#stranger things x the Blacklist

[mrsjellymunson]

Hey, Boss

A prequel to Hello, Stranger

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington, Mr Kaplan, Dembe Zuma

Pairing: None until the next part (where it becomes Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

AU: Stranger Things AU with elements of The Blacklist

Summary: Eddie falls into a new line of work…

WC: ~3.9k

CW: 18+ MDNI. This miniseries is SFW, depending on your tolerance for dark/violent themes, but most of my blog is 18+ so minors please be aware of this and DNI. Dark humour, black comedy. Allusions to drug use, alcohol consumption, violence, crime and murder. Weapons, bodies and death are discussed. No smut, no reader in this part. This is a Stranger Things AU, the upside down is very briefly alluded to but Eddie doesn’t know about it. No time period mentioned, so if events or technology don’t track that’s why that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. The characters don’t know each other like they do in ST.

A/N: This is the prequel to ‘Hello, Stranger’. The two parts can be read in either order. As in the original part, there are some Easter eggs in here, this time from The Blacklist (obvs), Stargate, and a deliciously niche one from John Wick. Let me know if you spot any!

A/N additional: I would never have believed that I’d be revisiting this story a year after publishing it to add a fun little prologue, but here we are! 😃 The original part was written for a Halloween prompt event last year and was the first lengthy thing I’d shared; I was SO ridiculously nervous about posting it, you have no idea 🫣 Reading it again now, would I change things in the original? Yes. But mainly things like punctuation and formatting, because I think over the last year my writing has become clearer, so I’m kinda pleased that I’d leave the story exactly how it is. For anyone discovering this for the first time, I hope you enjoy!! Please let me know with a comment/reblog/feral spewings in my inbox, I’d love it, srsly 😉🖤

I have an Easter egg reveal post planned for this miniseries, if you’d like to hear about it just ask to be added to my general taglist where you can get notified about all my writing posts ☺️🖤

My masterlist

It’s a chilly October night, close to Halloween, and Eddie’s blasted out of his mind. Gareth got hold of some super strong skunk from a cousin who was visiting from out of state, and that combined with a few cool beers has left him even more buzzed than usual.

Forgoing his van on the insistence of his friends, and wanting to get home to the relative warmth of the trailer sooner rather than later, he’s decided to take a shortcut across Merrill Wright’s fields.

High as all hell, he's staggering as he navigates the pumpkins, managing to avoid most of the obvious orange orbs but forgetting that their tendrils need looking out for too.

He’s already tripped a couple of times, and curses out the vines for both being invisible at night and clearly conspiring with each other to sabotage his journey home. He swears that at least twice he’s seen them move...

Pushing through a thin layer of trees separating one field from the next, he stumbles forwards as an impeding branch snaps and gives way. Moving too quickly to stop himself, he totters forwards, hoping to regain his balance once he’s free of the spindly foliage.

But surprisingly, his feet fail to connect with anything at all, the ground disappears, and Eddie falls face first into… nothing.

Though it doesn’t remain nothing for long, swiftly becoming the harsh smack of hard, and very cold, dirt against his knees, torso and face.

Shocked, confused and more than a little winded, Eddie grunts and rolls onto his side, groaning. 

“Oooooohhhhhh fuuuuuuuckk…. What the hell—?”

He spits out a few clods of mud, and possibly part of a worm (sorry, dude), and tries to work out what just happened.

His hair has fallen over his face, and he pushes the waves, now bedecked with a sprinkling of leaves and soil, out of his eyes and looks upwards. 

Instead of the expected expanse of the clear night sky, perhaps even a few constellations if he cared to look carefully, his vision seems to have tunnelled, a significant proportion of it now a deep black. 

Sitting upright, he briefly wonders whether he’s concussed, or worse, but then the sound of someone speaking garners his undivided attention.

A light, high voice cuts through the night. 

“Hey, do you hear something?”

Eddie freezes, eyes wide. He’s not sure whether he’s comforted or more freaked out to discover he’s not the only one in this field at this time of night. This dark, isolated, middle-of-nowhere, nobody-within-screaming-distance field.

Another voice, deeper than the first, replies, 

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a grunt maybe?”

“A grunt? Uhh, no.”

“Why am I asking you anyway? Your ears are shot after one too many sportsball encounters…”

“Hey, shut up.”

Eddie hears some shuffling and a chortle, like two people jostling each other, before the deeper voice speaks again, but it’s in no way comforting.

“Uh, this guy’s definitely dead, right?”

There’s a noise that sounds like thick plastic being prodded with something.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy definitely. But I’m sure I heard something from over there.”

“Are you trying to spook me? You know how much I hate Halloween.”

Eddie hears an overly dramatic brrr and the rustling of clothing, and he imagines the guy shivering, like he’s shaking off a covering of non-existent snow.

Eddie, terrified but with a new sense of urgency, and eyes adjusting to the new level of darkness, glances more fully around his environment, figuring out that he’s definitely below ground level and in some kind of a hole. He spreads his arms wide, moving them around, and notices he can feel the edges on two sides, but not all four, meaning it’s a long hole. Long enough for him to lay down in. A hole, long enough to fit a human being in, but not much else. Okay, so… 

Wait, this is a fucking grave! Fuck, he’s in a goddamn motherfucking grave!!

