#serrauthor replies

[svt-writers-club]

CAT CAFE!AU WONHUI'S PURR-FECT DATE! PLEASE AND THANK YOU~ 🖤

i would absolutely love to write their perfect date! i’m sorry it took me this long to get around to this, but i am literally a Hot Mess™ and i just have to apologise for that.

Wonwoo is pretty sure he’s going to vomit out of sheer nerves. He did it once in high school, right before he had a public speaking thing. Honestly, it’s a miracle Wonwoo is a physics teacher when he absolutely hates making his opinion known to large groups of people. Maybe it’s because his students hardly register as people. High schoolers are kinds their own kind of species, right?

Damn it. Wonwoo really wishes he could talk to someone right now. He desperately needs some advice.

He self-consciously smooths down the button-up he wears to work. He’d been wearing a tie – dark blue with physics equations scribble all over it in white lines  but it was a little nerdy for even him, so he removed it before he even got to the cafe. Wonwoo checks his jeans; at least they’re not horribly stained. They’re even a clean pair.

Wonwoo feels himself sweat. At least his button-up is black.

It’s just dinner. What could go wrong?

Everything, Wonwoo decides nervously. Literally everything could go wrong.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo yelps, jumping in his seat. His eyes are hilariously wide behind his round glasses, but he can’t help it. Seungcheol damn near gave him a heart attack.

Wonwoo likes Seungcheol enough. He’s a nice guy, who takes in all kinds of cats if he can. More than half the cats in Catstronomy are strays, after all. He also runs adoption drives sometimes.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. Wonwoo is starting to realise that maybe he does that thing where he’s so in his head that he’s just staring, instead of answering the question.

“I’m... fine,” Wonwoo says with a weak smile.

Seungcheol is understandably unconvinced. “I don’t recall you looking three seconds away from puking when you’re ‘fine’.” He even does the stupid air quotes. When Seungcheol smiles, it’s sharp. “If you play with Junhui’s feelings, I will gut you and feed your entrails to the cats. Or worse.” He pauses dramatically, making sure to keep eye contact with Wonwoo. “I’ll sic Jihoon on you.”

Wonwoo’s face drains of colour. He’s seen Jihoon hoist Fluffy – the fattest Persian cat that’s almost as much fat as he is fluff – with one hand and not break out a sweat. Everyone else at least is red-faced after hefting that monster of a cat. Jihoon could literally pound him into a pulp, and it’s not a secret that Junhui is his favourite person in the cafe (after Seungcheol, of course).

“I really like Junhui,” Wonwoo blurts out. His palms are slick with sweat. “I wouldn’t ever hurt him, I swear!”

Seungcheol scrutinizes Wonwoo. Then, his expression relaxes into a genuine smile. Wonwoo wonders if it’s the nervous sweat on his upper lip that’s convincing.

“Good,” the owner of Catstronomy says. “Junhui probably hasn’t told you, but he likes you too. Don’t fuck this up.”

Wonwoo is frozen in his seat until Junhui picks him up.

“Hey! I’m done – why do you look like you want to piss your pants?” Junhui frowns, hands on his hips. “Did Seungcheol hyung threaten you?”

Wonwoo just nods mutely.

Junhui rolls his eyes theatrically. “Just because we call him the dad of the group doesn’t mean he has to act like it. He’s hopeless.”

Actually, Wonwoo is the hopeless one, but Junhui is convinced he isn’t, so he won’t quite disillusion him this early.

Wonwoo clears his throat and grins. From the look on Junhui’s face – equal parts amused and fond – it must look as awkward as it feels. At the very least, Junhui isn’t completely turned off and that’s a win.

“Ready to go to dinner?” Junhui asks, sliding out of his seat.

Wonwoo hesitates, then follows. He doesn’t flinch when Junhui pulls him out of the cafe with a jaunty wave towards Jihoon at the front counter. Junhui thinks out loud, listing potential date places. They all sound wonderful and Wonwoo would love to explore everywhere Junhui wants to go.

Junhui turns to Wonwoo expectantly.

“How about KBBQ?” Wonwoo asks.

Junhui face lights up. Wonwoo thinks that if Junhui wanted the moon, he’d move heaven and earth itself to give it to him.

In theory, a KBBQ place sounds great. They’re relatively private without only leaving the two of them in a room, Wonwoo can show off his great hunter-gathering skills by cooking some meat and it’s not so loud that Wonwoo has to shout.

In reality, Wonwoo manages to burn himself on the grill four times accidentally, Junhui is in tears of laughter and the first few pieces of beef that Wonwoo cooks ends up being overcooked, tough squares that would make Mingyu weep.

Wonwoo swears he’s better than this. Usually. Mingyu and Seungkwan can label him a certified hot mess all they want, but he’s not actually this bad. It’s just that... Junhui is a distraction. A wonderful distraction that he doesn’t mind being caught by over and over again.

Junhui pulls the linen towel away from his hand, checking on the reddened skin. It doesn’t sting much – the ice helps in that case – but Wonwoo thinks it feels better because Junhui is the one nursing him.

Wonwoo really likes Junhui. It’s not a problem at all.

Junhui laughs, covering his mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Maybe we should’ve gone somewhere that cooked the food before it reached the table.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? This is the best date ever,” he blurts out.

Junhui blinks, then looks down at Wonwoo’s injured hand.

“Best dates usually don’t involve bodily harm,” Junhui says with a wry smile.

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Are you kidding? I’m on a date with you. That’s more than enough for me.”

Looking back on it, Wonwoo has to admit that it was pretty smooth of him to say that. Junhui must think that too, from the blush that invades his cheek and the prettiest shy smile ever playing on his lips.

“You’re such a smooth talker,” Junhui teases. “You’re lucky I like nerds.”

Wonwoo has to agree. Wonwoo is lucky. He’s the luckiest man on the whole damn planet. (Junhui would disagree. He’s argue that he’s the lucky one.)

[svt-writers-club]

idk i've i've obsessed with the villain au and... i've been wondering about what happened to villain! jihan

TRIGGER WARNINGS IMMINENT! if you’re triggered by/are not comfortable with blood, violence, gore and overall violent descriptions and imagery, then STOP HERE and move on to something else, thank you! (Feel free to message me if you think there are other trigger warnings I should add to this post)

what do you mean i’m not allowed to pile all the angst on villain au!jihan? where’s that rule book? i don’t see it, i do not know. even if there is a rule book, i simply cannot read.

it’s a halloween miracle! two posts in a day! how long will this craziness go on!

- Jeonghan once saw a future with Jisoo.

He doesn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t tell Jihoon, or Seungkwan, or even Chan. He doesn’t even dare breathe it to Baby, who he knows will never betray him for anything, even if he could speak.

He doesn’t tell anyone, but he still knows.

For a time, he could see a future with Jisoo. He could see them having dinners and anniversaries. Waking up together and falling into the same bed at night. All that domestic shit.

Then Jisoo broke his heart. (And his legs. And left him for dead.)

- Jeonghan isn’t like the other crazies he calls colleagues. There’s nothing wrong with his brain – not like Wonwoo or Jihoon or even Seokmin and Soonyoung. He wasn’t experimented on, wasn’t tortured, wasn’t just born with an unlucky hand. Jeonghan was once normal and he wanted normal things.

Then Orion Pharmaceutical fired him. That was fine, except he’d injected himself with an experimental drug that gave him his abilities. He could talk to plants and he could control them and he was angry. He was so fucking close to what he was working to and they fired him because he wasn’t fast enough. If synthesizing a cure for cancer so damn easy, they should’ve done it themselves!

But of course they wouldn’t. All they cared about was profit and the bottom line. Who cares about the greater good when they could be thinking about their greater wallets.

Jeonghan still grins when he remembers the pictures of the entire board of directors, strung up and hanging off the roof of his company building. It’s crass, compared to the other things he’s capable of, but it’s the one thing he’s proudest of.

- Jisoo came along not long after that. At the time, Jeonghan was still new on the scene and hung around Pleiades and Andromeda for lack of anything else to do. Jisoo had swept in with a cool gaze and sat at Jeonghan’s table while he was nursing a half-empty bottle of beer.

“I’ve seen your work,” Jisoo had said with a polite smile that hid sharp teeth.

Jeonghan had smiled back, unwilling to hide his fangs even if he wasn’t a career villain (yet). “Can’t say I’ve seen yours.”

Jisoo’s smile flattened as his voice sharpened. “Oh,” he said airily, “I’m sure you have.”

- Who hadn’t heard of The Gentleman? He’s a villain pretending to be a hero, excusing bloodshed for justice. As far as anyone can tell, the only real person Jisoo helps is himself. His code of “morals” is about as straight as the Han River.

Still... compared to the other assholes Jeonghan knows, Jisoo is the most normal. He actually has a concept of right and wrong. Sure, it’s twisted as fuck, but it’s still there.

Wonwoo does things however he wants and usually causes as much carnage as he wants. Chan has about six different faces and Jeonghan can’t tell which one he’s talking to until he’s too late. Jihoon is Jeonghan’s best friend, but he cares about doing what’s right about as much as Wonwoo does. Don’t even get him started on Seungcheol.

- It started with small gifts. Rare flowers, a cleared out park just for Jeonghan. Once, Jeonghan got caught by a detective and was handcuffed for two hours before giving them the slip. The next day, Jeonghan found the detective gutted and strung up with his own intestines on City Hall.

Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started finding that romantic. (He knows when; it was when he’d gotten desperate and injected himself with a drug he’d developed after too much Red Bull and too little sleep.)

Then they did the occasional heists together. Not that often – Jisoo is still too droll to work with, what with his morals and his rules – but often enough that they have inside jokes. Jeonghan puts in extra effort into what he wears on those days and Jisoo’s smiles look more genuine.

Then they started fucking.

That’s not a problem. Jeonghan loves fucking. He’d gladly sleep with anyone who gave him the time and date. He knows he’s hot. Of course Jisoo knows he’s hot. He’s a villain, not blind.

The problem is when they meet up outside of heists. Outside of causing trouble just because they can. Jisoo knows where Jeonghan lives and he drops by. Jeonghan slips in and out of Jisoo’s extravagant penthouse like he belongs there.

- Jeonghan thought he was special.

That’s another problem.

He was too used to one side of Jisoo. Too used to having Jisoo alone to himself.

Jeonghan wouldn’t let go of taking down Venus Industries. He couldn’t. He’d found their experiments. He’d known what they were doing to children. (Jeonghan hadn’t been a researcher for years at that point, but he’d held the very, very small hand of a child as they faded, chest rattling, and something in him seethed.) Jisoo couldn’t let go either. He’d found out they were the ones who’d been ferrying all kinds of drugs into the city. Jisoo didn’t care about druggies; he only cared that the druggies didn’t care that they were in Jisoo’s neighbourhood, too out of it to be respectful.

Jeonghan forgot.

He forgot that Jisoo didn’t like “civilian” kills. He didn’t even hesitate; the CEO was dead before he finished his shout, throat pierced through with rose thorns. Jeonghan made sure he died nice and slow (just like the little boy whose hand he held).

If only they’d been alone. Jeonghan had stupidly agreed to join Jisoo’s team because all he could see was the small hand in his and the rattling coughs of a dying child. He hadn’t seen Seokmin or Jihoon crashing into each other as they skidded into the room, didn’t see Soonyoung’s delighted grin or the widening of Seungcheol’s eyes.

