#sorry these are all worded as questions I do that sometimes

[emotionallychargedtowel]

The em dashes in this example don’t exactly “belong” to Emma (the character) though, right? I’m pretty sure this is a summary of Mrs. Elton prattling. I guess I just don't want it to sound like they're Emma's responsibility, which adding them to her name seems to do. Unless they are her responsibility. Hm.

She is the reader’s point-of-view character. She's arguably the one who summarizes Mrs. Elton in this way. If she took Mrs. Elton more seriously it doesn't seem like her words would be summarized in this way. But then we’d have to read every word Mrs. Elton says here—verbatim. No thanks.

I was wondering if the reason Emma is such an em-dash outlier might be because of Mrs. Elton and/or certain other tiresome or longwinded characters (I'm thinking of Miss Bates, of course), along with Emma’s halfway listening to them.

So I cracked open my copy. And now I'm taking a perfectly good joke and turning it into a detailed discussion of my hyperfixation. Well, hopefully it's of interest to others anyway.

The short version of the answer to my question is that Emma's em dash quotient doesn't seem to be entirely, or even mainly, attributable to any specific character, including any propensity of Emma's as our point-of-view character. It's mostly just that Austen goes all out with the em-dashes all over the place. Now, I love em dashes and overuse them habitually. But the em dashes in Emma seem downright excessive to me.

Check out this bit where Emma and Harriet are looking at Mr. Elton's house:

“…there could be no possibility of the two friends passing it without a slackened pace and observing eyes.—Emma’s remark was— ‘There it is. There go you and your riddle-book one of these days.’—Harriet’s was— ‘Oh! What a sweet house!—How very beautiful!—There are then yellow curtains that Miss Nash admires so much.’”

They really are extraneous here.

At other points, they seem to serve the usual purposes in dialogue, like making a sentence into a sort of aside or showing when someone has been cut off by another person. And sometimes they accomplish other worthwhile things. For one thing, as in the Mrs. Elton summary, they often do the work of helping to condense a bit of small talk. There's also a part where Miss Bates goes off at length twice in quick succession, in which the em-dashes show how abruptly she jumps from one topic to the next.

Mr. Knightley's response when he thinks Emma is upset because of the revelation of Frank Churchill's engagement to Jane Fairfax makes good use of them in a related way:

"...[S]he found her arm drawn within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low, 'Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.—Your own excellent sense—your exertions for your father's sake—I know you will not allow yourself—.' Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued accent, 'The feelings of the warmest friendship—Indignation—Abominable scoundrel!' —And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, 'He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate.'"

The em dashes show the abrupt way he switches from one phrase or exclamation to another. If his tone is "steadier" at the end of this passage, the em dashes seem to show how unsteady he was at the beginning of it. He's not just changing his tack repeatedly, he's doing it because he's agitated.

So, yeah. Austen does some worthwhile things with her preponderance of em dashes in Emma. But for the most part, she was just wilding out.

An ode to em

One of the reasons that I love Jane Austen's work is that she loves an em dash. Just how much does she love an em dash? Behold:

That's right, baby—Emma has 3102 em dashes in it! Not hyphens—this is just the count of true em dashes alone. It's glorious.

Let's all bask in the em dashes in this famous Emma passage:

“The best fruit in England—every body’s favourite—always wholesome.—These the finest beds and finest sorts.—Delightful to gather for one’s self—the only way of really enjoying them.—Morning decidedly the best time—never tired—every sort good—hautboy infinitely superior—no comparison—the others hardly eatable—hautboys very scarce—Chili preferred—white wood finest flavour of all—price of strawberries in London—abundance about Bristol—Maple Grove—cultivation—beds when to be renewed—gardeners thinking exactly different—no general rule—gardeners never to be put out of their way—delicious fruit—only too rich to be eaten much of���inferior to cherries—currants more refreshing—only objection to gathering strawberries the stooping—glaring sun—tired to death—could bear it no longer—must go and sit in the shade.”

31 em dashes in that sequence alone! And that's not even the whole paragraph—there are 9 more em dashes in the rest of the paragraph before that quotation! Iconic.

[softlypaintedseafoam]

🍓ー thank you for your patronage at the strawberry witch’s bakery! here’s your order!

requested by: a lovely anon 🍓 -> law + strawberry tart (making up after a fight)

It's 2am when you drag yourself out of the sleeping quarters and Law is already in the kitchen. A small ache of discomfort forms in your chest, the two of you watching one another warily.

Your mouth opens, lips dry and stiff, but not one sound comes. Not a single word. With a grimace, your mouth closes again. It isn't until Law raises it that you notice the coffee pot nestled in his hands, "want a cup?" In spite of the question, his voice is strained and his brown eyes seem black.

It's bait, hesitant as it may be, it's bait.

Knowing this fact, it's difficult to make yourself ignore it and turn around promptly. Maybe it's how his eyebags seem more prominent in the Polar Tang's lighting and how his hair is messy at all sides. Law's isn't one who tosses and turns in his sleep. No, he sleeps much like a log once he's surrendered himself to sleep. A quick breath escapes you before you step forward, gently nudging Law away from the cupboards.

"2am isn't the right time for making coffee," you murmur, reaching for your collection of chamomile tea. "Doctors are the worst patients; you never listen to your own advice."

There's a pout in his voice when he replies, "I'm not sick, so there's no advice I'm breaking right now."