Eddie stands, wobbling a little, and notices his eyeline is still below ground level. He reaches up, grabbing at the soil at the edge of the hole, but it’s dry and loose and crumbles in his hands. He tries to jump, grabbing at anything he can find on the ground, but to no avail. It’s tilled earth and there are no branches or roots, not even grass, that he can grab to pull himself out. He mentally takes back everything he said about pumpkin vines…

Suddenly he hears a dull thud, the sound of dragging, muttering, and two people grunting. 

Shit, they’re getting closer. And now there’s a large package wrapped in blue plastic at the edge of the hole, and they’ve just dropped two shovels, and—

Feigning nonchalance, Eddie leans a muddy shoulder against the raw earth, one hand on his hip and the other swiping through his hair as two faces, backlit by moonlight, hove into view. His voice cracks with,

“Hee-eeey guys, how’s it goin’?”

What the hell?? He’s literally standing in an open grave, that these two have probably just dug, and that’s the best he can come up with?

The figures regard Eddie, then turn to each other, then look back at Eddie. They both frown and in unison cock their heads sideways in the same direction, and Eddie, stoned and in shock as he is, has to suppress a giggle. 

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Damn you, Gareth’s cousin!

One of the figures, the slighter of the two, gestures into the hole with a muddy, gloved hand, asking, 

“Is he one of yours?”

The other guy looks both startled and mildly offended.

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there was that one time where you, y’know, missed the mark, and we had to spend an hour chasing the guy before we put him down.”

The taller of the two flaps his arms exasperatedly, trying to point an index finger in the air but failing, the heavy duty gloves he’s wearing making him look more like he’s holding up a fist.

“One time! The one time I miss a goddamn artery and you’ve never let me live it down. Jeez man, gimme a goddamn break!”

“Okay, okay, I’m just sayin’”

“Well don’t! I don’t appreciate it when you criticise my abilities and undermine my self esteem.”

The slimmer figure speaks again, resting the knuckles of one gloved hand against their waist.

“Did your therapist tell you to say that?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s helping me process my intergenerational trauma and internalised lack of self-worth.” 

The tall figure says the words like he’s reciting from a book, but he says them with conviction. Eddie briefly wonders whether he should ask the guy for the title. He finishes with, 

“Anyway, I don’t know who the fuck this asshole is.”

Hands now on his hips, he turns his attention back to Eddie, who, whilst they’d been talking, had been surreptitiously clawing at the back edge of the hole, trying desperately to lever himself out.

The figure with the higher voice turns to their compatriot, and with a somewhat sardonic tone to their voice remarks,

“Well, I suppose we’d better try and find out who this asshole is, and where he came from, huh?”

They lean forwards into the hole and brace themselves with their hands against their knees.

The skinnier figure begins the interrogation with,

“Did Andrea send you? Was it Annie?”

The taller guy continues,

“Wait, was it Red? Cuz if it was Red you can tell him it’s not fuckin’ funny…”

Eddie stammers,

“N-n-o, man, no. I don’t know who any of those people are. I’m, uh, I’m nobody, literally! I was just stoned, and walkin’ home and I, uh, just kinda, fell into this… whatever this delightful arrangement is.”

He gestures around him, attempting to convey that he neither knows, nor cares, exactly what this is.

Tall guy regards him down his nose.

“So, if nobody sent you, then nobody knows you’re here. But now you know we’re here. And I’m guessing that you’re guessing what we’re about to do here. So, I’m guessing the best thing all the way around is if you, y’know, stay here…”

Eddie, in his inebriated state, didn’t completely follow what this guy just said, but when the guy reaches behind him into his belt, and Eddie hears the unmistakable metallic clink of a gun being retrieved, he gets the message pretty damn quickly. 

The shovels, the ‘package’, the gun… oh god!

“Nonononono! Waitwaitwait!!”

He extends his arms and frantically waves his filthy hands in front of him in supplication. 

Think, Eddie, think!! What would you encourage the sheep to do in such an impossible campaign situation? Thiiiiiiink!

The guy levels the gun at Eddie’s head. He still can’t see their faces clearly, but he can most certainly make out the end of the barrel as it glints in the moonlight.

Eddie scrunches his eyes up tight, grimacing, every muscle in his body tensing in expectation of the horror to come.

Abruptly, his mind fills with the most bizarre and inspired creative idea that he thinks he’s ever had.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Thank you, Gareth’s cousin!

“What if I told you I could help make your job easier? Maybe more enjoyable? Or, at the very least, more interesting?”

He sees the barrel of the gun lower ever so slightly. 

Oh good, now it’s not aimed at his head. Just at his chest. Progress?

He presses on.

“Your bosses want you to make people disappear, right? Boring, efficient, sure. But not that interesting. Probably doesn’t pay all that well either, huh?”

The two figures look at each other again, frowning, and Eddie’s pretty sure they're deciding whether they should let the guy in the hole keep talking, or just shut him up for good, drop the other package in and cover them both over.

“How about we give ‘em a little something extra first? Like a show? A demonstration. An exhibition, if you will.”

Eddie’s got into his stride now, and is walking up and down the length of the six foot hole waving his arms in wide arcs, as if he’s delivering one of his lunchtime diatribes on a canteen table.

“Say there’s some guy who’s been messin’ with your patch. Goods are goin’ missing, or his funds are coming up short. Sure, you could just pop a cap in him and stick him in the ground,” 

He glances nervously at the tarp-wrapped bundle, 

“But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to really teach him a lesson. Bury him at the four corners of the state? Spray him all over this field? Dissolve him ‘til there’s nothing left? Now that really sends a message, don’tcha think? Plus, it’d sure be entertaining for your bosses to watch. Must get pretty boring for them. Y’know, pop a guy, wrap a guy, pop a guy, wrap a guy…”

He regards the two heavies carefully, trying to judge whether he’s made any impression on them whatsoever. They’re looking at each other and then back at Eddie.