All he knows is that one moment he was watching the light in the fat pig’s eyes go out and the next, he was thrown against the wall. There was nothing holding him up.

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan had spat, glaring at Jisoo.

Jisoo’s face was blank. “I told you we only needed to kill the researchers.”

Jeonghan struggled uselessly against Jisoo’s mental bonds. Jisoo had never used his powers on him before. The anger in his chest threatened to sputter out, but Jeonghan stubbornly fed it. He couldn’t let himself feel fear.

“And I told you,” Jeonghan gritted out, “that the problem was the pigs at the top.”

Jisoo’s lips thinned.

Jeonghan had never seen that expression on Jisoo’s face. He’s seen a host of other expressions – happiness, arousal, bliss, contentment – but not this one. Because this expression isn’t meant for Jeonghan.

Disappointment wasn’t meant for Jeonghan.

“You disobeyed me.” There was steel in Jisoo’s voice.

Jeonghan, the fool that he was, quirked an eyebrow. “So what?”

- Jeonghan didn’t feel the pain, at first. He’d been in shock at the nothingness on Jisoo’s voice.

No regret.

No pain.

No emotion.

Jeonghan thinks he didn’t feel his broken legs because he was too busy feeling his broken heart. It had hurt, more than the sharp pain of a broken bone, of seeing jagged white stick out of his flesh and through his jeans.

Nothing will ever hurt more than being thrown in a desert.

Discarded, like trash.

Left behind, like a regret.

- Jihoon came back. He’d come back just before Jeonghan was sure he was dying of blood loss. Jihoon, with his deceptively weak stature, carefully cradling Jeonghan against his chest as he looked for a way to get him to Chan.

Jeonghan was grateful – is still grateful – that Jihoon never said anything about the dirty tear tracks on his cheeks.

He’s still amazed, how quickly the flutterings of love can turn to hate. He sees in his mind’s eye, clear as day, Jisoo’s back as he just left. No I’m sorry, no I’ll come back when you’ve learnt your lesson. He’d just walked away like what they had didn’t mean anything. Like Jeonghan didn’t mean anything.

- These days, Jeonghan would sooner spit on Jisoo’s face than kiss it. He feeds his anger carefully, keeps it roaring so it can never go out. He’ll never let himself be brought down that low by anyone ever again.

He’ll never let Jisoo hurt him like that ever again.

(He still remembers the night before Venus Industries, when Jeonghan had stayed awake as Jisoo slept. He’d brushed Jisoo’s hair out of his face; Jisoo didn’t even stir. They’re both dangerous people, but Jisoo has no problem sleeping soundly with him.

Jeonghan can’t hold back a smile, pressing a kiss to Jisoo’s forehead. “I love you,” he murmurs against the slightly sweaty skin.)

[svt-writers-club]

Ask games #5: 10 and 39 for Jicheol in Emotional Hurt/Comfort trope please and thank you 😊

the sudden influx of jicheol asks is making me think that my birthday came early and i’m living for this. hope you don’t mind that i slipped in a little iron man au here, because it’s been a while since i talked about those kooky bois and emotional hurt/comfort fits them so well

also hi! i know it’s been like a year since i wrote anything, but i’ve been going through some stuff. i’m better now, though! and i’ll be working on some stuff so hopefully i can add more to this blog!

#10. “You’ve… never really looked at me that way now, did you?”#39. “I never say it. But… I do appreciate it.”

Jihoon is dying.

He’s dying and he’s… he’s okay with that.

Well, not really okay. There’s no feasible way for a man to be completely content with death. But he’s… he’s adjusted. He’s known for two months now, so he’s been getting his affairs in order.

He’s trying to, at least.

He has a multi-billion dollar company to give to an heir, weapons that he can’t afford to leave lying around lest the government makes use of it and all his babies. His binary babies, like WooJI and Dokyeom. He can’t just give them away to anyone.

“Sir?” WooJI demurs. “Your heart rate is spiking again.”

Jihoon lets his head loll off the arm of his sofa. His workshop is a mess, half-complete inventions littering the vast work top. He can’t bring himself to finish anything, thoughts scattered between his impending demise and the lethargy the palladium poisoning brings.

“I’m fine,” Jihoon sighs. He shields his eyes with his forearm in a weak attempt to alleviate his killer headache. Between stressing over Wonwoo’s new armour and his babies, he’s at his wit’s end. For once, his brain is failing him.

High-pitched beeping has Jihoon shifting, squinting up at the camera he’d placed on Dokyeom’s head almost a decade ago. In its claw, there’s a dark green smoothie. It doesn’t even look like there’s oil in it this time.

“Did you make that yourself, buddy?” Jihoon murmurs. Dokyeom beeps an affirmative, attempting to press the smoothie into Jihoon’s hand again.

One of these days, Jihoon will have to tell Seokmin he named his dumbest and oldest bot after his high school nickname. One day. (Maybe he’ll do it in the goodbye videos he’s planning to make. His oldest friends deserve that much, he thinks.)

Dokyeom beeps insistently again. Jihoon takes the glass and, under the bot’s watchful camera, takes a sip. It’s disgusting, but in the way all health drinks are disgusting.

Jihoon forces a smile. “It’s good, dude. You did really well.”

Dokyeom does a happy little spin, even managing to show off the new treads WooJI had ordered for him. They fit him well. Jihoon makes sure to tell Dokyeon that he looks very handsome. (He doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance.)

“Sir?”

WooJI’s voice is lower, like he’s worried about Jihoon. He snorts. Only he would be able to program worry into an AI.

“I’m fine,” Jihoon reflexively says, as his chest twinges.

He stumbles over to the floor length mirror he had installed recently. He let Seungcheol believe it was for purely narcissistic reasons, but it’s actually so he can monitor the darkening veins creeping out from the arc reactor in his chest.

It looks worse. Darker, and more sinister. Like death himself has injected poison into Jihoon’s veins to claim him.

WooJI lets out a warning chime. “Seungcheol-ssi is heading into the basement.”

Jihoon lets out a heavy sigh that sticks in his throat, dropping the hem of his shirt.

God. Seungcheol.

What’s he going to do with him? His highly competent assistant, who’s been with him through work binges, playing around, Afghanistan and betrayals. The only man who makes his blood pressure rise that has nothing to do with anger or exasperation. Jihoon has been so careful to keep his messy life away from Seungcheol, but it’s all rushing together and he can’t keep up. For once in his life, he’s lagging behind, exactly when he doesn’t want it to.

The door slides open, Seungcheol’s feet exaggeratedly loud as he stomps to Jihoon’s work desk and slams a newspaper down onto the surface.

“What’s this?” Jihoon asks, trying to force some levity as he picks the newspaper up between two fingers. “This is a relic. People still read newspapers?”

Seungcheol jabs at the front page headline. “Only as long as people keep writing news!”

Iron Man Back To His Old Ways?

There’s a truly unflattering picture of Jihoon, fully clothed, floating on his back in a pool. Jihoon doesn’t quite remember when that was (these days, he tries his hardest to get drunk and stay drunk, in between trying medications), but Wonwoo can be seen on the edge of the pool, yelling at him. He thinks it might have been at the last weapons conference he’d attended. Jihoon tilts the newspaper; wow, the photographer really managed to highlight that one vein that pops out when Wonwoo is pissed.

“Keep a scan of this,” Jihoon says distractedly. “I want to email it to Wonwoo.”

“Right away, sir.”

“No,” Seungcheol says vehemently, snatching the paper out of Jihoon’s hands. “This is serious! You told me when you got the suit that you were going to change.”

“I did. I am changed.” Jihoon bites his tongue. He can’t tell Seungcheol about the palladium poisoning. It would do nothing but make him sad.

Seungcheol’s gaze makes him feel three inches tall. The vitriol in his voice is barely disguised as he enunciates, “Clearly.”

“Seungcheol-ssi.”

The scowl on Seungcheol’s face has no business being as gorgeous as it is now. Jihoon finds himself memorising the angle of Seungcheol’s lips, the exact curve of his frown and the colour of his lips.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath. “Yes, Jihoon-ssi?”

He clasps his hands politely, back straight. The perfect picture of professionalism. Jihoon could never match that, so he settles for running his fingers through his hair so it’s not that big of a mess.

Jihoon pulls out a folder from one of his drawers, the one that has been burning a hole in his mind since the first time he asked WooJI to get them printed. He had to do it old school – with papers, instead of electronically. Old-fashioned, but undeniably legitimate.

“If you could do me a favour and sign these,” Jihoon says casually.

He’d been hoping Seungcheol would just sign the papers, too annoyed with Jihoon about the PR disaster that he knowingly caused.

He should know better than to underestimate Seungcheol’s intelligence. He’s more than just a pretty face, after all.

Seungcheol makes a strange expression. “This is an employment contract,” he says slowly.

“Yeah. You know, bureaucratic bullshit.”

“This is an employment contract for being CEO of Lee Group.” Seungcheol pauses deliberately. “That’s your company.”

“It was my father’s company,” Jihoon snaps, before he can stop himself.

Seungcheol blinks, rearing back like a wounded animal. He slowly places the folder back on the table. “I can’t accept that. I’m not qualified.”

“You’ve handled my accounts from the moment I hired you as my personal assistant, and you’re basically running the company already.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows draw an angry V on his forehead. “So you’re, what, shunting all the boring stuff to me so you can – can fuck around and go back to your old ways?”

“No.” Jihoon takes a deep breath. “It’s because you’re competent and I’m not. I can’t run a company. I’m an engineer, not a business man. Do you understand?”

Seungcheol continues looking at him blankly.

“What is is this time?” Jihoon sighs.

“Nothing,” Seungcheol says. He’s still frowning. “You’ve… never really looked at me that way now, did you?”

“Like what?”

“Like… like you need me.”

Jihoon chokes on Dokyeom’s healthy shake. He coughs and coughs, even when his airway is clear and he can breathe just fine. He coughs because it’s so true, that he needs Seungcheol the way he needs to tinker in his workshop or the way he needs to breathe and it’s okay, he swears the tears are from nearly choking to death, nothing else –

“You’re a mess,” Seungcheol says helplessly, after Jihoon calms down and he can find the composure to dry the tears from his eyes. The warmth of his hands leave momentarily, but a cup of cold water is pressed to his hands.

Seungcheol’s touch is nice, especially where he’s running the back of Jihoon’s neck while he drinks his water.

“What would you do without me?” Seungcheol says, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Jihoon clings to it, remembers the exact timbre, the exact note. He wants to play it again and again, until it’s ingrained in the grooves of his brain even when he’s long gone.

“I would be infinitely worse off,” Jihoon says with a forced grin.

Seungcheol reaches for the folder, tapping it against the table top. “I’m shredding this.”

“No!” Jihoon clasps his hand over Seungcheol’s, squeezing lightly. “Just – sleep on it. Maybe it won’t look so bad in the morning. The benefits are killer.”

Seungcheol looks down at their joined hands. Then, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll sleep on it.” He bites his lip. “You get some sleep too. You’re looking more and more like a panda lately.”

Jihoon can’t sleep. He’ll sleep when he’s dead. He doesn’t have that many waking hours left. But the worried look in Seungcheol’s eyes has him saying, “Yeah, I’ll sleep.”

“Good.”

Seungcheol takes the folder and the newspaper, stopping to pet Dokyeom on the camera. The bot beeps happily, circling around Seungcheol quickly. Maybe Seungcheol and Wonwoo can have joint custody. Jihoon makes a mental note to update his will.

