldn’t be happier. She can’t wait to see your belly grow, can’t wait to meet her baby and spoil the two of you for the rest of your lives. She can’t wait for everything the future holds for her little family.

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight

[blackraged]

MORTAL KOMBAT 1 Thoughts Pt3.

[❌❌xontains SPOILERS ❌❌]

The final thoughts on the game as it's coming to an end. This was a ride!

Chapter 11

You go king. Show Sindel horrors beyond comprehension

Oohh, I love the incorporated acknowledgement of the plot from MK11 here.

Liu Kang is so humble, it makes him such a good character?? I was so scared he'd become too nice to handle, but they managed to balance him so well.

This existential anomalies concept is giving ATSV vibes.

D-did Nitara just straight up hiss at Sindel,, LOL

It literally warms my heart to see Sindel, Kitana and Mileena being a loving family. So far honestly the best decision by NRS.

Chapter 12

Lesbians

I'm in tears about this family reunion. I wonder if Jerrod is now fully in charge of the created Ermac body, or if this will be a "fight for the control of the mind and body" kinda trope.

Sindel dies after all, what???? That's not fair,, we had just gotten good Empress Sindel😭😭😭 at least she is within Jerrod now

Where did they leave Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny, Kenshi and Syzoth in all of this?? Homeboys are literally missing out on all the drama.

This really is turning into ATSV, does that mean we get to see other reoccurring characters too??

Chapter 13

I know I said this before, but Liu Kang Geras' friendship means so much to me. He really be looking out for his friend qwq

"Dark doubles" now this one is a little confusing. Are those the dark doubles from MK11 which means Scorpion would still be Hanzo Hasashi, or did Shang Tsung recreate the Universe to the exact same as Liu Kang has, except made everyone follow him?

Was that an Armageddon reference 👀👀

Never in a lifetime would I have thought that Raiden, Shang Tsung and Quan Chi would become a fun trio.

Shang is way too baby girl, it's making me low-key uncomfortable. It feels so wrong.

Dark Shao Khan looks so silly, while Dark Reiko is serving c0nt

Chapter 14

I don't like how this chapter is called Time of Death and it starts with Liu Kang in the scene.

KITANA????? KITANA WAS A TITAN???? So ALL of the Tower Endings were real?? AND canon???

"You were my Liu Kang" btch I'm bawling

Yo, everyone's Dark Timeline look is absolutely stunning.

I'm such a fan of Liu Kang kicking Nitara.

These fights are so cool but visually so confusing. I never know where to look.

Chapter 15

THERE IS A FEMALE JOHNNY LMAO

Ohno, I don't like this "select your final warrior" option.

Not Quan Chi waking down like a Hell Priest

Wait BLACK DRAGON SONYA??

John Kahner......I would have loved you see that timeline.

I appreciate the various Easter Eggs put into game, but I hate (I'm being dramatic) the character mashups like Scorp Lao, John Kahner, Stung Lao, Frostbite, Quantum Chi,

The various Johnny's are killing me. Especially Mime Johnny. We need a spin off with all the Johnnys.

HOLD ON A FREAKING SECOND. CASSIE, JACQUI, TAKEDA AND KUNG JIN??? AYOO??

I think the new Era Shang Tsung is pretty redeemable.

These final fights are a little stressful ngl.

I-what....what just happened. Is it like just over over l. Was this a snap shot to another time line? Am I missing something? Is it over just like that?

I called it. I knew it was the damn Shirai Ryu.

Weird thought, but is Madame Bo the alt version to Bo Rai Cho by chance?

"Changed the Arcs of our lives" very sweet double meaning, but I feel like it has a secret third meaning, and I'm unsure if I like it. I'm sure there is something coming to sting.

Conclusion of the game;

THAT'S IT?? THAT'S FCKING ALL?? Why does this feel like the end of the entire franchise??? I know the title being MK1 implies that there WILL be future installments. But this very much felt like the end of a Saga, and it is really pulling the strings of my heart.

I have so many questions still. What's next to come? What does the end of this now mean for the entire MK universe? What will they do to Shang Tsung? Will Titan Kitana be back? What about all other Characters that have become Titans? Will we see other returning characters from previous games in the future? Is there even room for new conflicts??

But overall, I loved it so much. It was absolutely worth the wait, I sincerely hope that there will be more in the future and that we didn't have to say goodbye.

NRS have really outdone themselves. Each MK game just kept becoming cooler and cooler, with MK1 now completely putting me in awe with the story, animation, designs, effects etc I am honestly not sure how they're gonna top that for the next games.

I do have to say though, that while I don't agree with some of the changes done to the story and characters, I think my favourite thing in this "reboot" is that they made Kitana and Mileena ACTUAL twin sisters.

Some characters seem also a lot more interesting now too. I'm specifically thinking Kung Lao, Raiden, Smoke and Mileena (Please don't come at me. I know how everyone was literally all over her, but I simply wasn't a fan. That has changed now obviously).

Though while I really really REALLY adored Reptile in this game, I do wish they would have kept the original Saurian Lore, - or at least part of it. In my mind it would have made more sense for the Human look.

This game was intense, interesting, captivating, funny, and tearjerking. I am still so amazed, but also feel now that void in my chest. I'm not sure how things will go from now on, but MK will continue to remain one of my fave games ever.

This really was a ride y'all.