Eventually the bigger figure speaks.

“Whaddaya think, Rob? Shall we take him back to talk to—“

“Fuckssake Steve, don’t tell him my name! Ah, fuck, Jeez…”

Sighing, the figure turns back towards Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, if this is as revelatory as you say it is, then fine. But it better be. Don’t make us come back out here for a second time tonight.”

Eddie takes this threat very, very seriously. 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear.”

The figure pauses for a moment, contemplative, before puffing out a long breath from between their lips.

“Well, for a start you can help us finish up with this guy. Steve, get him out of that hole and pass him my shovel...”

Eddie’s only thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not right now…

———

An hour later, freezing, muddy, exhausted, still terrified and, incongruously, still a little stoned, Eddie walks between Rob and Steve back to their vehicle, an SUV that he notices has “Buckley & Harrington, Landscaping Services & Specialised Waste Disposal” emblazoned on the side. 

‘Specialised waste disposal’ indeed… 

They bundle Eddie into the back, Rob grousing the whole way, and make him lie under yet another blue tarp so he can’t see where they’re going. He doesn’t much like being on this side of the plastic, and dearly hopes it’s the only time he has to experience it.

After some time, and a number of bruises acquired from sliding around the truck bed, the truck stops and the two figures start to bundle Eddie out of the back.

Still partially under the tarp, Eddie sees the lower half of a large, heavy set man in military fatigues and combat boots join them outside. Still shaken from the evening’s events and disoriented from the uncomfortable journey, Eddie can’t quite make out their entire conversation. He does hear what the hell and let me explain, plus a lot of grumbling in what could be a West African accent.

Finally freed from the tarp, Eddie is grabbed by the shoulders from behind by a pair of very strong hands, dragged off the truck bed and shoved, stumbling, forwards.

The three figures walk him into an old warehouse, the huge shutters open to the night and the entire place brightly lit and remarkably active given the hour. It’s crammed with pallets, shelves, crates, people and machinery. There are forklifts lifting things in and out of trucks and people carrying paperwork and speaking on phones. Many seem to have ominous-looking bulges in their waistbands and jackets that Eddie really doesn’t want to become any more closely acquainted with.

A large man is barking orders and holding a mug that says coffee and contemplation on the side, but judging by the subtle wince that happens each time he takes a swig, Eddie suspects it contains something stronger than his favourite Java. His voice is gruff, and to his great surprise, Eddie recognises it. 

“Uh, Hopper, is that you?”

The man turns, frowning at first, but as he clocks Eddie his free hand flaps dejectedly at his side and his eyes roll up into his skull. 

“Oh Jeez. What the hell is he doing here? What have you two idiots done now?”

Eddie's new acquaintances look sheepishly at each other. The one named Rob ventures,

“Uh, he has a proposal for Red, something about a novel business idea?”

“Goddamnit, I know this guy! And now, thanks to you two bozos, he knows me too!”

Steve interjects this time,

“Just give him five minutes with Mr Kaplan, boss! Honestly, I think Red’s gonna love this.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced, but he grabs a guy with a clipboard as he scurries past and asks him to find whoever Mr Kaplan is. Eddie doesn’t like the sound of this. The dude sounds pretty scary.

After no more than a minute, a small, tweed-clad lady appears. She’s older than everyone here, and her face is pinched, but somehow also looks kind. Eddie imagines she’d look far more at home in a library than… whateverthisis. He wonders if she’s Mr Kaplan’s secretary, or something.

“Come on then you two, spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

The two stammer and splutter their way through an explanation, trying to justify why they not only spared this guy, but also brought him back to their base of operations. Eddie finally comprehends that this is Mr Kaplan. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more terrified.

At various points Mr Kaplan sucks in her cheeks, tilts her head and folds her arms, reminding Eddie of every disapproving teacher he ever had, and more than once he considers how far he might get if he hightailed it through those large doors and made off into the night. But then he remembers how he got here, who he’s with, the amount of hardware everyone appears to be carrying, how often he skipped PT at school, how much he’s smoked this evening (not to mention over the last however many years), and, not least, the fact that he has less than no clue about where he actually is. 

Finally, the two cronies stop talking, and Mr Kaplan’s focus turns entirely to Eddie. Despite being significantly taller than she is, he feels about two feet high under her gaze, and that this moment could be about to define his future, his fate.

“Well, dearie, it’s certainly a unique proposition. And one I’m intrigued to see if you can pull off. But ultimately, it’s not my decision. All I can do is get you a meeting with Red, and then you’re on your own.”

Steve seems thrilled by this outcome, his eyes wide and a grin on his lips. He shifts in place excitedly and jovially taps his elbow against Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie side-eyes him, guessing the guy is pleased that he isn’t going to suffer any repercussions for going ‘off script’ by bringing Eddie here like this, but he does wonder what on earth makes him think they’re ever going to be friends.

Mr Kaplan nods to Hopper, who takes this as his cue and disappears out of sight. Mr Kaplan doesn’t see it, but Eddie notices his weary-looking eye roll.

Eddie finally gets a good look at the guy who ‘helped’ him off the truck and brought him inside. He’s tall, huge, shaven-headed and intimidating. Eddie doesn’t look for long.