Your response is a subdued snort of disbelief. "Regardless, you won't get to sleep with coffee. We don't even have decaf." Another bold-faced lie that Law doesn't have the desire to press. The crew never buys anything decaffeinated coffee beans; it'd be a nightmare if Bepo and Shachi got their hands on anything but. "So put that thing down. Let the real kitchen master do their thing here."

With your orders, it's as if you're roles have switched and you're the captain of the Heart Pirates. Law steers clear of your way, far enough you won't bump into one another, but close enough. You don't feel the desire to snip at him because of it, not even as you awkwardly wait by the stovetop watching the kettle.

Close enough to feel one another's presence, but not so close you're pressing against one another either. Like there's an invisible line preventing the two of you from fully indulging in one another's touch. It's an uncomfortable feeling that not even a warming pot water can fix.

You're a couple that seldom has arguments. Regardless of how many battles you conquer, however, you'll never get used to this energy. You'll never get used to the feeling of not knowing how to function properly in this odd period after a fight's taken place. You wish your mind would stop going over the 'I could have done this differently's. You didn't do those things differently and no amount of reflection will take you back to that moment in time before things escalated.

A sigh escapes your mouth. There's no time like the present, at least. "Law-"

"I'm sorry," the dark-haired man says before you're able to truly start. You look to your left, eyebrows knit and lips pursed. "You were trying to help. I was being stubborn."

"I shouldn't have called you bullheaded and insensitive," you reply, your voice feeling too loud for the quiet of the kitchen. Even if Law can be stubborn, you know better than anyone Law is sensitive. There's too much care of his in that tall body of his than he knows what to do with. "I just worry sometimes that… you might go overboard. Like when you were dealing with Joker."

Separating himself from the crew to deal with the Warlord on his own was gut-wrenching on its own. Now with Wano on the horizon and an Emperor of the Sea along with it, your anxieties only feel heighten. "I just want you to rely on us more. We all do. No more trying to make yourself the only casualty; just trust that we'll be able to rise to the challenge once it's here. Please."

You're not sure what thoughts are swimming in the doctor's mind, watching carefully how his face contorts with your every word. Law cares. Too much at times. "I'm not asking you to change overnight," you start again, brushing the back of your hand against his. "But some baby steps would be nice, don't you think?"

His smile is tired but it can't hide itself, "baby steps are doable."

[rainytapestry]

⭑｡𖦹°‧ㅤㅤBLUE ㅤ— ㅤㅤjay x f.reader ㅤㅤ wc 0.7k

where your boyfriend always knows a way to make your worries melt away

★ — hurt/comfort angst estd. relation fluff academic pressure :( jay being the sweetest bf

you looked at all the books and notes spread out in front of you, and the painfully waiting cursor of the blank document, as if urging you to start the assignment. but it felt… all too much, too overwhelming for you to even think about your pending works.

and before you knew it, a tear dropped down on the page, staining your messy handwriting. good here it goes again. you were tired of feeling tensed and worried about your studies.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapid knocks and the bell. you turned to look at the time, 11pm. who could it even be at this late hour?

sighing, you got up to open the door before the person could ring the bell once more, only to be met with a very familiar face.

‘jay...? what are you doing here at this hour?’ you asked, unsure of how to approach the fact that your boyfriend was in front of your apartment at near midnight. the said boy who was standing quite tensed your doorstep, visibly frowned upon seeing you

‘yn, i was worried tensed! why did you not pick up my calls? you even left me on seen?! do you know how stressful that was? wait, are you…’ he trailed, finally getting a proper look at your face.

oh shit you had forgotten that your tears hadn't dried yet and he was met with a red and blotchy face.

jay quickly stepped into the apartment, his hands going up to your face, softly holding them.

‘what… happened?’ his voice was laced with concern. ‘uh, you were worried, for me?’ you refused to meet his eyes.

‘of course, babe! you are usually so active and present but all i have got are just a few messages and no calls, i thought you were sick!’ and his eyes held this earnest look, that almost made you want to start sobbing again.

as if sensing your emotions, he engulfed you in a hug and before you knew it, you were in his arms, tearing up yet again, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

‘i… i– i am sick, of this work and study and…’ you spoke through your tears, ‘jay, i don't think i can do this anymore, i feel so-so tired, it's…’ you could feel him rub small soothing circles on your back, nodding to your every word and never interrupting you, as if you could vent out all the frustration and pressure you had building in you.

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, slowly calmed you down as you broke apart to look up at him, with a small pout. you mumbled a small sorry.

jay broke out in a smile, caressing your cheek, ‘it's okay, yn, you've been so strong and dedicated. it’s okay to let yourself catch a break, hm? it's okay to feel sad and unmotivated sometimes, right? because i know you can do it.’

‘b-but i’ ‘ssh, i trust you.’ and maybe that was all you needed to hear.

you could feel a small smile form on your face, heart a lot lighter than it had been a few minutes ago. and you couldn't thank jay enough for it.

‘okayyy now let's see how my girlfriend is doing, secluding herself like a saint, tell me the last time you had eaten, yn?’ he questioned you in a serious tone. you knew how serious he could get if you neglected your meals.

‘eh, yesterday i think…?’ ‘i'm pretty sure it was ramen.’ you guiltily nodded.

jay shook his head, not surprised but placed a firm kiss on your forehead. ‘ok, so, you, my girl, are going to sit down and relax while i make you something healthy and edible to eat. okay?’ he said, more like commanded.

you blushed at his actions before following him to the kitchen.

it was a common routine you both had fallen into, jay would cook, you would, well… try to assist.

and even though, jay protested about you helping him, you shrugged him off, just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

‘and from now on, yn, please don't ghost me like this. i'm always here for you, love’, whispered close to your ears, pressing another small kiss to your cheek.