“Hey,” Jihoon calls out, right before Seungcheol crosses the threshold outside of his workshop.

Seungcheol pauses, looking over his shoulder with a questioning look.

“I never say it,” Jihoon says, “but… I do appreciate it.”

Seungcheol’s smile is as confused as it is beautiful. Jihoon wishes he was an artist, so he could paint Seungcheol the way he looks now.

“Appreciate what?”

“Everything.” Jihoon clears his throat, turning to his holo screens. “That you do for me, I mean.”

He can’t bring himself to look at Seungcheol. It feels too raw – like something he never should have said. But it’s out there now, so he can’t take it back. Because it’s true.

It’s true that Jihoon appreciates him and he wants to tell him, but there are so many words that he can’t put them together. So he’ll give him his company and set him up for life, because Seungcheol is competent and beautiful and he’ll be just fine without Jihoon.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol says softly. “And… I appreciate too.” Before Jihoon can fool himself, Seungcheol continues, “You’re a great boss, Jihoon-ssi.”

Jihoon smiles – a fake, plastic smile he reserves for cameras. “And you’ll be a wonderful CEO, Seungcheol-ssi.”

Jihoon sits in silence for a while, staring at Wonwoo’s suit schematics blankly. He feels regret. He feels empty. There’s so much that needs to be done before his time is up.

“WooJI?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Start recording me. End of The World Protocol.”

“As you wish, sir. Who would you like to start with?”

Jihoon thinks – really thinks. He reaches out for the trophy Seungcheol had stubbornly left for him, the day after he’d called the arc reactor that got him out of Afghanistan obsolete.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

hey!! idr if u remember me lol but i took a quick break from tumblr only to come back to the BEST THING!! a nice little stack of ur posts to read!!! so thank u for that :)

i do remember you took a quick break!!! welcome back! i’m sorry i couldn’t come back sooner, but i’m glad you had a little stack of something to make you feel nice and welcome!

[svt-writers-club]

Literally anything Jihan in Hopeless Supernatural AU, please and thank you~ (Ps i will love you and I promise to say you're scary 💜)

it’s spoopy month! so i should really be paying attention to my more supernatural aus huh? and what better way then to attack this ask that has been sitting on the dusty shelf of my ask box for a while?

(i’m so bad at tackling asks i KNOW and i’m so sorry i’m like this)

- It takes a while for Jeonghan to ask Jisoo out on their first date.

He’s still in shock that Jisoo kissed him. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve that – maybe he saved the world in another life? – but boy, is he glad that it happened.

He doesn’t know what brought it on. Maybe it’s some magic fuckery. It could be Soonyoung just fucking around with his arrows. Soonyoung means well, but he always such a dumbass. (He knows it’s not Soonyoung, and that makes it scarier.)

Either way, Jisoo looks lovely as always when Jeonghan drops by the bookstore to drop off apple tartlets that he got from Wonwoo (he has to bribe him with fish skin chips that Wonwoo is a complete slut for – which also happens to be almost impossible to find).

It’s late morning, right before the regulars show up. Jisoo is sitting at the counter, head buried in a book and worrying his lip absently. Jeonghan doesn’t fool himself into thinking Jisoo didn’t hear him, but he clears his throat anyway.

The smile that blooms on Jisoo’s lips is breathtaking.

“Hi,” Jisoo murmurs, sliding a bookmark between the pages and setting his book aside. His eyes flit to the brown paper bag with Siren Call Cafe’s logo on its surface. His nose twitches. “Is that for me?”

“Maybe,” Jeonghan drawls, dangling it just out of Jisoo’s reach. “I don’t just give tartlets for free, you know.”

He puckers his lips and closes his eyes, waiting patiently.

Jisoo chuckles. Jeonghan can make out the faint scent of lavender before he has cool lips pressed to his.

This is a new addition to their daily routine. Sure, Jeonghan doesn’t have the balls to ask Jisoo out, but at least he can get kisses.

There’s a satisfied smile on Jisoo’s lips when he pulls bag. He holds a hand out and Jeonghan happily deposits the bag into Jisoo’s waiting hand. The delighted sound that Jisoo lets out as he pulls out a still-warm tartlet is precious and Jeonghan is so whipped. Then again, being a goner for Jisoo isn’t a punishment.

With the late afternoon sunlight streaming in from the windows, highlighting Jisoo’s caramel hair, Jeonghan thinks maybe he can finally find his balls.

“Hey,” he says, gently breaking the contented silence.

Jisoo blinks, mouth full of pastry and apples. There are crumbs around his lips. Jeonghan doesn’t hesitate to brush them off with a fond smile.

“Hm?” Jisoo asks, swallowing quickly.

“Are you free Thursday after your shift?”

“Why?”

God, Jeonghan loves Jisoo so much, even though he’s about as bright as one of those cheap nightlights sometimes.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, nervousness edging in, “I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner. In a, uh, non-platonic way.”

In a non-platonic way? What kind of idiot phrases it like that? That’s it, he’s ruined it. Goodbye, daydreams about waking up in the same bed as Jisoo.

Jisoo blinks, licking his lips. Jeonghan desperately pretends that doesn’t affect him at all. “Like… like a d-date?”

“Y-yeah.” Fuck me, Jeonghan moans to himself. Why is he stuttering? They already regularly kiss. Going on dates is just a natural progression. Right? “I mean, yes, definitely. I, Yoon Jeonghan, am asking you, Hong Jisoo, on a date.”

“Oh.” Pink suffuses Jisoo’s cheeks. “I. I’d like. That. I’d like that a lot.”

“Great!” Jeonghan exclaims. His voice is way too loud. “I will pick you up. Here. On Thursday. After your shift.”

“Yes! After my shift! See you!”

Jeonghan tries to make a smooth exit, but he misses the door handle and walks straight into the door. He might have a concussion, but that’s not important.

He has a date with Jisoo on Thursday! He has a lot of plans to make.

- Jeonghan makes a lot of plans. Like, a lot of plans. He wants to sweep Jisoo off his feet and woo him.

Most of his plans fall through.

He had an idea to bring Jisoo star gazing and have a midnight picnic.

Well, for one, his car breaks down. Then it starts to rain – or, well, storm. His indoor picnic idea doesn’t go so well either; everything he makes is either inedibly raw or unbearably burnt. Jeonghan curses himself for not casting a small good luck spell on himself this morning.

Either way, he ends up falling on plan J – ddakgalbi restaurant.

It… it’s not his best contingency plan. There’s a reason it’s plan J. (Jeonghan doesn’t usually plan that far ahead, but… well. It’s Jisoo. He deserves at least to a plan J.)

Jeonghan shows up with a bouquet of red tulips and red chrysanthemums. He would’ve asked for more, but he thinks it might be overkill for the first date. Hopefully there will be more dates he can buy flowers for.

Jisoo grins, pressing his nose to the crimson petals. “They’re perfect,” he murmurs. “You didn’t have to.”

“I had to,” Jeonghan interjects gently, taking Jisoo’s hand and pressing a kiss to the cool knuckles. “Are you ready for our date?”

Jisoo squeezes his fingers. His smile goes all the way to his eyes and Jeonghan is hooked. “Yeah. As long as it’s with you.”

Yeah, okay. Jeonghan will literally kill for this man, he’s so in love with him.

And maybe – just maybe – Jisoo is just as in love with him too.

[svt-writers-club]

Villian AU Wonchan? 🥺🥺🥺 (if you need an excuse here it is)

lichiitea always spoils me by giving me excuses to write the things i wanna write and honestly i love being spoiled and am also a weak bitch so :3c

i know you guys love jihan for this au but you guys need to make way for more angst ships up in this villainy

to celebrate fear being the theme song of villain au, here’s some villain au wonchan romance (?)

TRIGGER WARNINGS IMMINENT! if you’re triggered by/are not comfortable with blood, violence, gore and overall violent descriptions and imagery, then STOP HERE and move on to something else, thank you! (Feel free to message me if you think there are other trigger warnings I should add to this post)

- Chan doesn’t know what love is.

He knows how to make love – to create it out of nothing but magic. He knows how to force love, to manipulate minds into feeling something that isn’t there. He knows that it exists, that it’s a powerful force, but he doesn’t know what love is.

At least he doesn’t, until he meets Jeon Wonwoo.

- Jeon Wonwoo is a scrawny thing, at first. With large glasses and a larger sweater, he stumbles into Chan’s teashop. The friendly little bell jingles, the tourists who wandered into Chan’s shop turning and eyeing the newcomer disinterestedly before returning to their conversation.

Chan watches the stranger look around his humble tea emporium confusedly, nervously fiddling with his glasses. He’s not classically handsome, Chan thinks, although he supposes there’s something appealing about that sharp jawline and soft sweater.

He plasters on a smile and glides towards the lost mortal, his hanbok sleeves fluttering slightly in an absent wind. “Welcome to Lee’s Tea Emporium,” he chirps. “Table for one?”

The mortal blinks, lips pursing. “I… don’t know how I got here,” he says sheepishly. Too sharp eyes scrutinise Chan suspiciously from behind treated glass.

“That’s normal,” Chan lies smoothly, with another charming smile. “It’s the winding streets. Let me find you a seat with a view.”

This one will be fun to mess with, he thinks to himself, without knowing that he’s completely wrong. Well, Chan’s not really used to having the tables turned on him.

(He can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it ever.)

- The mortal finds his way into Chan’s tea shop every day for the next month. He comes in at precisely twelve-eighteen in the afternoon without fail. Chan keeps an eye on the clock, the ticking of the minute hand always corresponding with the welcoming jingle of the bell.

Chan is not intrigued. His interest is barely piqued.

After all, there’s a new villain in town. A villain that’s painted in hues of insanity that call to Chan like a flame to a moth. He’s drawn to the jagged edges of the dumbass carved on the skin of the small-time criminal, the sheer lack of restraint in the way bones in the face were broken.

It’s not love, but it’s something close.

- Seungkwan says this Wonwoo guy is bad news. It’s funny, because Chan has been telling Seungkwan that Hansol is way out of his league, but he never listens either.

Chan isn’t stupid. He doesn’t want to end up with a broken face and shattered pride. He’ll play this strategically.

He hangs out along the edge of Wonwoo’s territory, causing havoc and having fun, trying to draw out the elusive madman. He fucks with the police station a block away, then casts illusions in a park right outside of the new villain’s territory.

It doesn’t take very long.

He’s in the middle of perusing a jewellery store who decided not to fuck with him (or his wolf familiar, Dino) when he feels a menacing presence at the door. Chan doesn’t stop scrutinising a pair of diamond earrings, although he does tilt his body so the newcomer knows he’s been acknowledged.

“You’re in my territory,” a deep voice rumbles. There’s no menace in his voice, but a shiver runs down Chan’s spine anyway.

“Am I?” Chan asks with faux-confusion. He turns towards the stranger fully, eyes trailing over the neat shoes, tailored suit and polished cane. His gaze lingers on the almost-familiar face, jolting when he realises it’s his newest regular.

“So it’s you,” the mortal, Wonwoo, says. There’s not timidity in his gaze, no hesitation as he saunters into the store. “You’re the warlock shop owner.”

“You’re the mousy writer,” Chan retorts, standing his ground. Something in him quivers as Wonwoo strides forward like he belongs here. It’s titillating. It makes him yearn for something that he shouldn’t want.