After a few minutes, the shaven-headed heavy motions for Eddie to step into a somewhat more private area of the warehouse, sectioned off by some disturbing-looking medical curtains on rusting rails that offer visual, if not much auditory, privacy. Eddie figures the noise of vehicles and machinery elsewhere likely drown out any talking that goes on in here anyway.

There’s a screen set up that’s displaying a fuzzy, low quality image of a man sitting in what appears to be a lavish sitting room. There’s a picture of a landscape, or maybe sky, hanging to his left, and the audio quality is marred by a low rumble. Eventually, Eddie’s brain catches up and he realises it’s not a picture at all but a window, and what Eddie can see is clouds and what he can hear is the roar of an engine - the guy’s on a plane. All he can think is, Jeezus, this guy must be loaded.

As the image comes into better focus the figure looks oddly familiar. Eddie’s vaguely reminded of a sci-fi film he saw that had Kirt Russell in it and something about pyramids, but he brushes it aside, more important things on his mind. 

The man is clad in a fedora and an exquisitely tailored suit, and as Eddie is positioned in front of what he presumes is a camera the figure removes his hat and lifts a crystal tumbler containing a deep brown liquid to his lips.

Hopper fills Eddie in.

“This is Mr Reddington. You can speak when he says you can.”

The well-dressed man speaks first, in a voice that’s even more imposing than that of the tall heavy who brought Eddie in here. 

“I understand you have a business proposition for me, young man. I’d like to hear it directly from you, if I may?”

Eddie thinks quickly, describing possible scenarios that he’s come up with. He reiterates the ideas he had earlier, and adds a few more, getting inspiration from horror movies, comics, and even some of his D&D campaigns.

“That does all sound very interesting. And heaven knows we need some levity in this business. But I do need to confer with my colleagues. Chief, what do you think? Does this kid’s idea have legs?”

Hopper and Red have a moment of eye contact, before Hopper sighs loudly and admits, reluctantly,

“It is kinda novel. And he’s basically a good kid, don’t kill him yet, huh? He can be annoying as fuck, but goddamnit if he goes missing we’d have to do at least some kind of an investigation. The amount of people I’d have to interview, the press… The paperwork alone would be hell…”

He pinches the top of his nose, and Red purses his lips, apparently conceding that Hopper’s time would be much better spent doing whatever it is that he does for him rather than wasting it on unimportant matters such as police work. His expression suddenly brightens, and the formerly imposing figure on the screen turns disconcertingly jovial.

“Well, I think it sounds like fun. I’ll tell you what, we’ll try him out for a couple of months and see how he does.”

Hopper turns to look at Eddie.

“Okay, Munson, we’re gonna give you a try. You’d better keep it interesting though, or so help me…”

He makes a small but unsubtle slicing motion across his neck with his thumb. Eddie takes it at face value, knowing he means it.

Red addresses the whole group now.

“You know, this reminds me of the time I was playing miniature golf in Andalucia with the Sultan of Brunei and Jimmy Hoffer. Richard Pryor walked up and asked if any of us knew anything about llama farming. We all looked at him askance, I mean, do any of us look like we did? But then, to my great surprise and delight, the Sultan said…”

The burly dude holds Eddie around the shoulders again, but more gently than before. At least, Eddie assumes it’s gentle. The guy’s stature suggests significantly more physical ‘prowess’, which Eddie’s grateful he's not been on the receiving end of. He’s steered away from the screen and back towards the main area of the warehouse.

Nervously, just before they leave the curtained off area and afraid this might be seen as an offense, Eddie stammers,

“Where’re we- Shouldn’t I…?”

The man’s deep, caramel voice carries easily to Eddie’s ears, as he remarks,

“Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of any more of Raymond’s epic tales than you absolutely have to be. You can thank me later.”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder, just in time to see Chief Hopper’s brow crinkle and raise in what looks to be a poor facsimile of engagement, and he takes another, deep, swig from his coffee mug. He, apparently, knew he was in it for the duration.

They reach the area where Steve and Rob are still standing, apparently playing some kind of thumb war game. The big guy extends a powerful-looking hand towards Eddie, clasping his own in an iron grip. There’s a soft smile on his face as he looks down and says,

“Welcome to the team. I’m Dembe, by the way.”

Mr Kaplan finishes up a conversation she’s having nearby with another pair of guys with clipboards and conspicuous gun holsters, and as she’s making her way out, she remarks to Eddie,

“You’re in luck, you can start tonight. We’re expecting another package, so you can help these two clowns. God knows they need it.”

Steve frowns, and Rob emits a quiet,

“Hey—”

Mr Kaplan continues,

“No need for anything elaborate right now dearie, save that for next time. But we do need some supplies. Dembe, get him some cash from the office.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He’s confused, excited, relieved, and, yep, still a little wasted.

He does have his typical nervousness about how well he’s actually gonna be able to “perform”, and how long he can keep up the interest in what he’s suggested. Following a brief discussion with Steve and Rob, a few crumpled bills are shoved into his overly-sweaty palm.

Of course, his main thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not tonight… 

But his overriding concern soon becomes:

Where the hell is he going to find rope, duct tape and a shovel at this time of night??