NOTES. hi i wrote this down cuz of the high level of procrastination and unproductivity ive been having despite my finals starting in a month :( it isnt the best feeling and i for anyone else who's going through the same, don't worry we'll get through this rough patch together >< tysm for reading this

div cttoㅤㅤ work belong to @ rainytapestry do not steal

[beomiracles]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 02

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

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

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

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

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

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

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Is everything alright?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re great company too, Huening.” 

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

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

⸝⸝ 

📼 — March 31st 2022 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead your shaky fingers begin to type out a reply. 

“Who is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh! It’s-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you get my number?” 

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

That should’ve been your second warning. 

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

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

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

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

Just looking at him right now made your head spin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? He your boyfriend or something?” 

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

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

“Bullshit.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is red his favorite color too?” 

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he still made you dizzy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, red is my favorite color.” 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 10th 2022 

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

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

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

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

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

“Why won’t you give me your number?” 

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

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

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

He shrugs, “Means I don’t got one.” 

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

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

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

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

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

⸝⸝

📼 — April 17th 2022 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸝⸝

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸝⸝

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 20th 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beomgyu had killed someone. 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 18th 2022 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist ✎... @liaatiny @izzyy-stuff @heeambi @saejinniestar @hyunelixbun @lunesdesire @n0-thisispatrick @lickingan0rchid @tyunderella @fancypeacepersona @hyunj00 @hwang-choon @soohashits @xylatox @lilbrorufr @ezeert @minji-willstay @yeoningz @beombunni @lickingan0rchid @buttrry @buttercreamerie @bangtanuniversa @dawngyu @shuichi-sama @sthwaaberry @leeminhosairfryer @v1shwa-xo @qeeun-didi @biteyoubiteme @alex-is-sleeping @melmochii @brrytears @sunpov @beommieternity @mrsjohnnysuh 

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[lucysarah-c]

Hii lovely. I love your posts! I have a bit of a NSFW question, what do you think Levis dick size is 😭 I've been thinking about it, cause he's kinda short so🥱 I hope you answer so BAAAD if you do, pls tag💗💗 keep up the good work!

Hi, sweetie! How are you? Oh, thank you so much for saying that-it truly means a lot to me.

Okay, controversial take, but I don't think Levi's height has anything to do with his dick. I know some people like to make that correlation-like, "Oh, he's short, so he must have a small dick" or whatever. But no, sorry to disappoint, that's not it.

How do I put this... Have you ever seen that video of Lionel Messi walking around? Because that man is short, but his dick is definitely not small, if you know what I mean.

I don't think Levi is huge huge, but he's definitely above average. I'd say somewhere between 17 to 20 cm -big, but not too big. At least from my personal experience, that's what I'd imagine. I also think it's thicker than long, very pale, with soft pink undertones, and kind of veiny, which makes it look even bigger. Basically, above slightly above average but good.

And if you've seen that Messi thing I'm talking about -it was all over my Twitter when I still had an account-you know what I mean. Height can sometimes be related, but not always. Coming from the girly community of a country with shorter men, I can tell you it's not a strict rule.

Anyway, I won't go on because I feel like I'm over-sharing at this point. Have a lovely day or night! Kisses!

Oh, and I'll be answering this one soon. Thank you for all your kind words-I hope you have a lovely weekend!

[evolnoomym]

🩵Wip Wednesday🩵

Well Hello everyone, after disappearing for a bit i thought it would only be appropriate to share all the recent wips. I’ve got some snippets and moodboards for y’all. Please enjoy 😉

Shoutout for the divider to @cafekitsune 🫶🏻

(As always, the snippets are nothing final and can still change)

First I’d like to introduce “Good Neighbor” a Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x F!OC Reader Fic, it’s inspired from my recent move in to my apartment.

You blink up at him, slowly, to look sexy and mysterious.

“You know,” you let your gaze drift down to his crotch, which is directly in front of you “as a thank you for being such a good and thorough neighbor you could test the bed with me?” You practically purr those words at him. But Joel is too much of a gentleman and still doesn’t take the hint.

“Darlin’ why would we need to do that? The mattress seemed pretty solid to me.” His friendly smile makes you want to punch him.

At this point you don’t know how much more clearer you’ll have to be. You had flirted with him all day, he even went along sometimes but then always returned to friendly chatter. You even question if you’re not pretty enough.

You had enough. “Joel,” you inhale and exhale dramatically to underline your frustration “I want to have sex with you, right fucking know, is that clear enough?”

He just stares at you for what feels like an eternity before slowing responding “Are you sure?”

Now you’re confused “What?”

“I mean you really wanna have sex with me?” As he’s pointing towards himself.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?” Does he really not know how incredible hot he is?

Next up we have Valentine’s Day Joel Miller for the Bouquets of Pedro Creativity Challenge by @happypedrohours 💐❤️

It’s a sorta part 2 of Neighbor!Joel Miller and it takes us on their first “official” Date.

The morning after, there’s a knock at the door around 10 am. When you look through the peephole it’s Joel, so of course you open.

“Hello Neighbor,” you smile cheekily remembering the events from the previous day, whilst leaning against the door.