Wonwoo’s gaze is sharp as he stops a hair’s breadth away from Chan. “That’s not me.”

“No?” Chan raises an eyebrow. “A mask is still a facet of you, even if you don’t realise.”

“Maybe I’m not hiding.”

“Everyone’s always hiding.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow coolly. He plucks the earring out of Chan’s hand casually. Their fingers brush. “And what are you hiding, little warlock?”

The question genuinely stuns Chan.

He doesn’t even notice that Dino has her head bowed, tail between her legs because she’s faced with a predator with sharper teeth and an insatiable thirst for blood – a predator that doesn’t need teeth and claws to tear a man apart.

Chan isn’t scared by that. He’s a man that can command the four elements whenever he can, that regularly plays with the simple minds of mortals any time he pleases.

What can a mortal like Jeon Wonwoo – who has no powers, no way to battle against Chan in a duel and win – do to him?

- Chan is obsessed.

He finds himself scrolling the news for a glimpse of the villainous madman, his gaze following Wonwoo’s civilian persona with an intensity that would scare a regular mortal.

Chan plays with feelings at the drop of a potion, can craft poisons and antidotes from the top of his head. With a wave of his hand, he can bend physics. At the touch of his lips, men and women crumble at his feet.

And yet…

And yet.

His mind is twisted around. Maybe Wonwoo has powers after all.

- It’s a quiet Tuesday afternoon. The morning has been unproductive; all Chan can do is stare at the clock, impatiently waiting for twelve-eighteen. Energy thrums under his skin, sparks trailing across his fingers with every task he finishes unsuccessfully.

The moment the jingle sounds, Chan is greeting Wonwoo at the door. He hates with a passion – from Wonwoo’s soft grey cardigan to his round wire-framed glasses, all the way to his soft hair that Chan wants to bury his handsin and ruin.

He grabs the writer by the collar, dragging him into the kitchen and tossing him unceremoniously against the marble counter.

“What have you done to me?” Chan hisses. His hair whips angrily, eyes flashing silver as his frustration culminates in energy that fills the air and makes the air thick.

Wonwoo sheds this false persona he’s sunk deep into, back straightening and eyes darkening.

“I haven’t done anything,” the psychopath says, but he’s lying.

“You did,” Chan snarls, crossing the space between them. He lifts Wonwoo effortlessly, but he’s unfazed. He gazes at Chan like he’s the one in control. Chan wants to break him. “What curse did you put on me?”

The smirk that curls Wonwoo’s lips knows much more than Chan can ever know. “We’re all cursed. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“Maybe it’s the world that’s crazy.”

And somehow that makes sense. The world has tilted and turned insane right in front of Chan’s eyes.

“You’ve done something to me,” Chan says.

Wonwoo smile, slow and wicked. “Maybe I have.”

- Chan doesn’t know what love is. He doesn’t.

But he imagines the way Wonwoo’s eyes scorch his skin as they watch him is as close to love as he can get. The desperate way Chan hangs off Wonwoo’s every word, goes from calling him Wonwoo-ssi to Wonwoo hyung to just hyung.

Wonwoo learns the ways Chan plays with mortals, then learns how to play Chan’s body like the well-loved piano in his shitty apartment out in Itaewon. He takes Chan’s hand then breaks him sweet and slow – almost tender enough to make Chan believe there’s something more between them.

Wonwoo fills his every thought, so he doesn’t even hesitate when Wonwoo asks him for a single spell that causes devastation.

And it devastates him when Wonwoo tosses him aside, like he’s nothing more than an empty gun.

[svt-writers-club]

... okay I lied. This is the last one heh. Ask games #5: 13,17 for Jicheol in Nanny AU

guys, just know that i literally beg soojin to send me asks so you guys should do her a favour and check out her blog if you’re caratarmy or just, also, have an obsession with jimin like most of the world (he’s not my bias but i too have a bit of an obsession with park jimin and that’s just a part of life)

#13: “Choose. Piggyback or princess carry.”

#17: “Dammit! I should’ve snapped a picture!”

It’s a week before the end of the summer holidays that Jihoon finally manages to get the whole Choi family together for a picnic at Han River. Between Seungcheol and Jisoo busying themselves with a new play, Wonwoo and his part-time job at the music shop (it had been a long argument between Seungcheol and Jihoon – between Seungcheol keeping his eldest son at home and pampered like the trust fund baby he is versus Jihoon’s practical views about teaching the young man the importance of earning his own money… and also getting Wonwoo out of the house sometimes so he can have his own personal time), Mingyu with his basketball team (a team he only joined to get closer to his new crush but ended up being pretty good at it) and Hansol with his piano lessons, it’s been hard to get all four Chois in the house at the same time.

Honestly, Jihoon is impressed he managed to pull it off. And he didn’t even pack any wine this time. (Jeonghan made a strong case for it, though, but Jihoon doubts there’ll be any shenanigans happening on this trip. It’s just a picnic, for god’s sake. What’s the worst that could happen?)

Well, not even Jihoon could have predicted that big dog bowling him over honestly.

When he says big dog, he means big. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought it was actually a small horse that pounced on him and slobbered all over his new shirt. (It’s not like he bought the shirt just to impress Seungcheol or whatever – don’t be ridiculous. Lee Jihoon does not have the hots for his boss.)

“Oh my god – I’m so sorry!” the dog owner cries out. Running behind the wolf-dog is a guy that looks like he’s barely out of high school.

He’s half a head shorter than Jihoon, which is why he isn’t surprised she lost control of the beast. At this rate, he’s convinced it’s mostly wolf. His dog’s leash is dangling from his hand, the end of it frayed from where it had given under the veritable strength of the wolf-dog currently sitting on Jihoon’s ribcage.

“It’s fine,” he wants to say.

Instead, all he manages to come up with is a warbled, confused, “Eh?” He sounds vaguely like a beached whale.

“Holy shit,” someone laughs, somewhere above Jihoon’s head. He thinks it might be Jeonghan. Jeonghan, who’s laughing at him a little. Honestly, fuck Jeonghan.

“Dino, down!” the kid cries, physically lifting the wolf-dog off Jihoon’s chest. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, damn.

Finally, Jihoon feels like he can breathe normally, although his head feels fuzzy. The weight lifted off his chest is a relief, but it only brings all his aches and bruises in sharp relief.

“That’s a hell of a dog,” Jihoon croaks, sitting up gingerly.

The kid literally holding the wolfhound from slobbering all over Jihoon grins sheepishly. “She’s usually better behaved, but it’s been a week since I got to walk her…” The kid blinks, holding out a hand to help Jihoon up, because he’s still lying on the pavement like a dumbass. “I’m Chan.”

“Jihoon.” He bites back an amused smile. It’s not every day you meet a guy by having his dog run you over. “After-school walk, huh?”

“School?” Chan lets out a surprised laugh. “I’m thirty-two. I’m way over school.”

Jihoon flushes, trying his best not to sputter as he does a double take. In the loose jeans and hoodie, Chan looks like a regular college student. Maybe Jihoon spends way too much time around kids if he can’t even tell the difference between a teenager and someone who’s only five years younger than him.

He accepts the proffered hand. “You look a lot young – ack!”

Jihoon stumbles forward, almost bodily slamming into Chan as his ankle buckles under him. He’s lucky Chan is a lot stronger than he looks, or he’d be flat on the ground again.

“Are you okay?” Chan asks, lips pursed in worry as he steadies Jihoon.

“I’m…” Jihoon trails off as he gingerly applies weight on his right ankle. He lets out a hiss as pain travels up his leg. “Ah, fuck.”

Dino is an exceptionally good wolf-dog, because she doesn’t go around trying to tackle other unsuspecting characters. She does, however, sniff Jihoon’s ankle and proceed to cover her snout in shame. She even lets out a little whine. Cute little bastard.

“Puppy!” Hansol exclaims.

Jihoon turns and sure enough, there Hansol is, tugging on his dad’s hand impatiently.

And, of course, there Seungcheol is, looking stupidly handsome and – and concerned, in his denim shorts that show off muscled calves and a black t-shirt that clings to Seungcheol’s broad shoulders.

Jihoon definitely does not have a thing for his boss.

“That’s not a puppy. It’s bigger than you,” Mingyu sighs, all sassy and long-suffering at the age of sixteen. He eyes Jihoon critically, melted ice cream making sticky rivulets along his fingers as he holds out his ice cream.

Wonwoo meanders behind, his eyes covered by his expensive sunglasses so Jihoon can’t figure out what he’s thinking.

“Getting friendly with the dog walkers, hyung?” Wonwoo calls out, pulling his shades down low so Jihoon can see the disapproving look he’s shooting him.

“Don’t be rude, brat,” Jihoon retorts, but he feels a telltale heat creeping up his neck. He is inappropriately close to Chan – a literal stranger – but he really doesn’t want to faceplant on the pavement. (Especially not with Seungcheol watching…)

Jihoon turns to Jeonghan, but he has the brim of his cap over his eyes, arms crossed. He looks like he’s napping, which is pretty much the only time he’s not causing trouble. Jihoon could’ve sworn the butler was awake a minute ago, though…

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asks, eyes flickering between Chan and Jihoon.

He has a hand on Jihoon’s elbow, almost possessively. It’s a strange feeling; Jihoon standing in the middle of Hangang Park with a strange man’s arm around his waist and his boss’ possessive hand on his elbow. Maybe he knocked his head on the way down.

“I’m fine,” Jihoon says. Unfortunately, he voids his statement by wincing when he attempts to put weight on his injured ankle.

“I think Jihoon-ssi might have hurt his ankle,” Chan pipes up. “I’d love to bring him to a clinic, but I have an, uh, an appointment to get to.” He shoots Jihoon a warm smile. “I’m really sorry about Dino. She usually only bowls over cute guys.”

Jihoon sputters at that, ears absolutely burning red as Chan winks at him before grabbing Dino by the collar and muscling the giant dog away. Jihoon’s just about to take a step towards that brat and shake his fist at him, but his ankle twitches and all he can manage to say is, “Oh, shit – ”

Before he can eat concrete, there’s a strong arm around his waist and his face is mashed into a broad chest. He swallows down a squeak, hands spread out in front of him so they’re resting on Seungcheol’s stomach.

Seungcheol, damn him, is grinning down at Jihoon with eyes that are honest-to-god sparkling. “Can’t have you falling for me now,” he jokes.

“I would never,” Jihoon sputters indignantly. His fingers curl into the soft fabric of Seungcheol’s shirt. He breathes in deeply (the scent of honey and expensive cologne teases his nose) and lets out a frustrated noise. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“You should kiss him better,” Jeonghan hollers.

Jihoon turns to shoot his friend a dark glare. Jeonghan clearly wasn’t napping; he just wanted to watch Jihoon make a complete and utter fool of himself.

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says sharply. There’s a pink blush spreading across his cheekbones and he can’t seem to look Jihoon in the eye.

It’s okay, Jihoon tells himself. He shouldn’t want Seungcheol to find him attractive anyway. He definitely does not want Seungcheol to find him attractive. Not even a little bit. (Maybe a little bit – just a smidge!)

“It’s okay,” Jihoon protests, pushing Seungcheol back even thought it’s actually really nice being in his arms. “I can just... hobble over to the first aid centre?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Seungcheol sighs, a fond smile playing on his pink lips. “I can walk you there.”