Next part, ‘Hello, Stranger’

My masterlist

I really hope you enjoyed this little prologue! Please reblog and leave comments, your support means everything to writers 🖤🙏

Tagging my ‘everything’ list, ILY @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy @richter-raccoon @1deverland

Also tagging those who commented on/reblogged the first one, just lemme know if you’d rather not be! @bakusquadobsessed @mewchiili @bettyfrommars @pedroschka @transparent-enemy @ali-r3n @fracturedarkness @tinytyphooncloud @alverdekote @elegantkoalapaper @ddaydreamdelusionss @ramona-thorns @vitzi9 @lurkingprincess @cherrysabbath @pullingattheroots

[graysonnightwing]

jason/nancy like ok....

obviously some of y'all on this stupid ass website are mad about this and whatever. fine. argue with me in my ask box its been ages since i got good old fashioned anon hate.

but anyways

in my head and what i personally like the most is a nebulous time frame where they get into a situationship where they are genuinely brought together because they both experience loss and someone they loved dearly dying (either chrissy or patrick or both for jason and obviously barb for nancy). they do have a connection! but instead of even attempting to find comfort in each other they spiral into mutual self destruction and use the other along the way for it.

instead of trying to heal from their losses, they fuck mean about it. every time they hook up it ends with them crying and one of them sitting on one side of the bed with their knees tucked up to their chest while the other sits on the other side of the bed the same way and they dont look at each other while they pass a cigarette back and forth.

maybe jason tries to do the "right" thing and walk nancy to her locker but nancy immediately shuts it down. jason is soo relieved. maybe nancy tries to go to one of his basketball games for him and he doesnt even look at her the entire time. they trade hand jobs and make each other cry in the girls locker room after the game.

anyways. its not a good relationship. its "toxic" or whatever. but it is interesting to me to see two complex and fascinating characters (that are foils in actual canon) self destruct and spiral downwards together while they both process losses that are larger than life.

[caparrucia]

Full offense and pun fully intended, but I genuinely think the very existence of "dead dove, do not eat" was a fucking canary in the mines, and no one really paid attention.

Because the tag itself was created as a response to a fandom-wide tendency to disregard warnings and assume tagging was exaggerated. And then the same fucking idiots reading those tags describing things they found upsetting or disturbing or just not to their taste would STILL click into the stories and give the writer's grief about it.

And as a response writers began using the tag to signal "no, really, I MEAN the tags!"

But like.

If you really think about it, that's a solution to a different problem. The solution to "I know you tagged your story appropriately but I chose to disregard the tags and warnings by reading it anyway, even though I knew it would upset me, so now I'm upset and making it your problem" is frankly a block, a ban and wide-spread blacklisting. But fandom as a whole is fucking awful at handling bad faith, insidious arguments that appeal to community inclusion and weaponize the fact most people participating in fandom want to share the space with others, as opposed to hurting people.

So instead of upfront ridiculing this kind of maladaptive attempt to foster one's own emotional self-regulation onto random strangers on the internet, fandom compromised and came up with a redundant tag in a good faith attempt to address an imaginary nuance.

There is no nuance to this.

A writer's job is to tag their work correctly. It's not to tag it exhaustively. It's not even to tag it extensively. A writer's sole obligation, as far as AO3 and arguably fandom spaces are concerned, is to make damn sure that the tags they put on their story actually match whatever is going on in that story.

That's it.

That's all.

"But what if I don't want to read X?" Well, you don't read fic that's tagged X.

"But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X.

"But that's not a lot of fic!" Hi, you must be new here, yes, welcome to fandom. Most of our spaces are built explicitly as a reaction to There's Not Enough Of The Thing I Want, both in canon and fandom.

"But there are things on the internet that I don't like!" Yeah, and they are also out there, offline. And, here's the thing, things existing even though we personally dislike or even hate or even flat out find offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable existing is the price we pay to secure our right to exist as individuals and creators, regardless of who finds US personally unpleasant, hateful or flat out offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable.

"But what about [illegal thing]?!" So the thing itself is illegal, because the thing itself has been deemed harmful. But your goddamn cop-poisoned authoritarian little heart needs to learn that sometimes things are illegal that aren't harmful, and defaulting to "but illegal!" is a surefire way to end up on the wrong side of the fascism pop quiz. You're not a figure of authority and the more you demand to control and exercise authority by command, rather than leadership, the less impressive you seem. You know how you make actual, genuine change in a community? You center harm and argue in good faith to find accommodations and spread awareness of real, actual problems.

But let's play your game. Let's pretend we're all brainwashed cop-abiding little cogs that do not own a single working brain cell to exercise critical thinking with. 99% of the time, when you cry about any given thing "being illegal!!!" you're correct only so far as the THING itself being illegal. The act or object is illegal. Depiction of it is not. You know why, dipshit? Because if depiction of the thing were illegal, you wouldn't be able to talk about it. You wouldn't be able to educate about it. You wouldn't be able to reexamine and discuss and understand the thing, how and why and where it happens and how to prevent it. And yeah, depiction being legal opens the door for people to make depictions that are in bad taste or probably not appropriate. Sure. But that's the price we pay, creating tools to demystify some of the most horrific things in the world and support the people who've survived them. The net good of those tools existing outweighs the harm of people misusing them.

"You're defending the indefensible!" No, you're clumsily stumbling into a conversation that's been going on for centuries, with your elementary school understanding of morality and your bone-deep police state rot filtering your perception of reality, and insisting you figured it out and everyone else at the table is an idiot for not agreeing with you. Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and read a goddamn book.