“Good Mornin’, hope ya slept well,” now he’s matching your expression, probably thinking of the same thing.

“Wanted to know if ya would like to have breakfast at mine, since, you know, you don’t really have a kitchen.” Suddenly he seemed all shy and nervous looking at the ground and rubbing his neck.

“It would be an honor to have breakfast with you, Joel” you murmur as you step closer to him.

Then I have some Joel Miller Angst for y’all to balance the romantic vibes out. It’s for Freya’s @almostfoxglove Angst Writing Challenge

I don’t want to say too much about this but I will hurt y’all for sure with this one and also myself. The title is : “Can’t Catch Me Now 🕊️”🫠😨

The Moodboard is provided by the wonderful Freya as well. 🙏🏻

Joel doesn’t even attempt to get up. He just watches you demolish his truck. You break all the windows, one by one with that bat of yours. Once you’re done, you turn around heading towards him. Joel is actually convinced you might kill him with how much anger is radiating off of you.

“Baby, please let’s just talk ‘bout it, just give me a chance to explain?” He’s pleading with you.

You kneel down in front of him and spit at him “Listen, you dumb motherfucker, you will never ever see me again. And if you don’t stay the fuck away I’m gonna ruin your fucking life.”

You lean in further and almost yell at him

“You hear me, I’m gonna end you Joel Miller.”

Afterwards you get up and walk away, leaving him there on the ground wallowing in self-pity.

Also say hi to Emotionally Constipated!FOC x Grumpy!Joel Miller. 🩵😉

“Uhh, sorry. Tell me again why you think this is a good idea?”

“He is your type, older, and I thought maybe you two would get along?”

You shake your head “No, I think you want me to date your boyfriend’s brother so we can go to those awful double-dates. Fuck no.”

Maria lets out an annoyed huff “Would it really be so awful to finally stop these power games and trust again?” She knows that you want to be loved but she also knows that you can’t let someone in on an emotional level. It’s too much.

As you make the order for everyone’s drinks at the bar it doesn’t take much longer and you catch a gruff, more weathered version of Tommy swagger in. It must be Joel. He isn’t unattractive but he looks like an asshole and that is your kinda guy. Those are the ones you have the most fun breaking down, they deserve it.

And last but not least a nice Dave York Summer-Angst Fic. For the “writing through the seasons challenge ☀️” hosted by @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality

You two provided a wonderful moodboard but I couldn’t stop myself from creating my own 🫶🏻🫶🏻

“I needed to have you, my perfect, special and gorgeous girl. You are all mine.” To prove his point he holds up his hand, displaying the silver wedding band. Right, he married you, probably planned it all along to make it harder to get away from him.

Npt: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @thundermartini @encasedinobsidian @hellishjoel @pedrospookie @ozarkthedog @pedgito @punkshort @ace-turned-confused @sp00kymulderr @strang3lov3 @beefrobeefcal @penvisions @itsokbbygrl @burntheedges @sunshineispunk @tightjeansjavi @macfrog @toxicanonymity @chronically-ghosted @604to647 @syd-djarin @mountainsandmayhem @jeewrites @penascigarette @galway-girlatwork @amanitacowboy @mrsmando @pedrospatch @pedropeach @moonlitbirdie @ovaryacted @joeloverture @jolapeno @joelsdagger @sanarsi @cavillscurls @joelstummy @slimybeth69

[salty-autistic-writer]

Little Big Clingy Octopus

For @bucktommyfluffebruary, Day 4: "Clingy Boyfriends"

The break-up lasted an agonising long week. 

A week filled with baking. Crying. Aggressively knocking at doors until the neighbours looked out of their windows, shaking their heads. More baking. Crying. Screaming at each other. Crying together. Passing out in Tommy’s bed, exhausted. Drained of energy and words. Yeah. It’s been a ride.

Words were said. Boundaries were set. Questions were asked and answered. Issues, secrets, nightmares, dreams, fears and hopes were uncovered.

Once the storm passes, their world recovers and they start moving back towards each other. Carefully first, almost shyly, all too aware of the fragility of a moment. But soon enough, they fall into a familiar, yet new, rhythm and stop walking on eggshells.

In the aftermath, Tommy starts to ask for things he likes or wants with a confidence that wasn’t there before. He's not holding back anymore. It makes Buck feel warm inside. Everything is … softer now. Now and then, their hearts still remember the storm and remember old fears, but all the talking they missed in the early stages of their fast-moving relationship, they do now.

They are in bed, their bodies entangled in every way possible, warm soft skin pressed together. Tommy’s head rests on Buck’s arm, his eyes closed. The morning sun catches in his tousled curls, making them shine golden. His lips are parted slightly and his breaths even. Seems like he dozed off again.

Buck watches Tommy and he could stay here forever, but spots on his body start to tingle uncomfortably and he will need the toilet soon. Not right now though. Not while Tommy is clinging to him like …

“Like an octopus,” Buck mutters absently, chuckling as the picture of Tommy with eight arms forms in his mind.

“Hmmm?” Tommy stirs, raising his head from Buck’s arm and blinking sleepily.

“You remind me of an octopus when you’re like that. Did you know they have three hearts?”

“Oh. Wow. Must hurt so bad if they get broken,” Tommy mumbles. Then grimaces. “Sorry.”

“Are you alright?” Buck asks, noticing Tommy tensing slightly.

Tommy sighs. “Yeah. I just … had some dreams tonight. Of the bad kind.”