“I’m fine,” Jihoon insists stubbornly. He tries – stupidly – to walk on his bad ankle again and nearly goes down. It’s only Seungcheol’s proximity and Jihoon’s reflexes that saves him from a broken nose.

“Choose. Piggyback or princess carry.”

“Seungcheol-ssi!” Jihoon says hotly. His ears are definitely red. “I’m – that’s not – ”

“Princess carry it is, then.”

Jihoon doesn’t even have the time to kick up a proper protest before he’s swept off his feet. He lets out a yell, throwing his arms around Seungcheol’s neck just so he doesn’t go flying.

Their faces are unbearably close. Jihoon can make out every single individual hair on Seungcheol’s lashes. He’s probably breathing a little heavily onto Seungcheol’s face, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Seungcheol actually has the gall to smirk. Jihoon’s tempted to throw himself into the river just to get away from his infuriatingly handsome boss.

“Well, if I’d known carrying you would make you a lot more agreeable, I’d have done it sooner.”

“If you try this again, I’ll chop you in the neck.”

Seungcheol chuckles, even though Jihoon is a hundred percent serious. As Seungcheol makes his way over to the first aid centre, Jihoon has to admit that the princess carry is a lot more comfortable than the piggyback.

“You’re a lot lighter than you imagined,” Seungcheol comments.

Jihoon shoots him a mulish look. “Are you telling me you think I’m fat?”

“I’m just wondering where you keep all that food you put away,” Seungcheol replies hastily, stumbling over his words a little.

“You’ll never know,” Jihoon sniffs. He definitely doesn’t try and burrow closer. (Savour it while it lasts, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Soonyoung whispers in his mind. It’s still not a crush, though. Nope, definitely not.)

“Dammit!” Jeonghan says five minutes later, covering Hansol’s ears. “I should’ve snapped a picture!”

Wonwoo sighs heavily. “Hyung,” he says gravely, “you’re a dumbass.”

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

Hello! Can you answer SFW: 8,12 and 13 and NSFW: 1,8,9 and 10 for vernon x minghao (V8???) Please and thank you!

i know it’s taken me about a year to get to this ask, but the more i think about this pairing, the more fuzzies i get in my chest until it’s taking over me. these two are the weirdest, cutest, savagest goobers ever and i think they’re perfect together. (also i have a small love of nsfw ship asks, don’t @ me)

nsfw answers for his ask can be found here!

8. Who knows how to swim? Who doesn’t?

They both know how to swim (we saw them both swim in Holiday) but I bet Hansol just splashes around while Minghao knows at least three strokes and would competitively race anyone who dares him (no one dares him).

Minghao tries to teach Hansol a couple strokes, but so far the only one Hansol can really get down is the doggy paddle. Minghao thinks it’s adorable and exasperating… but mostly adorable.

12. Can they stand silence? Who talks the most? Who talks the least?

They’re both relatively quiet people, so they don’t mind silence. Sometimes they’ll just sit in the same room in relative silence, focused on their own things but still enjoying each other’s company. It’s not unusual for the other members to walk-in on Minghao and Hansol just sitting in a room together, hands barely touching while Minghao reads a book and Hansol reads his webtoons. Sometimes Hansol will end up napping with his head on Minghao’s lap, and it’s about as cute as you can imagine. (Minghao will absent-mindedly run his fingers through Hansol’s hair, a smile playing on his lips because he’s so fond of his boyfriend and Hansol will sometimes curl into Minghao’s warmth like a sleepy puppy and Minghao always melts at that.)

Between the two of them, Hansol talks more. Minghao is just more used to listening to people talk and hey, listening to his adorable boyfriend talking about whatever his little heart desires? The exact opposite of a chore. Honestly, Minghao could listen to Hansol talk all day because he’s secretly that whipped for him.

(Like it’s an actual secret that Minghao is trying to keep, except literally all of SEVENTEEN knows that Minghao is whipped for Hansol… except Hansol, because he just thinks that’s how Minghao is. Literally Minghao says shut up to everyone except Hansol, how has he not noticed that yet?)

13. Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?

Hansol usually stays up late. Sometimes it’s for lyrics, other times it’s just to binge-read his webtoon or watch a Netflix show with Seungkwan (who is a terrible influence on Hansol’s sleep schedule). Either way, he has to crawl into bed with Minghao, who’s already asleep but happily wraps around Hansol the moment he realises the younger is in bed with him. Minghao never remembers when Hansol comes to bed, but he doesn’t really complain when he gets to wake up with Hansol’s hair in his mouth.

Between the two of them, Minghao sleeps more. Maybe not by a lot – about an hour or two – but still more. What can he say? He likes to sleep. He takes naps whenever he can. There’s also the fact that he wakes up – no matter where he’s napping – to a magically appearing boyfriend burrowing into him so there’s that. There was even a time where Minghao was sleeping on the plane, with Seokmin drooling on his arm. By the time he woke up, a drooling Seokmin was replaced by a snoozing Hansol attempting to climb into his seat in an attempt to snuggle.

Hansol has a hard time waking up in the mornings (yes, because of his late nights) but he wakes up pretty easily as long as Minghao is the one waking him up. He’s not really a heavy sleeper and it helps that Minghao always wakes him up with kisses.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

Ask games #5: last one I promise!!! 28,30,33 for jihan I’m hopeless supernaturals AU. also yes everyone thinks you’re a hoe for jihan bc I keep requesting them. Muahahhaahhahahaha

you have absolutely no self-control you know that? but i guess it is about time i write jihan for hopeless supernaturals au >_>

#28: “Stop poking me!”#30: “Could you be like…a little less idiotic?”#33: “Do you trust me?”

There’s a running bet for how long it’ll take Seungkwan and Hansol to get their shit together. It ranges from three months (Jihoon and Soonyoung) to four years (Minghao – but only because he’s not allowed to say never). Jisoo and Jeonghan are hoping they’ll get together within the month so they can collect on the pot that’s growing outrageously. The current amount is somewhere in the high three hundred thousands.

Jeonghan wants it.

He sighs loudly, cheek pressed against his hand as he watches the lunch crowd pass by the window. The cafe is bustling, but he has a not-date with Jisoo in ten minutes.

Jisoo, the absolute walking dream, walks in with pastries and an innocuously filled flask in hand, as well as Jeonghan’s favourite mug of tea.

“What’re you thinking about?” Jisoo inquires, sliding into the empty seat with a serene smile.

Slipping a love potion into Jisoo’s drink is totally unethical, Jeonghan reminds himself. He takes a loud slurp of his drink so he has time to compose himself. “Love potions,” he answers honestly. “Our time limit for Operation VernKwan is coming up soon. I don’t wanna lose out on three hundred thousand won.”

Jisoo quirks an eyebrow, delicately biting into a mini apple tart. His elongated fang glints in the afternoon light and Jeonghan has to resist the urge to run his fingers over it like he wants to. Yeah, he’s kinda got it bad, but it could be worse. Unlike someone (Jihoon), he can at least admit when he has a crush. It’s exhausting being friends with a pack of werewolves that have no sense of emotional maturity.

“I don’t think that’s ethical,” Jisoo muses. There’s a slight sheen of caramelised sugar on his lips and Jeonghan aches.

“Who cares about ethical? I want my money.”

Even as Jeonghan says that, he softens the announcement with a cheeky grin. Of course it’s not ethical; what’s the point of being in love if it’s not real? He hums thoughtfully, eyeing Jisoo over the rim of his mug as the vampire finishes off his tart.

Jisoo meets his gaze, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I think it’s at least worth ten bucks.” Jeonghan reaches over – giving into his own urges – and swipes the crystallised sugar from Jisoo’s lips. He lets his thumb linger. Maybe if he pretends hard enough, he doesn’t have to act like he’s being that pathetic.

Jisoo’s cheeks are red in the sunlight streaming through the windows. With the bustle of people around them, Jeonghan can almost trick himself into thinking that Jisoo might feel the same way.

“I was thinking that maybe we should lock Hansol and Seungkwan in a room and make them work it out,” Jeonghan says eventually, absently licking the sugar off his thumb. (Jisoo’s eyes follows his tongue hungrily, but Jeonghan is too deep in his thoughts to notice.)

Jisoo clears his throat. “Minghao already tried. Seungkwan ended up crying and Hansol ended up biting Mingyu.”

“Oh.” Jeonghan wrinkles his nose. “What a crybaby.”

“Jeonghan!” Jisoo admonishes, poking Jeonghan’s arm. “Be nice. Sirens don’t do well in enclosed spaces.”

“Let’s just handcuff them together,” the witch suggests.

Jisoo pokes him again, a little harder this time.

“No! That’s not nice. What if they have to go to the bathroom?”

Jeonghan waggles his eyebrows in response. He earns another poke, this time to his bottom rib. He chuckles, slapping Jisoo’s hand away.

“Are you sure a love potion is off the table?” Jeonghan says, almost genuine. It’s so pathetic to see Hansol mooning after Seungkwan the way he does.

Jisoo rolls his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “Could you be, like, a little less… idiotic?” He punctuates his statement with another poke, this time higher up on Jeonghan’s ribs.

Jeonghan barks out a surprised laugh, curling away from the vampire’s evil fingers. “Stop poking me! You’re making it hard to think.”

Jisoo raises his eyebrows, mischief glinting in his amber eyes. “Oh, are you ticklish?”

He wriggles his fingers threateningly. Jeonghan flinches away out of self preservation. He narrows his eyes at Jisoo.

“If you tickle me again,” Jeonghan states, “I’ll hex you. Don’t think I won’t, bitch.”

“No, you won’t,” Jisoo says confidently. There’s a smirk on his lips and Jeonghan wishes he didn’t find it so attractive.

Jeonghan huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I won’t.”

Jisoo hums under his breath, a wordless song that was probably around longer than Jeonghan has been alive. In times like these, Jisoo feels like something ethereal – like something he isn’t fit to touch.

“I wouldn’t give them a love potion. It wouldn’t work,” Jeonghan says after watching Jisoo pluck at another mini tart sitting between them. It’s technically Jeonghan’s, but he doesn’t really like sweets, so he slides the treat over to Jisoo just to watch his face light up. “There’s already love between them.”

Yeah, Jeonghan’s bad at a lot of spellcasting. He can’t do hexes or curses, nor is he particularly good at potions. He can’t do herbal magic, nor crystal magic. He has a wand, but it’s gathering dusk in his bedside drawer, since he doesn’t do duelling magic that well and most potions already have the magic imbued in the ingredients. He’s not the best witch, but he can sense love and there’s more than enough of it between Hansol and Seungkwan. They just need to get their heads out of their asses.

“Can you see it?” Jisoo asks, tilting his head curiously. He looks like a cat, curling up contentedly in the class across from Jeonghan.

“See what?” Jeonghan laughs, sipping his tea. “The love? Yeah, sometimes. When it’s strong enough.”

Jisoo’s eyes are razor sharp as he leans forward. “Do you trust me?” he says abruptly.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure,” he snorts, fiddling with his mug absently.

“Close your eyes.”

There’s a weird emotion flashing through Jisoo’s eyes. “I don’t know if I should,” Jeonghan jokes nervously, but shuts his eyes anyway. He doesn’t have anything to be nervous about.

The cafe is a lot quieter now. The lunch crowd has come and gone, staying only long enough to get their food and drinks before leaving. The scent of coffee permeates the very walls, probably too saturated with the scent to ever be washed away.

And the lips pressed against Jeonghan’s are soft and cold.