[kwanisms]

Under Your Skin 03 — s.changbin

playlist

➮ tattoo artist!Changbin × fem!Reader summary: Everything seemed to fall into place for Y/N. She had a loving boyfriend, her dream job, and the bestest friend in the universe. She never thought her life was missing something until she was introduced to Changbin, the town's newest tattoo artist who happens to be harboring an unimaginable secret. genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, “forbidden” love, strangers to lovers; supernatural themes; non idol au, tattoo artist au, werewolf au, supernatural au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, established boyfriend!Joshua (please note this story does NOT include cheating)

series taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @x-woozi @candidupped @snow-pegasus @brownieracha @avyskai @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @biribarabiribbaem @mchslut @hgema @oiminho @ughyeka @honey-lemon-goose @fixation-dump @sleeplessdawn @changbinnss @racha-enthusiast @sanjoongie @chillllllli @nattisbored @chrollosforehead @tai-loves-skz @labyrinthonmymind @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @mamieishere @mariesakamari @buttergumz @emithecharmer @binnies-donuts @v3n0mszn @kazzilla @jihanlovic @thezombiepandaleague @moonl1ghtmuse @woozarts @ateezkeepmysoul

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If you don't see your name, I cannot tag your blog or you've been removed for either being a minor or not having your age listed on your blog. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: here we have chapter 3. I lost some steam for this after being so strong in the beginning but I finally finished it. There isn't much to say other than here it is. I finished it lmao it's a slow burn so it'll take some time before we see any Changbin action. I hope you like it and as always, I love feedback and pls consider reblogging if you liked this chapter!

A huge thank you to Sky ☁️ for this entire story idea. Without her late night thoughts, this series wouldn’t even exist. Also a massive thank you to @icybluehosh for her professional input on all things tattoos. Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

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𝗰𝗵 𝟬𝟯 - 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁

wc: 16.1k «« previous || masterlist || next »»

Soft subtle jazz tones floated through the air as you worked, a soft but catchy beat causing you to bob your head as you tapped your foot.

You’d been working on this new set, a beautiful antique set from Japan. You had finished making the gold paste earlier and were currently applying it to the broken seams of the carafe while Mr. Serizawa worked in the woodshop.

An old couch had been brought into the shop in dire need of restoration. The foam was lumpy and lopsided, the upholstery was ripped and beyond salvaging, and one of the back legs was broken, having splintered off. 

He’d spent most of the previous day stripping the loveseat down to its basics, tossing the old upholstery and foam cushion. You didn’t have much time to watch, having finished painting the details on the English tea set which was drying in the safety of your cabinet.

The whirr of the sander had been drowned out long ago as you listened to the music Mr. Serizawa put on instead. He did it as a courtesy to your ears but you’d learned a long time ago how to tune out the noise while you worked. 

You held two pieces of ceramic together, joining them at their seam with glue and once it set, you placed them aside to finish drying before you could add the resin. It was tedious work but you loved it all the same. Your eyes wandered to the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost six pm.

You wiped your fingers on your apron as you stood up, grabbing a cloth from your table as you walked over to the door of the woodshop, covering your nose and mouth with the cloth.

You peered in where you saw your boss looking over his work, sanding the wooden surfaces of the couch smooth before applying the stain. You took his break in sanding to call out to him and get his attention.

“It’s almost six pm, Mr. Serizawa!”

He looked up and you had to fight the urge to laugh at his appearance. He had forgotten his goggles and was instead wearing a pair of black sports sunglasses with blue shift lenses and his respirator. He always wore a pair of coveralls when he worked on furniture to protect his clothes from dust, stain, paint, and resin. He looked quite silly.

“Is it really?” he asked, his voice muffled by the mask. You nodded as he lifted the sunglasses.

“You don’t need to stay to close up,” he said as he turned off and set aside the electric sander, stepping over the cord as he moved towards you. “I’ll close up tonight. Shinju is making pork belly for dinner so it will be ready by the time I close up shop,” he added. You smiled at the mention of his wife.

Ever since his call the other day, he reported her progress each day. It filled you with relief that Shinju was doing so well. “Are you sure?” you asked softly as he started to walk back over to the work desk. He nodded, waving you away. “Just make sure to put that finished set out for sale!” he said, pointing as you started to walk away.

You moved to your station and cleaned up your supplies and left the pieces to dry as you opened the cabinet housing the finished English set. Carefully, you gathered all the pieces before closing the door and heading to the front where you set the items on the counter and started to write up a description and figure out a price.

As you were placing the set on one of the shelves, the front door opened. You looked up, expecting a customer but were surprised to see your best friend entering, the soft jingle of the bell echoing around the shop.

“Be right with you!” you heard Mr. Serizawa’s voice from the back. “I’ve got it!” you called back and turned to Lilah who smiled at you as she shut the door. “Is it a bad time?” she asked which you shook your head as you turned back to the shelf and set up the description and price tag.

Lilah walked over to look at the newest addition, leaning in to see all the tiny details.

“You really have a knack for that,” she noted as you moved behind the counter to add the English set to the inventory roster, adding the price and date. “Thanks,” you replied as you set the book back under the counter and looked up at your best friend. She was dressed rather casually you noticed but there was something about her make up that had you second guessing your assumption.

“What’s up?” you asked as she looked at you expectantly. “Are you off?” she asked. You nodded, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter. “Good,” Lilah said leaning in as well. “Cause we’ve been invited to a house party.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, stepping back and moving away from the counter. “Lilah,” you started.