“Oh.” Buck swallows, thinking of his own nightmares. They still smell vaguely like lemon loaf and loneliness. He strokes down the curve of Tommy’s back.  “Don’t listen to them. This is real.”

Tommy smiles weakly. “Well. Me sometimes being an idiot is real too.”

“You’re my idiot. And I’m yours. Idiot for idiot.”

Tommy raises a brow. “Hm. I can live with being an idiot if I’m not the only one in the room, I guess.”

He flinches and chuckles when Buck pinches his side, snuggling even closer. Buck hums and buries his nose in Tommy’s hair, closing his eyes for a moment. Just feeling. Floating. Basking in warmth.

“This is not too much, right?” Tommy mutters, a hint of old insecurity in his voice. “You’d tell me if I’m too clingy?”

“You’ll never be too much. I have to pee though,” Buck says regretfully. “But I will come back.”

Tommy makes a sad noise. “What if I don’t want to let go?”

Buck grins. “My little big clingy octopus. You don’t have to. Hold on.”

“What - No. Evan, that’s not a good idea.”

“Come on. I want to try.”

“I have to show up at work tomorrow, Evan. I can’t break my back!”

“I won’t let you fall. What do you think all that weightlifting is for? Just hold on, okay? On three. One, two, three. See?”

(AO3 Link)

[marsdql]

through rose-colored glasses [P.SH]

toxic!sunghoon x naive!reader | synopsis: | wc: 2.2k | cw: Emotional manipulation, gaslighting, toxic relationships, possessiveness, abuse of power in a relationship, self-doubt , insecurity, mild violence (psychological), themes of control and dependency, the TINNIEST amount of fluff(if you squint), angst? I mean he’s toxic idk

The room was quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. You sat on the edge of the bed, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Sunghoon stood across from you, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes watching you carefully.

You had always been so soft—so trusting, so naive. It was part of what drew him to you in the first place. That innocent glow you carried, the way you looked at him like he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. It was intoxicating. But sometimes, it frustrated him too.

Because no matter what he did, no matter how many times he let his anger slip or his words cut too deep, you never saw him for what he truly was. You never questioned him. Never doubted him.

Even now, after the cold shoulder, the dismissive glares, the unexplained nights out—you were still here, looking up at him with those soft, wide eyes.

“Sunghoon,” your voice was quiet, hesitant, like you were afraid to disturb the peace. “Did I do something wrong?”

His jaw clenched, but his expression remained unreadable. “Why would you think that?” he asked, his tone flat.

You swallowed, fingers curling into the fabric of your dress. “You’ve been distant… I feel like you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re overthinking again,” he muttered. “I’ve been busy.”

Your lips parted, as if you wanted to ask more, but you hesitated. You always hesitated. You never wanted to push him too far.

“I just miss you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like you don’t talk to me the same way anymore.”

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, his grip on your chin tightening just slightly before he let go. “You’re too sensitive, angel,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I told you, I’ve just been busy. That’s all.”

You nodded quickly, not wanting to seem like you were doubting him. “I know. I’m sorry for overthinking.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his hand resting against the side of your face, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you said without hesitation.

He hummed, pleased with your response. “Then stop worrying so much. You’re too sweet for your own good, angel. You know that?”

You smiled faintly, relieved by the sudden shift in his tone. “I just love you,” you said softly, resting your hand over his.

Sunghoon chuckled, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “I know you do,” he murmured. “That’s why I keep you around.”

The words should’ve stung. But they didn’t. Because in your world, Sunghoon could do no wrong.

The first time Sunghoon ignored your texts, you thought he was just busy. The second time, you convinced yourself he had fallen asleep. By the third time, when hours had passed without a response, the uneasy feeling in your chest only grew heavier. But still, you didn’t let doubt take root. You never did.

You were patient. You were understanding. You were his angel, after all.

So when he finally showed up at your apartment at midnight, smelling like expensive cologne and something faintly unfamiliar, you didn’t ask questions. You didn’t push. Instead, you gave him a small, relieved smile, standing on your tiptoes to hug him.

“I missed you,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest.

Sunghoon didn’t hug you back right away. His hands rested lazily at his sides, as if debating whether or not he wanted to entertain this moment. Eventually, he sighed and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in just enough to make you think he cared.

“You’re so clingy, angel,” he muttered, pressing a slow kiss to your forehead. It wasn’t affectionate. It was just enough to make you melt in his hands, just enough to make you forget he had been ignoring you all day.

You giggled softly, not catching the edge in his voice. “I just love you,” you murmured.

He hummed, guiding you inside, his hand warm against the small of your back. “I know.”

You didn’t ask where he had been. You didn’t ask why he hadn’t answered your calls. You just curled up beside him on the couch, content in the simple fact that he was here now.

But Sunghoon had a way of making you feel small without even raising his voice.

“You really just sit here all day waiting for me, huh?” he mused, one hand running through his hair as he leaned back against the couch.

Your smile faltered. “I wasn’t just waiting for you… I was doing other things too.”

He smirked, as if he found your words amusing. “Like what?”

“I—” You hesitated. “I cleaned, and I read a little, and—”

“Cute.” His voice was dripping with condescension. He reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so innocent, angel. It’s kind of pathetic.”

The words should have hurt. But the way he said them—so soft, so teasing—made them feel almost affectionate. Almost.

You pouted, looking up at him. “That’s mean.”