Jeonghan gasps, eyes flying open. Jisoo is right there, eyes dark and unsure. He’s only mere inches away, his breath brushing Jeonghan’s lips. He’s like marble and art and everything Jeonghan doesn’t deserve.

“Is this okay?” Jisoo whispers. His eyelashes kiss his cheekbones as he blinks.

Love potions would never work on me, Jeonghan thinks, helpless lost. I’m too in love with you.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Jeonghan breathes, leaning forward to capture Jisoo’s lips once more.

Hansol and Seungkwan can figure themselves out.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

Ask games #5: #17 AND #25 FOR CAT CAFE AU

since there’s no pairing specified, i guess i’ll just have to continue following the lame nerds wonhui oh no what a tragedy :3c

happy wonwoo day, to our favourite bookworm.

#17: “Dammit! I should’ve snapped a picture!”#25: “Open this damned gate now!”

Wonwoo wants to be cool just for once in his goddamned life.

He finally gets a date with the cutest employee in Catstronomy. The dinner actually goes pretty well, so they go on another date and another date and another date…

That’s – that totally means they’re dating, right?

Wonwoo groans. He’s face down on his desk. He has test questions to look through and papers to grade, not to mention a lesson plan for next year that he needs to submit by next week. He has so much work to do, but here he is, daydreaming about kissing Junhui’s stupidly soft lips.

“What did you do this time?” Seungkwan, the home economics teacher, sighs.

Despite Seungkwan being a humanities teacher and Wonwoo being a science teacher, they get along remarkably well. That and the fact that they’re cubicle mates, so it’s much easier if they get along rather than being at each other’s throats. (One such example is Mingyu, the algebra teacher, and Minghao, the Chinese language teacher, who are constantly bickering over the very low cubicle walls.)

“I didn’t do anything,” Wonwoo answers defensively. Being facedown on his desk does lessen the impact of his words somewhat, but that’s just how it is sometimes.

“Is this school-related or love-related?”

“It’s not school-related.”

“Oh.” There’s the sound of a pen scratching against paper for a brief moment. “Yeah, I can’t help you there, hyung.”

Wonwoo moans into the wooden grain of his desk pathetically.

There’s the distant sound of a chair being wheeled over towards him, the wheels squeaking while shoes scuffle against the concrete floors. A finger pokes Wonwoo’s spine, but the physics teacher is too busy throwing himself a self-pity party to see who it is.

“It’s about Junhui hyung again, isn’t it?” Mingyu says knowingly, with a tinge of pity in his voice.

Wonwoo just lets out a plaintive whine.

“Aw, hyung. You poor, unfortunate sap.” A pause, and then: “I have no idea what he sees in you.”

Wonwoo toys with the idea of punching Mingyu in the dick. That would be satisfying. Then again, he doesn’t know what Junhui sees in him either. Is it the glasses? It might be the glasses. Maybe he has a thing for guys in glasses.

Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his forehead absently. “Am I dating Junhui?” he asks aloud.

Seungkwan and Mingyu share a look that speaks volumes. They make faces at each other, having a silent conversation Wonwoo has no hope of ever deciphering.

“Have you kissed?” Seungkwan asks.

Wonwoo shakes his head. He feels a cold sweat starting up at the idea of Junhui’s soft, soft lips on his.

“Have you held hands?” Mingyu adds dubiously.

Wonwoo hesitates, then shakes his head. Sometimes Junhui drags him around by the wrist when he walks too slow, but that’s not really holding hands. His palms are starting to sweat just thinking about twining his fingers with Junhui’s.

Mingyu and Seungkwan share another look. That can’t be good.

Wonwoo makes his way over to Catstronomy after school, even though it’s not a Friday. He finds himself breaking his routines a lot, these days – and it’s all thanks to Junhui.

He doesn’t know when his life got so dull – every day just another shade of grey. Ever since Junhui came sashaying into his life with his black cat ears and easy smile, flirtatious words dripping from his lips effortlessly, there’s more colour in his life. Wonwoo doesn’t feel like he’s just drifting from day to day anymore; Junhui is a splash of colour and a breath of fresh air.

Just be confident, Wonwoo tells himself. He dries his damp palms on his jeans. Jihoon calls out a tired greeting that Wonwoo ignores, eyes set on the caramel-haired waiter that captured his heart from the very first day.

Junhui turns, eyes brightening as his grin widens. “Wonwoo!” he calls out, strides lengthening as he walks towards the physics teacher.

“We need to talk,” Wonwoo breathes out a rush. He holds his breath, biting his lip as Junhui’s steps falter.

“O-oh?” Junhui says. His eyes dart around the fairly empty cafe. “Just – let me get Jisoo hyung to cover the floor for me. I have to go feed the cats too, so head over to the cat pen?”

Wonwoo nods. He shoves his hands into his pockets and wanders over. The cat pen is where most of the cats hang out when they’re not out on the main floor, playing (or bothering) the customers. It’s where most of the cat trees and cat toys are, as well as their food bowls and water fountains. There’s a little door that leads to a small, ventilated room where the litter boxes are, as well as a small gate to keep the cats in during the night.

Wonwoo likes the pen. The cats are the most chill there, comfortable in their safe spot. When Junhui is held back at work before a date, Wonwoo will just hang out here with the cats, where they’re all content to hang out without actually interacting. Junhui jokes that Wonwoo himself has the soul of a cat sometimes.

Junhui looks uncharacteristically nervous as he brings over the large container of cat kibble. He doesn’t really look at Wonwoo, fiddling with the cover on the rectangular container.

“Junnie?” Wonwoo says gently.

Instead of making Junhui smile, the nickname has the waiter’s lips pressing into a thin line. Wonwoo is baffled; it usually never fails to elicit a smile from his kinda-maybe boyfriend.

Junhui clears his throat, frowning down at his feet. “Just – give me a sec. Could you wait outside?”

“Uh. Okay?”

Wonwoo officially has no idea what’s going on. Junhui is cagey, not really looking at him. He’s been acting weird since he walked off to go on his break. Nonetheless, Junhui looks really rattled, so he’ll give him some time to get his thoughts together.

He presses a hand against the gate, but rather than give under his hand, it holds steady. That – that’s not good. Wonwoo gulps, then presses against the gate again, but it refuses to budge. One more shove and he hears the gentle jingle of a lock against the metal.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo whispers to himself, eyes widening. He turns back to Junhui, who has his shoulders hunched. “Junhui?”

“I told you to wait outside,” Junhui sighs, an uncharacteristic twinge of irritation in his voice.

Wonwoo licks his lips nervously, tamping down the hurt that immediately wells up. “It’s not my fault,” he says immediately, holding up his hands innocently. “The gate is locked!”

“The gate is – what?”

Junhui storms up to the gate, rattling the lock viciously. There’s a hint of desperation as his fingers curl into the metal grates.

“Lee Jihoon,” Junhui barks as the blonde walks past. “Open this damned gate now!”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, twirling his keyring around his index finger. “No,” he says simply. Wonwoo winces as Junhui lets out an outraged sound. “Talk your shit out with him, Junhui.”

Without further explanation, Jihoon walks off. Wonwoo glances helplessly at the gate.

“Um?” Wonwoo says, for lack of anything to say.

Junhui lets out an irritated breath, throwing his hands up. “Just say it!”

“S-say what?”

There’s a suspicious shine in Junhui’s eyes as he glares at Wonwoo. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says. “That I’m not good enough for you and you’re breaking up with me.”

“I’m – why would I ever say that?”

The incredulity in Wonwoo’s voice takes the wind out of Junhui’s sails. Junhui’s forehead creases, lips pursing as he blinks rapidly.

Wonwoo barks out a short laugh. “Why would I break up with you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Aw,” Junhui says quietly. He lets a sappy smile loose before scowling. He points an accusatory finger in Wonwoo’s face – Wonwoo actually goes cross-eyes keeping that finger in his sights. “You said we need to talk!”

“Yeah? It’s ‘cause we do.” Suddenly, it dawns on Wonwoo. “Oh. Oh shit. Okay, I can see how that sounds.”

“Damn straight! I thought you figured out you’re way out of my league.”

“I’m out of your league? You’re out of my league! You – you’re – you’re amazing.”

Junhui’s cheeks redden as he sputters. It’s rare that Wonwoo catches Junhui off-guard. “Shut up,” Junhui mutters, but his lips curl into a satisfied smile.

It causes something in Wonwoo’s chest to tighten and he realises just how much he likes Junhui. Just because he doesn’t know what Junhui sees in him doesn’t mean he won’t hold on while he’s still got him.

They must look like idiots, standing in front of a locked gate and grinning at each other. They should probably do something about being stuck, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind standing close enough to Junhui for their shoulders to touch. If Wonwoo moves his pinkie an inch to the right, he could touch Junhui’s pinkie.

“I like you too,” Junhui murmurs eventually. His cheeks are still pink; Wonwoo decides this is one of his favourite looks on Junhui, even as his stomach lurches at the confession.

Wonwoo is not good at relationship stuff. He hasn’t really ever been in a serious relationship – the casual dating he did in college doesn’t really count – but he really wants things with Junhui to work out.

Confidence.

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, then blurts out, “Are we dating?”

Junhui doesn’t even blink. “Yeah, we are,” he says easily, like Wonwoo hasn’t been agonising about this for the past two weeks.

Wonwoo stares. He’s pretty sure his brain just broke down for a moment.

Junhui blinks this time. “Is – are we – I mean, I thought that was obvious. We go on dates and we text all the time and I send you memes.”

“J-just like that?” It wasn’t this easy in Wonwoo’s mind.

“Just like that.” Junhui chuckles warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in mirth. “I figured someone as smart as you would’ve figured it out by now. This isn’t exactly rocket science.”

“Rocket science, I get. This – what? Are you telling me I could’ve been kissing you all this time? And – and holding your hand?”

Junhui’s cheeks redden even further. “Do you want to? Be kissing and holding hands and stuff?”

“Fuck yes.”

Wonwoo probably shouldn’t sound so eager, but he’s wanted Junhui’s lips on him since the first time he kissed him on the cheeks. He wants to kiss Junhui and hold his hands and take him out on a million more dates. He wants to be his Valentine and secret Santa and everything in between.

Apparently, that’s all the permission Junhui needs, because he’s leaning forward and pressing his perfect lips to Wonwoo’s. Wonwoo is convinced he’s died and gone to heaven, because he hasn’t screwed up whatever it is between him and Junhui and they’re kissing.

There are fireworks and choirs singing. His hands are in the back pockets of Junhui’s sinfully tight jeans, pulling him closer so they can keep kissing. Junhui’s hands are in Wonwoo’s hair, messing it up and he’s totally okay with that. He can do whatever he wants to Wonwoo’s hair as long as they keep kissing and dating and seeing each other.

“So, uh,” Junhui says, when they finally pull apart, “I guess you’re my boyfriend now.”

Wonwoo makes a happy, delighted sound that sounds like the mating call of a whale.

“Dammit!” a new voice mutters. “I should’ve snapped a picture!”