She followed as you walked out from behind the counter and towards the curtain that blocked off the back of the shop. Lilah followed you, pushing the green curtain aside as she stepped into the backroom. “Come on, Y/N!” she whined. You turned to her and noticed Mr. Serizawa peering out from the woodshop door. “Is that Lilah?” he called.

Lilah turned to look over her shoulder. “Hi Mr. Serizawa,” she said politely, greeting him. His face lit up. “Oh good to see you!” he said with a smile. “Make her leave,” he added, nodding towards you as you sat back down behind your desk.

Lilah turned back to you, giving you a smirk as she waited for you to move.

You sighed heavily and stood back up, reaching behind to untie your apron.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay, Mr. Serizawa?” you called as you folded and set your apron aside. His head appeared in the doorway into the woodshop again.

“It’s Friday night,” he started. “Go have fun with your friends!”

Lilah smiled brightly, thanking him as she ushered you out of the backroom, grabbing your things hastily in an effort to get out of the building faster. You whined as she shoved you out the front door, allowing it to shut. You glanced back in time to see your boss locking the door and waving you off.

You allowed Lilah to steer you town the sidewalk, no doubt in the direction of the party. “Wait,” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to halt as well. You glanced down at your outfit and looked back up at her. “You don’t want me to change?” you asked and she smiled, shaking her head.

“You look perfectly fine,” she replied, linking arms with you and starting off down the sidewalk again.

Compared to her outfit, you looked ready to run errands in your peach floral skirt and cream colored blouse. There’s no way Lilah would have deemed this party appropriate under normal circumstances. You stopped her again. “Why do you keep stopping?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “What’s your deal?” you asked suddenly. “You’d never let me go to a party dressed in my grandma clothes,” you added, using her words, not yours.

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Will you stop,” she asked, taking your arm again. “You look cute right now,” she added as she steered you down the pavement to the end of the block. “It’s just a house party.” 

“And besides,” she continued. “You have a boyfriend, so it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone!” You rolled your eyes as you made a turn at the end of the sidewalk and started down the street that led into a residential area. “And another reason is because we’d have to go to your place and then come all the way back here which would take longer,” she said as you neared the end of the block where you could hear heavy bass coming from one of the houses.

The true reason why she didn’t want you to go home and change. She wanted to save time.

“Are we going to see Chris?” you asked as you neared the house.

It was a medium craftsman style home with a nice sized front porch with the signature columns framing it. The front door was a rich red wood with glass windows at the top. The house was two stories with a small fenced in front yard and a one car driveway leading up to a small garage.

The front door opened as the two of you headed up the steps, a few partygoers exiting just before Lilah shoved you over the threshold.

Inside was like a scene out of a movie. The living room was just off the foyer with a staircase just in front of the door that led up to the second floor. To the left of the foyer was the dining room where the dining table had been moved aside and a beer pong table had been set up.

A crowd was gathered in the dining room watching the current match. Next to the staircase was a hallway that led all the way to the back of the house but you couldn’t see much as it was pretty crowded. Lilah dragged you into the crowd, bypassing the living room where a DJ had set up a table and all his equipment.

Lilah led you into an opening in the wall and into the kitchen.

You wove through the crowd until you reached the kitchen island where the drink station had been set up. Lilah was quick to pour you a drink despite your protesting. “It’s not that strong,” she told you over the bass. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip, amused that she was right.

Lilah finished making her own drink before taking your hand and taking a large sip. She dragged you through the house, no doubt looking for Chris. You kept your wits about you, looking around as you dodged people and danced around them until you were back in the foyer, facing the dining room.

A few people had moved and you could now see on one end of the table was Chris and Minho. ‘They must be one of the teams,’ you told yourself as you sipped your drink. Lilah only waited a moment before dragging you into the mix and worming her way through the crowd until she reached Chris’ side as Minho aimed and bounced the ball in his hand into one of the cups on the opposite side.

Half the crowd erupted into cheers as Chris and Minho celebrated their small victory.

Chris turned from Minho and you watched as his eyes landed on Lilah and even you could see the way his expression changed. It was like no one else was in the room. It was the way Joshua used to look at you.

“Hey!” you heard him say, pulling Lilah into a hug. “You made it!”

You turned your attention to him as he spoke to you. “And you, too?” he asked, offering a hug which you accepted. Despite the empty cups in front of him, he smelled like cologne and not the alcohol you knew he’d consumed since before you even arrived.

“Yeah,” you replied. “She kidnapped me from work!” You nodded at Lilah who smiled sheepishly. Chris turned to look at Lilah, mimicking her grin. “I hope you don’t get in trouble for leaving work,” he replied. You shook your head as Lilah answered him.

“No, in fact, her boss practically kicked her out!”

Chris let out a laugh as he picked up his drink and downed the rest of it. He turned to Minho. “I’m gonna go get a refill,” he announced. Minho nodded nonchalantly before his eyes landed on you and you could have sworn you saw a small smile grace his features before he turned his attention on the opposing team. 

Lilah leaned into your frame to speak directly into your ear. “I’m gonna go help Chris,” she said before downing the rest of her drink and sending you a wink. And just like that, she left you alone.

You looked into your cup, wanting to avoid the gaze of practically everyone.

As you tried to act natural, you felt someone’s gaze on you and glanced up at the side across from Minho and Chris’ and felt your breath catch in your throat.