Sunghoon chuckled, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him. “It’s the truth. But you like it when I’m mean to you, don’t you?”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You didn’t like it, did you?

“I just want you to love me,” you admitted softly, feeling vulnerable under his sharp gaze.

His smirk widened. “I do love you,” he murmured, leaning down so his lips ghosted over yours. “But you make it too easy. You’d love me no matter what, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded instantly, not even realizing how much power you had just handed him.

And sunghoon knew it—he always did.

Sunghoon leaned back against the couch, his arms wrapped securely around you as you slept against his chest. Your breathing was soft and even, your body completely relaxed in his hold. You looked so peaceful, so innocent—completely unaware of the conversation happening around you.

Jake smirked as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “She really knocked out on you, huh?”

Sunghoon scoffed, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. “Yeah. She was being a brat earlier.”

Jay raised a brow. “What’d you do this time?”

Sunghoon smirked, running his fingers lazily through your hair. “Nothing,” he said casually. “She just gets all pouty when I don’t give her attention.”

Ni-ki snorted. “That’s because you never give her attention.”

Sunghoon shot him a lazy glare. “I give her enough.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Dude, she worships you. You could disappear for a whole day and she’d still be waiting for you like a lost puppy.”

Sunghoon’s smirk didn’t waver. “That’s just how she is.”

Jay sighed, shaking his head. “And you take full advantage of it.”

Sunghoon shrugged, his fingers trailing down your arm absentmindedly. “She likes it when I baby her.”

Ni-ki gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, because she actually loves you.”

Sunghoon’s expression flickered for a brief second—too quick for anyone to notice. He glanced down at you, his fingers brushing over your cheek. You looked so small, so delicate in his arms. The way you clung to him in your sleep, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed—it was all so… vulnerable.

And the worst part? You trusted him.

Jake sighed, shaking his head. “One day, she’s gonna realize she deserves better.”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched slightly. He knew that. He knew that better than anyone.

Sunghoon’s grip on you tightened slightly, his fingers digging into your waist as if he could hold you in place forever. The thought of you realizing—really realizing—how much better you deserved made something dark twist in his chest.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Because you were too sweet, too naive, too desperate for his love to ever leave.

Jake’s words lingered in the air, and for a moment, Sunghoon just stared down at you, watching the way your lashes fluttered slightly in your sleep. He scoffed quietly, shaking his head. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Jay sighed, rubbing his temples. “Sunghoon—”

“No, really.” Sunghoon smirked, his tone dripping with confidence. “She loves me too much. She’ll always come back, no matter what I do.”

Ni-ki frowned. “That’s messed up, bro.”

Sunghoon just chuckled, his fingers ghosting over your cheek. “No, what’s messed up is how easy she makes it.”

Jay shot him a sharp look. “You’re seriously proud of that?”

Sunghoon’s smirk didn’t falter. “Why wouldn’t I be? She’s perfect for me. Soft, obedient, always waiting for me like a good girl.” He tilted his head, his voice dropping. “And the best part? She thinks I actually need her.”

Jake frowned. “Don’t you?”

Sunghoon hesitated. Just for a second. Then, his expression hardened, and he scoffed. “I could replace her if I wanted.”

The room fell silent.

Jay exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna lose her one day.”

Sunghoon smirked. “No, I won’t.”

Because you wouldn’t leave. You couldn’t.

Not when he had made sure you thought he was the best thing in your life. Not when he had spent so long making you believe that no one else would love you the way he did.

And if you ever tried to go?

Sunghoon would make sure you regretted it.

Sunghoon’s hands shifted from your back to your arms, giving you a gentle but firm nudge to get you to sit up. The sudden movement made your heart skip, the warmth of his embrace slipping away as you blinked up at him, confused.

“Hey,” you mumbled, frowning slightly as you pulled away from his chest. “What’s going on?”

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, but his expression was unreadable. He didn’t meet your eyes immediately. Instead, his fingers brushed through his hair before he looked back at you, his voice low.

“You need to get off me, angel,” he said, not unkindly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your stomach twist.

You blinked, trying to piece together why he was suddenly asking you to move. You didn’t like the way it felt—like you weren’t wanted anymore, like he had grown tired of having you so close.

You sat up fully, pulling your legs underneath you as you stared at him. “Why?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but your confusion was obvious.

Sunghoon leaned back slightly, his smirk returning as he eyed you up and down. “You’re fine now, right? You don’t need to be all clingy.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. Clingy? Were you being clingy? You had thought you were just being affectionate, just letting him hold you like he always did.

You bit your lip, trying to process the sharp sting in your chest. “I wasn’t—”

He cut you off with a soft laugh, the kind that felt more condescending than comforting. “It’s fine, angel. You know I care, but you don’t need to act like you can’t survive without me for five minutes.”

His words weren’t as harsh as they could have been, but the way they made you feel told a different story. You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into the fabric of your dress as you fought the sudden feeling of vulnerability washing over you.

“I don’t think I’m acting like that,” you whispered, voice small.

Sunghoon’s gaze softened just enough to make you feel like maybe you weren’t imagining things, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re fine. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t care. You could tell that, too—his tone still carried that possessive edge, but the warmth had shifted into something distant, something that made you feel… less important.

You nodded, feeling your stomach churn with the subtle ache of his push-pull behavior. You moved to sit beside him instead of on his lap, curling up into a ball on the couch to avoid looking too vulnerable.