There’s the muted sound of skin on skin, followed by a pained yelp. Wonwoo and Junhui turn to find Seungcheol and Jihoon on the other side of the gate, sitting at the table closest to the pen. Wonwoo wants to crawl under a rock and die from mortification, but he has a hand in Junhui’s back pocket and Junhui’s arm slung around his shoulders, so maybe it’s not so bad.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

Welcome back!!! Ask 5, #33 or #37, have u ever thought abt a hanahaki au? ;)

one day you will regret the things that you ask from me. i’m not sure today is that day, but i’ll try to make it so. since there’s no pairing stated, i’m gonna sprinkle in some of my fave ship with my fave boi and make it an ot3 for extra pain.

i’m gonna cram in a little hipster cafe au too, because why not.

#37: “Don’t! Don’t come near me!”

The first petal that falls from Seungkwan’s lips is yellow.

It’s yellow and its scent is mild. It looks almost pristine, innocently sitting in his palm after a cough that rattled Seungkwan’s insides. He stares at it – half in dread and half in confusion – before snapping out of it when Jeonghan calls for him. They’re in the middle of rehearsals, Jihoon handing them a new song to learn. There’s a duet for Jeonghan and Jisoo, a duet for Seungkwan and Seokmin and a solo for Jihoon. There is no time to ponder the petal, so he crushes it in his hand and prays it’s a mistake.

But of course it’s not a mistake.

It’s a chrysanthemum – yellow, for slighted love.

Seungkwan has chrysanthemums growing in his lungs, all for Jihoon.

It’s Jihoon – it has to be. Seungkwan has been nursing a crush on Jihoon, since the first day the elder set eyes on him on the streets of Hongdae and said, “You have a voice I’d love to write songs for.”

(Honestly, who even says that to people? Sure, Jihoon has this unnerving ability to be stupidly blunt all the time and have absolutely no shame about the things he says.)

It starts with a crush – a little spark of a crush that started because Jihoon is a songwriter and accidentally says pretty words to unsuspecting men. It’s a spark that bursts into a flame because Jihoon writes pretty songs that match Seungkwan’s pretty voice and Jihoon says cutting words but soothes them with cake and hot chocolate after.

The flame blazes and burns, scorching Seungkwan from the inside out. With every touch and gentle word, with time in the studio where it’s just the two of them and rehearsals where Jihoon’s focus is solely on Seungkwan, he aches and he longs and he loves.

Seungkwan always knew that falling for Jihoon would end in pain. He just didn’t expect it to end in petals filling his lungs.

In a way, it’s poetic; it’s a death that fits the artistry that encompasses every bit of Jihoon’s life. Of course he’d kill Seungkwan with pretty flowers too.

It’s when the white petals join the chrysanthemums that Seungkwan knows he’s well and truly fucked.

It takes him a moment to understand why the white poppy petals (consolation) join the chrysanthemum he’s still coughing out. He’s watching Seungcheol and Jihoon flirt in their unique way – Seungcheol calls Jihoon short and Jihoon calls Seungcheol an idiot, then they exchange secret grins that belie just how much they care about each other.

Seungkwan watches Seungcheol and his heart aches just as another cough wracks his entire body. He coughs out a handful of petals – and the first couple white petals mixed amongst the yellow sends shivers down Seungkwan’s spine.

He spends too long staring at the handful of petals – still a handful, because it’s been three days since the first petal – and jumps when Seungcheol wanders over, concern in his eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” Seungcheol asks.

Seungkwan immediately shoves the petals into his pocket, plastering a smile onto his face. “I’m fine, just a tickle!” He coughs again, a light fake thing to throw him off the scent.

Seungkwan nearly jumps again when Seungcheol leans in close and presses a warm hand to Seungkwan’s forehead. “Hm,” the elder hums, “you don’t feel warm.”

“I’m fine,” Seungkwan croaks, the lie as bitter as the petals are sweet when they rest on his tongue, right before he spews them out.

Falling in love with Seungcheol is like sitting in a pot of cold water being heated over fire. At first, their relationship is strictly employer/employee. Then, Seungkwan stumbles his way into the cafe after a shitty blind date Seokmin forced him on and Seungcheol is there. He’s there, with his warm smile and even warmer hugs. He offers Seungkwan coffee and a listening ear and suddenly, they’re friends.

They’re friends and Seungcheol hangs out with Seungkwan. They text and they have inside jokes. The next thing Seungkwan knows, Seungcheol is always there, with a quick smile and even quicker skinship.

Seungkwan doesn’t notice the water is boiling until he’s in too deep and he’s daydreaming of caramel kisses and quiet I love yous in the back room.

The thing about Jihoon and Seungcheol is that they’re the love story. They’ve known each other since high school and stuck together through college. They even set up a cafe together – Sweet Notes – and anyone with eyes can tell they’re in love with each other (even if they’re both oblivious fools).

There’s no space for Seungkwan between them.

He doesn’t even pretend there is. Seungkwan can’t bring himself to be that delusional. It’ll hurt him more in the end.

Of course, he can get corrective surgery. All it’ll take is one little procedure and the flowers will be gone. He can breathe and he can stop the pain – but it’ll mean he’ll never feel romantic love again. He’ll never feel the flutter of his heartbeat when Jihoon and Seungcheol walk in, the warmth that spread through his body when Jihoon smiles at him and tells him a job well done, the silent joy when Seungcheol wraps an arm around his shoulders.

Seungkwan has a brochure lying on his bed. A little brain surgery and he’ll never have to worry about unrequited love again.

It takes him a week before he throws it into the trash can.

It progresses fast. Too fast.

The body isn’t meant to withstand so much heartache. Unrequited love from one person is already bad enough. Most people can last maybe three months with hanahaki disease.

Seungkwan’s doctor says it’s a miracle if he’ll see the end of the month.

The chrysanthemums and the poppies grow in his lungs, feeding off his misery. It scares him, but he supposes it’s not really all that different from knowing the two men you love will never love you back, all because they’re too wrapped up in each other. Seungkwan can’t even resent them for it, because he’s stupid and in love. At least when he’s gone, they won’t mourn him. They’ll have each other, after all.

Seungkwan leans against the toilet bowl. He reaches up with a shaky hand, flushing the yellow and white petals down. His head hurts, a headache building behind his eyelids. He hasn’t been able to sleep, the coughing keeping him up. He’s stopped cleaning up the petals, the yellow and white scattered amongst his bedsheets. The crushed flower petals lend a sickly, floral scent to his home. He leaves them as a reminder – of his sentimentality, of his stupidity.

He can’t go to rehearsal today. He just can’t.

It takes him twenty minutes to drag himself out of the bathroom. Seungkwan collapses into bed and types a bleary message to… well, he’s not sure who. Probably Seokmin, who’s been nagging him about taking care of himself. Seokmin doesn’t know – no one knows, and he’d like to keep it that way. He hasn’t even told Hansol, who’s his best friend in the whole world.

Maybe he should. The doctor said he might not see the end of the month. He’s already two weeks in. Seungkwan toys with the idea of sending in his resignation and spending the next two weeks getting his affairs in order. He doesn’t have a will written up, but… well. It’s about time he thought about it.

He lets his eyes flutter shut.

The pounding at the door doesn’t wake him. The sudden bout of coughing does. He coughs and coughs, the cloud of petals that emerges enough to almost choke him. He’s drowning in petals and the door opens.

Seungkwan looks up, trying to make out the figure through the film of tears. He tries to cover his mouth, but the petals slip through his fingers, fluttering innocently in front of him. Crimson stains the yellow and white.

“Hyung,” Seungkwan croaks, curling in on himself as Seungcheol watches in horror.

“What the hell is going on here?” Seungcheol demands. He takes a step into Seungkwan’s room – his room with the flowers and the blood and evidence of his own failure.

“Don’t! Don’t come near me!”

“Seungkwan – ”

“Please,” he croaks. Copper and chrysanthemum rests on his tongue. He lets out a rattling breath, curling into a ball. “Please. Don’t come near me. I can’t – ”

“Can – is there anything I can do?” Seungcheol asks, a hint of desperation in his voice. He’s still in the doorway, keeping a respectful distance.

All Seungkwan wants is to burrow himself into Seungcheol’s arms and cry and cry. He wants to let himself be comforted, but Seungcheol’s isn’t his to have and he can’t stop thinking about (wanting) Jihoon too.

“No,” Seungkwan answers, burying his face in his hands so Seungcheol can’t see him cry. “Just – go away.”

“Kwannie – ”

“Go away! I don’t want to see you or – or Jihoon hyung. Get out!”

Those are lies. They tear at his throat and he’s not sure if the pain is from the flowers slowly killing him or the words he’s spitting out. He wants to see them. He wants to tell them the truth – I’m so in love with both of you that it’s literally killing me – just so they can pretend to love him for a little while.

Seungcheol stands in the doorway for a good long while, watching Seungkwan curl into a ball on his petal-covered bed. Then, he walks away. The door shuts behind him quietly and Seungkwan cries and cries.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

hiii if you're still doing ask game no. 2, could you do 10 11 and 13 for jihan and seokcheol? thank you

honestly this has taken me an eternity and a half to get to and i am so sorry, this is just my failing as a human being

also seokmin ships are my jam and you put seokmin AND seungcheol????? wow honestly you’re just like fulfilling all my guilty pleasures today

JiHan

10. Who finds it absolutely hilarious how ticklish the other is?

Honestly, Jeonghan strikes me as the type of person who is ticklish in exactly five places and Jisoo knows exactly where each place is. Like, I bet you Jisoo can find each tickle spot in the dark and he can attack it precisely to make Jeonghan fold into a gasping, giggling, convulsing mess. You can bet your pretty little heads that Jisoo finds it hilarious.

Jeonghan does not find it as hilarious. If it were literally anyone else, Jeonghan would not hesitate to stomp on a face or punch a dick. However... it’s Jisoo. So, you know. He gets to get away with some stuff. And honestly, with how Jisoo laughs when he gets to tickle Jeonghan, how can he say no?

11. Who likes to stay up late talking?

Surprisingly, Jeonghan does. If he can get to sleep early, then yeah, he’ll do it.

Sometimes, Jisoo has a conflicting schedule from him so on those days, Jeonghan ends up staying up late just so they can talk about their schedules and other things. Jeonghan also privately thinks that there’s something soft about the way Jisoo gets at the end of the day, after the makeup is washed off and the outside clothes are shed. He likes to card his hands through Jisoo’s hair and fall asleep to the sound of Jisoo talking about whatever his little head desires.

Jeonghan is just really soft for Jisoo okay.

13. Who always leaves their clothes on the floor?

It is definitely Jisoo because he seems to be as organised in his life as he is on reality shows – which is to say, not at all. Jeonghan’s tripped over Jisoo’s jeans more times they can count, but Jisoo’s also toppled over Jeonghan’s various lotions and stuff that he gets from Seokmin’s online shopping escapades a hundred million times so they’re just about even.

SeokCheol

10. Who finds it absolutely hilarious how ticklish the other is?

Seungcheol thinks it’s hilarious that Seokmin is as ticklish as he is. It’s not that Seokmin is super ticklish, but usually all it takes is a look from Seungcheol and Seokmin is giggling and trying to tuck his neck into his body like a turtle.

They usually end up on a heap in the ground, Seungcheol laughing as he tortures tickles Seokmin, who’s writhing under him and screaming his head off. Jeonghan and Jihoon bet that Seungcheol is actually deaf because he usually grins harder when that happens, whereas literally everyone in a two kilometre radius cringes. Love, amirite?

11. Who likes to stay up late talking?

Seokmin, Seokmin, Seokmin.

He knows he shouldn’t keep Seungcheol up, that his fierce leader needs all the rest he can get so he can watch over SEVENTEEN and lead them to greatness. Still, there’s something to be said about crawling into Seungcheol’s bed at two in the morning, after most of the members are asleep.

It’s the way the moonlight streams onto Seungcheol’s bed, illuminating Seungcheol’s hair and face. The rough gravel of his voice as Seungcheol hovers between waking and sleeping. The softness of Seungcheol’s sleep shirt and the gentle warmth of Seungcheol’s hand as he rubs Seokmin’s back.

More than just the talking, it’s the fact that they can have the time to just be together that Seokmin likes.

(Not to mention if he can manage a chuckle out of Seungcheol and watch the corners of his eyes crease, then Seokmin can sleep much better afterwards.)

13. Who always leaves their clothes on the floor?

Honestly, I feel like they’re both equally guilty of this. Seungcheol has literally a million and eight things to handle as overall leader and hip hop team leader, while Seokmin has that obsession with online shopping which means that if it’s not clothes then it’s all the boxes he leaves lying around.

Honestly, it’s a good thing Seokmin has his own room because if it weren’t for that, they would be arguing all the time about the mess both of them make. As it is, they bicker about it a fair bit, when they go into each other’s rooms and end up tripping over something or knocking into things. I mean, it’s not sexy when they’re making out and Seungcheol nearly yeets Seokmin across the room because he tripped over one of Seokmin’s boxes.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

btsvt-adventures reblogged your post and added:

U act like an alpha but I know u a beta bby ��

don’t go around exposing me like this, soo. i have a reputation D:

[svt-writers-club]

acoupofhanishunnamon reblogged your post and added:

I am definitely not gonna cry no ��

it’s okay, i won’t judge you if you cry

[svt-writers-club]

Ask games 5. #45, #46, Jihan, villains au 😇

i don’t actually understand why you guys like villain au jihan so much because they’re just about the dumbest, angstiest jihan i’ve ever written ever. you guys just like pain.

TRIGGER WARNINGS IMMINENT! if you’re triggered by/are not comfortable with blood, violence, gore and overall violent descriptions and imagery, then STOP HERE and move on to something else, thank you! (Feel free to message me if you think there are other trigger warnings I should add to this post)

#45: “Are you still a coward?”#46: “You did run!”

The bell hanging above the door chimes cheerfully. Jeonghan shoots it a glance, trying his best not to drip blood onto the wooden floor.

“Hello,” a cheerful voice calls out as a small body peeks out of the kitchen. “Welcome to Lee’s – oh, you have got to be shitting me!”

Jeonghan grins at Chan, raising a hand in greeting. Blood drips from his hands and arms, where the thorny vines are still wrapped. The warlock shoots him an annoyed look.

“Hey, Channie,” Jeonghan says, shaking off some blood just to irritate him further. They drip quietly onto the previously clean floor.

“What are you doing here?”

Jeonghan points at himself idly. His button-down and jeans are soaked in red, his silk vest (gifted by Jihoon) barely missing the bloodbath that is the rest of his clothes.

“I’m meeting Jihoon here,” Jeonghan answers absently, rubbing the copper-scented liquid into his fingertips. “He’ll be by in half an hour?”

Chan scoffs. With a wave of his hand, a chair slides towards Jeonghan, knocking into his knees and forcing him to sit. The warlock leans in close, eyes scrutinising him.

He pokes Jeonghan’s shoulder – hard. The plant manipulator hisses, vines slithering off his arms protectively.

“And how much of that,” Chan asks, poking Jeonghan’s shoulder once more, “is yours?”

Jeonghan glares at him mulishly. A vine slithers off his arm and circles around Chan’s wrist, the thorns pricking skin and making blood well up. Dino, the glamoured wolf, gets off her haunches and growls, snapping at the snake-like vine.

“Aw, ouch,” Chan says. He doesn’t sound like he’s in pain, turning his wrist to watch the vine writhe around his wrist. The pain isn’t nearly enough to alarm him, although his familiar is making a big fuss about it. “Dino, down.”

With a single breath, the vine shrivels and dies in a burst of flame. Chan passes a hand over the small puncture wounds, immediately healing them. Dino sniffs the ashes, then trots away to lick at the blood coating Jeonghan.

Jeonghan groans, then lets the wolf/dog do whatever she wants. Dog spit is better than drying blood, after all.

Chan cups Jeonghan’s cheek, tilting his head up so he can look at the bruise on Jeonghan’s cheek. He brushes a gentle finger against the discoloured skin. “Did you come here to heal?”

Jeonghan smirks, biting back a yelp when the simple action causes the broken skin of his lip to stretch uncomfortably. “Only if you’re offering,” he leers.

It’s not that bad, all things considered. He has a through-and-through bullet hole through his shoulder, from a rookie cop that came early and got lucky. She’s not so lucky now, though; the moment the bullet left her gun, vines strung themselves around her neck and choked the life out of her.

Dino cleans up all she can, then rests her heavy head in Jeonghan’s lap. The wolf likes Jeonghan, for some reason, although he has to wonder if it’s because she thinks he’s delicious. He scratches her ears absently, blood smearing the grey fur of her ears, but she growls happily. That’s a wolf who doesn’t much care for bloodshed – a perfect companion for Chan.

Chan disappears back into the kitchen. There’s clanging and banging as he does… something. Jeonghan’s not sure what it is he’s doing, but he hopes that somewhere in there, there’s alcohol.

Chan reappears with a steaming cup and a plate of sweet, chewy ddeok. He orders Jeonghan to eat, waving a hand over Jeonghan’s clothes so the blood seeps out of the fabric and into the air. It coalesces into a ball that Chan analyses with uncomfortable intensity.

“What’re you gonna do with that?” Jeonghan asks, words slurring together. The blood loss is finally catching up with him.

Chan shrugs, banishing the blood into a stoppered bottle. “Sometimes I need blood,” he says cryptically. He shoots Jeonghan an impatient look. “Drink your tea.”

“I’ll do what I fucking want, thank you very much.”

Chan pins him with an unamused gaze.

Jeonghan drinks the tea.

It’s just on the edge of hot, warming him from the inside. His shoulder tingles, then goes numb. He curses, his magic pulsing erratically at the sudden loss of sensation. His precious vines curl around his arm, slithering like snakes. Chan has never poisoned him before, but he should’ve known better than to let his guard down.

“I’ll kill you,” Jeonghan grits out. The warlock ignores him, pressing a hand to the open wound – a wound Jeonghan can no longer feel. There’s no pain, although there’s a pressure along his upper body that’s a testament to just how hard Chan is pressing down.

“Shush, I’m working,” the younger says, hand sparking with magics as he weaves a spell into Jeonghan’s shoulder. Jeonghan can’t feel the muscle knitting back together, but he can see it and it’s a disgusting and mesmerising sight.

At the end of the impromptu… healing, his shoulder is still numb, but there’s no more bullet wound.

Jeonghan grimaces. “I’m scared to find out what that cost me.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Chan says cheerfully. “In the meantime, I have another guest!”

The front doors burst open, the bell jingling merrily. The metallic scent of fresh blood follows acrid smell of burnt wood. Before Jeonghan can react, Jisoo is stumbling in with a semi-conscious Seungcheol hanging off his shoulder.

The plant manipulator scowls at the sight of his ex-lover. He glances impatiently at the clock; Jihoon is gong to take at least another twenty minutes, at this rate. He had known Jisoo and his merry gang of misfits were planning something today, but he hadn’t expected to run into him.

Jisoo stops short, calculative eyes falling on Jeonghan’s battered form. Jeonghan stares back impassively, chin jutted up defiantly.

“Jeonghan,” Jisoo says simply. Jeonghan hates the way Jisoo’s tongue curls around his name. “Are you still running around with Woozi?”

“Jisoo,” Jeonghan spits out, bristling at Jisoo’s familiar tone. “Are you still a coward?”

Chan watches the two exes interact, glee lighting up his deceptively innocent face. His gaze bounces between the two – at the faux calm of Jisoo and the sharp anger of Jeonghan. He licks his lips excitedly; the warlock has always been a sucker for drama, especially the animosity that lies between Jisoo and Jeonghan.

The door jingles once more. Chan perks up, meeting the newcomer at the door.

“Wonwoo hyung,” Chan purrs, leaning into the madman’s personal space. “My, what a strange crowd you’re walking with, hm?”

Wonwoo sweeps a disinterested gaze over the young warlock. He’s dressed in a crisp suit, hair gelled back. His expensive dress shoes squeak against the wooden floor of Chan’s humble tea shop. His cane taps against the ground, the jewelled head glinting in the low sunlight.

Chan gazes at Wonwoo like he’s starving and the only thing he wants to eat is Wonwoo.

It’s a shame Wonwoo couldn’t care less.

“You fucked up my bank heist,” Wonwoo says, voice carrying throughout the whole room. He raises an eyebrow, clearly addressing Jisoo and Seungcheol. “I should throw your little campfire into the ocean with a pair of cement shoes.”

“My apologies,” Jisoo answers coolly. He deposits the fire manipulator into a chair. “It seems our wires were crossed.”

Wonwoo glowers. He���s arguably the least powered person in the tea shop, but he’s also the only one with an absolute lack of morals. What he lacked in power, he made up for with sheer insanity. (Chan is in love with Wonwoo’s madness.)

“Next time,” Wonwoo says slowly, “I’ll make sure he eats a wad of C4 so I can paint my walls with his guts.” He lets the threat linger, then leaves without preamble. The tap-tap of his cane and shoes echo in the silent tea house.

“Huh,” Jeonghan says. He glances at Jisoo out of the corner of his eye. “So. You were running from him, weren’t you?”

Jisoo shoots Jeonghan a baleful look. “I was not.”

“You were,” Chan injects gleefully. “You did run!”

Jisoo answers with a frown and a curt, “I would like some medicine for Seungcheol, please.”

“I will poison him,” Chan says cheerfully, sweeping away into his kitchen of magic spells.

Jeonghan doesn’t want to be here. He rubs at his vines absently, turning to watch the entranceway. He just needs Jihoon to come sweeping in so they can go home and maybe, Jihoon will fuck Jeonghan hard enough that he’ll forget the way Jisoo tastes on his tongue.

“Jeonghan,” Jisoo says.

Jeonghan never finds out what that traitor could say to him, because Jihoon comes running in just then. The mercenary smells of gunpowder and hot metal.

“Come on, hyung, we have to go,” Jihoon pants. He barely spares Jisoo and Seungcheol a glance, too worried over whatever is chasing him.

Jeonghan does spare Jisoo a look. He holds Jisoo’s gaze as he leans down and kisses Jihoon, taking his time to savour Jihoon’s mouth. The younger sighs, rolling his eyes even as he opens up just for Jeonghan. They kiss and Jisoo’s gaze burns, but he does absolutely nothing as he allows Jeonghan to slip through his fingers again.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity ✨🌸

soojin keeps tagging me in things but i also keep responding to them (well i respond to them now at least owo)

1. watching SEVENTEEN do anything – literally anything

2. hanging out with my fur baby cat and her five kittens

3. stormy days where I can stay home so I just sit by the window with a mug of tea and do nothing

4. getting comments on my fics or headcanons owo (yes, i too am guilty of wanting to know what people think of stuff i write. the writer’s drug, feedback gasp)

5. all my followers :3c

none of these are in order, much like my life, which is also in disorder owo

anyway please go check out @btsvt-adventures for some heckin good writings and stream fear if you have the time uwu