Sunghoon’s hand reached out, briefly resting on your shoulder. “You’re good. Just give me a second, okay?” His voice had returned to that teasing, gentle tone, but there was still something off about the way he said it.

You nodded, trying to bury the feeling of unease gnawing at you. Sunghoon had a way of pulling you in and then pushing you away—always keeping you close enough to want more, but never really giving you what you needed.

And yet, you stayed. You always stayed.

[hansmic]

𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝒻𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓈

hyunjin x gn! reader

summary: you notice hyunjin doodling on a napkin at a café and asks to see what he’s drawing. It leads to a conversation about art, life, and dreams. you end up sketching together until the café closes.

genre: romance

warnings: none

word count: 963

————————————————————————

Hyunjin is scribbling away at a small paper napkin, a small pout on his lips as he concentrates on the image taking shape on the cheap paper. As he continues to doodle, he fails to notice that you are watching over his shoulder, silently observing his art.

Feeling your eyes on his work, Hyunjin glances up and catches you watching him. He chuckles sheepishly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Oh.. Hey," he says, a small smile on his lips. "Sorry, I didn't notice you there. Were you watching me draw?"

As you nod in response to his question, Hyunjin looks down at the napkin in front of him, his gaze darting between you and his art. He seems a little embarrassed by your attention, but also curious about what you think of his work. "Uh, yeah. I doodle when I'm bored," he says, gesturing to the napkin. "It's nothing special."

You can tell by his expression that Hyunjin is downplaying his talent, but you can also see the pride in his eyes as he looks at the napkin. He hesitates for a moment before offering it to you. "Here, you can take a closer look if you want," he says, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Thanks," you say, taking the napkin from Hyunjin's hand. You carefully examine the drawing, taking in all the small details and the way Hyunjin's unique style shines through.

"It's really good," you say, looking up to meet Hyunjin's eyes. "You're very talented. Do you do art often?"

Hyunjin's cheeks turn even redder as you compliment his art, and he ducks his head sheepishly. "Thank you," he stutters out, a small smile on his lips. "And yeah, I draw a lot actually. It's kinda like... my escape, you know?"

He looks up at you, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "It's just... sometimes it's easier to put my thoughts and feelings down on paper than to try to explain them with words," he says, shrugging slightly.

"I totally get what you mean," you say, nodding. "Art can be a really powerful form of expression, and it's often easier to pour your emotions into a drawing than to talk about them."

As you speak, you can see Hyunjin's shoulders relax a bit, as if he's glad to have found someone who understands his love for art.

Hyunjin nods, his smile growing a little more confident. "Exactly," he says. "And it's like... when I'm drawing, I don't have to worry about what anyone else thinks or how they'll react. I can just let my mind wander and create whatever I want."

As you continue to talk about art and Hyunjin's passion for drawing, you can sense a connection forming between the two of you. The conversation flows easily, and Hyunjin seems to open up more and more with each passing minute.

As the café begins to empty out, Hyunjin glances out the window and realizes it's getting late. "Man, I didn't realize how much time had passed," he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I guess we got pretty caught up in our conversation," he adds, a hint of a blush returning to his cheeks. He looks at you awkwardly for a moment, as if he wants to say something more but is hesitating.

You notice Hyunjin's hesitancy and try to ease the awkwardness a little. "Hey, I really enjoyed talking to you," you say, a warm smile on your lips. "It's been a while since I've had a conversation this good."

Hyunjin smiles back at you, his expression softening. "Yeah, me too," he says. "I don't normally open up to people like I did with you. But... I don't know, there's just something about you that makes me feel comfortable."

He looks at you for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, and you can feel the air growing tense. It's like there's a silent understanding passing between the two of you, a hint of something more than just friendship.

"You know," you say, your heart rate picking up slightly. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you. Maybe... we could do this again sometime?"

Hyunjin's eyes widen slightly at your suggestion, and he nods quickly. "Yeah, definitely," he says, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I'd really like that."

He pauses for a moment, as if he's trying to gather the courage to say something else. "Maybe... we could exchange numbers?" he says, a hopeful look in his eyes.

You smile at Hyunjin's suggestion, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Sure, that sounds great," you say, pulling out your phone. You exchange numbers with Hyunjin, saving his contact information in your phone.

Hyunjin grins as he adds your number to his contacts, his fingers moving quickly across the screen. "Great," he says, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "I'll text you later, okay?"

The café is nearly empty now, signaling that it's time to leave. Hyunjin gathers his things and stands up, looking at you with a warm smile. "I guess I should get going," he says, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You stand up as well, feeling a pang of disappointment that the night is coming to an end. "Yeah, me too," you say, a small sigh escaping your lips.

There's a moment of silence between the two of you, neither of you quite wanting to leave. Hyunjin shuffles his feet awkwardly, his gaze flitting around the nearly empty café before settling back on you.

"I... I had a really great time tonight," he says, a warm smile on his lips.

You feel a wave of butterflies in your stomach at his words and return his smile. "Me too," you say honestly. "I'm really glad I met you, Hyunjin."

————————————————————————-

hope you liked it!

masterlist is here!

[storytellingbadger]

Hey little curious question for celestial phenomena.

Sun, has called New Moon / Nexus his twin.

But he also seemed to have called Old Moon that?

So...now that he is back...how is this part going?.

Cause I can't imagine nexus and old moon calling each other twins?

...I bet Old Moon had quite some feelings about Nexus Bering called Suns twin

It's fine if you don't have a answer, just kinda curious

Hello and thank you for the ask!

This is a good’un. Apologies for the essay.

Old Moon’s in a pickle and has no one to blame but himself, which means his margin for complaining is very small. He chose to “die” and swap in New Moon (let’s just call him Nexus herein for clarity). He chose to sacrifice himself and, consequently, forfeit his position in the family and abandon Sunrise.

Now he’s back, having been instrumental in rescuing Sunrise, Solar and Swift. But he can’t just pick up where he left off because so much has changed. Killcode and Bloodmoon are part of the family. They have a sister. Chaos abounds on a daily basis, but they’re happy.

Old Moon meant for Nexus to be better than him. Better person, better brother. But the reality of coming back and finding that Nexus speedran the mission and has a special bond with Sunrise is, selfishly, a bitter pill for Old Moon to swallow. Nexus struggles hard with feeling inferior to Old Moon, but Old Moon secretly feels the same way about Nexus.

Which brings us to Sunrise. Old Moon loved his twin and would’ve died for him, but he didn’t treat him well. Now he’s in a position where if he reverts to old habits - ignoring and bullying, using the killcode voice, “test subject” treatment, or whacking sticks, etc - there would be hell to pay. The family won’t tolerate it, never mind what Solar would do. And Solar’s a hell of a shock to the system - Sunrise has ended up with an eclipse-model, of all things. Someone clever and steadfast who won’t take any of Old Moon’s nonsense, and won’t allow Sunrise to slip into old doormat habits either.

So Old Moon has to share Sunrise in a way he never had to before. He has to compete for his time, approval, affection, everything. He’s no longer the centre of Sunrise’s world.

Long story short in answer to your question - Sunrise sees both Old Moon and Nexus as twins to him. Not in that they’re the same person, but they’re both closer than brothers. Old Moon and Nexus however do not think of each other so fondly. For a long time they’re not even friends, they just happen to share a twin. They’re both sometimes incredibly stubborn and childish about it and compete for “best twin” position. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s horrible and hurtful. It’s a work in progress.

Ultimately, Old Moon is hurt and bitter than Sun calls Nexus his twin too, but he also knows that it’s his fault, and therefore can’t say a word about it. He made Nexus, so now he has to share.

Thanks for the ask! Again, sorry for the mammoth response XD

[leafatlaw]

Thinking about nothing in particular but parkour civilization worldbuilding... Do young kids dare eachother to travel out further and further from the main living area? Do teenagers dare eachother to jump for the beef ? Do friends or family jump for food for others when there sick or too young to jump for themselves ? This is all abput the noob level sorry because I assume it would be the most populated (even if thats not strictly true in canon). Are the parkour noobs amazed by the pros that come down from oh so far above, bringing food and tickets down ? Do young kids follow them around excitedly all the way to the parkour back up ? Man I could go on

[kwillow]

REAL Theo romancers know that the best Theo route is balancing between flirting with him and pissing him off/j

That's the spirit!

(But I do feel the need to emphasize again, just in case, that the romance system in Wishbone is an extremely extremely extremely small part of the game. The next demo will contain dozens of cutscenes and quest-lines and only one of them briefly touches on a potential romance about 1/4 of the way through and then there's no more romance content in the remaining hours of the demo. I don't want people to play the game expecting a love sim and be disappointed when it's about farming, doing chores for weird townsfolk and shaping the melodramatic cowboy plot instead. :'D)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[flufflecat]

can writers stop amounting their characters to such a husk of themselves that them literally killing themselves for no reason is considered a good death

[pa-pa-plasma]

sorry for sending you an ask about this but i saw your tags on the warrior cats post about neutering and i just wanted to let you know that they actually do take away the cats balls, they leave the sack but the balls are what gets removed. eventually the sack shrinks and like goes away because of the lack of nuts inside. so i guess bluestar did know what she was talking about in the end

this is. literally what i said. also, i've had neutered male cats with balls (or a sack as you put it, i am using informal words here) that you can see. which is. where i'm getting my information from. btw.

so. Bluestar still had to have looked at a lot of kittypet ass very closely to figure this out.

plus, gonna reiterate, we should also consider that this series just isn't very well written. in all seriousness, as a writer myself, Warriors is a badly written series that should have ended over a dozen books ago, with authors who make shit up & don't bother to communicate with each other about their new headcanons & characterizations. not shitting on it (i love Warriors) but we should remember that there's like a million orange female cats & calico/tortie male cats, Graystripe's parents are siblings, & nothing actually killed Firestar on his last life, he just dropped dead randomly for the drama.

it's fun to speculate, but also Bluestar was just saying that shit about the cutter cuz of Rusty needing a final push to leave his twolegs. it was entirely for plot reasons & the authors never actually did research to make anything in this series accurate.

[pygmi-says-hi]

STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Bleeding:

Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.

It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.

Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.

blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.

it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.

Stab wounds:

I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.

also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.

if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)

whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites

Concussion:

despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.

if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.

Fever:

you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:

sluggishness

seizures (severe)

inability to speak clearly

feeling chilly/shivering

nausea

pain

delirium

symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.

ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.

fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.

keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you

ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:

YOU DIE AT 85F

sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.

pt 2

also please stop traumadumping in the notes/tags, that's not the point of this post. it's really upsetting to see on my feed, so i'm muting the notifs for this post. if you have a question about this post, dm me, but i don't want a constant influx of traumatic stories. xox