Changbin was standing with his friend, Jeongguk. They were the opposing team. Jeongguk was sporting a black oversized tee as he usually did but instead of his signature sweats you’d seen him in twice now, he was wearing a pair of jeans and some brown Timberlands.

Changbin on the other hand was dressed for the occasion, wearing a black graphic shirt with white geometric lines and black cargo pants fitted at the ankle and tucked into black combat boots and for the first time you’d ever seen, he was wearing black framed glasses. A pair of dog tags hung from the chain around his neck. Jeongguk was looking at Minho, a very cheeky smile on his lips as he pointed at Minho who glanced down and groaned at seeing a small white ball in one of the cups.

Changbin, however, had his eyes trained on you. His expression was unreadable but when he noticed you looking back, a small smile, almost a shy one, spread across his lips before he looked away. You looked away as well as Lilah and Chris returned with fresh drinks, laughing at some joke you hadn’t heard.

The party raged on around you and you downed your drink. Chris had offered to get you a refill but it was Minho who went instead, despite your protests. Your second drink dwindled quickly and soon you were venturing into the kitchen for something else to sip on.

The pong game had ended after Minho brought your second drink to you and the group had migrated into the kitchen nook, taking up empty seats around the table. Lilah had taken up residence on Chris’ lap and a girl whose name you didn’t know managed to steal Changbin’s lap and make it her spot.

You tried not to watch out of the corner of your eye as the two of them chatted animatedly about his tattoos and as he spoke, he pointed them out to her. You also tried not to pay attention to the way her hand rested on his bicep a little longer than necessary.

Changbin didn’t seem to mind the attention from what you could tell. As you tried to focus on anything else, you noticed in the living room Seungcheol who was leaning into and talking to… Joshua?

Your boyfriend laughed at something Seungcheol said before he caught your eye. He sent a smile your way and turned back to his friend. You managed to find something else to drink and were back at the table, ignoring the way the girl on Changbin’s lap was whispering into his ear.

You tried to focus on the conversation at hand.

“That place was so unsanitary, I’m glad they shut it down,” Ari said from her spot next to Minho who had his arm draped across the back of her chair. “It was an iconic staple!” Lilah argued, turning her head to look at Ari. The blonde rolled her eyes. “You got food poisoning from there like five times, Lil,” she reminded your best friend.

“When did you get food poisoning five times?” you interjected, drawing the attention of half the table.

The girl on Changbin’s lap finally seemed to notice you, giving you a once over before speaking.

“Uh, who the hell are you?” she demanded.

Your attention snapped to her.

You couldn’t focus on her face. Instead, you looked past her at Changbin.

He was looking at her with a look of unmistakable anger. He tapped her back, motioning for her to get up. She got up, still looking at you as he got up and excused himself from the table and disappeared into the crowd.

“She’s my best friend, Pax,” Lilah said sternly. Ari nodded, turning to look at Pax. “Don’t be a cunt, Paxton,” she added. You downed the rest of the liquid in your cup and excused yourself, feeling the overwhelming urge to run away and cry.

It had never bothered you before when some of Lilah’s friends asked who you were but when someone looked at you with such disdain, it really dug deep.

You returned to the kitchen island, glancing around. Joshua was nowhere in sight and you wondered briefly what he was up to. “Hey,” a voice said and you looked up. A man you’d never seen before was standing across from you at the island. “Keep walking buddy,” another voice said and you watched as Minho and Ari passed you, heading for the dance floor.

“Yeah,” Ari added. “She’s taken!”

The two of them disappeared into the dancing crowd, leaving you to the mercy of this talkative stranger.

“So you’re not single I take it?” he asked as you searched through the available drinks. You shook your head. “Nope,” you answered. He leaned in, watching you with brown eyes. “Then where’s your boyfriend?” he asked. You looked up to meet his gaze. 

He was decent looking and who knows. Maybe if you weren’t dating Joshua, you might have taken him up to one of the bedrooms. “He’s around here somewhere,” you replied, sifting through the small trough of ice on the counter, looking through the canned and bottled drinks.

“You should try the punch,” the guy said before winking and standing up straight. “Your boyfriend is a lucky man,” he added before bidding you a goodnight and walking away. Your eyes fell on the bowl of punch and deciding what the hell, you grabbed a clean cup and reached for the ladle.

You scooped a couple ladlefuls into your cup and placed the ladle back into the bowl before lifting the cup to your lips. Before you could take a sip, however, a hand grabbed the cup and tore it from your hand. You looked over as Changbin dumped the cup into the sink and tossed the cup before holding up an unopened can of soda.

You looked from the can up to his eyes and then took the can, offering a small thanks.

He gave you a small smile as you opened the can and took a sip, silence falling over the two of you.

“Lilah mentioned your tolerance,” he said just loud enough for you to hear him. You felt heat rise to your face so instead of speaking, you took another sip of the soda. Changbin watched you before speaking again. “And I’m pretty sure I saw someone spike the punch with something other than alcohol.”

You looked at him, brows raised. He was… looking out for you? You nodded silently, taking another sip of your soda before raising the can. “Thanks by the way,” you said and started to walk away. Changbin followed as you wove through the crowded kitchen.

“So, where did Paxton go?” you asked, noticing she was no longer seated at the table. Changbin glanced at the table before his gaze fell back on you. “Eh, she’s probably with someone else right now,” he answered. “To be honest, I wasn’t really interested in her.”

Changbin had no idea why he was even telling you this. It’s not like you cared about his dating life. Or so he thought. “What about Hana?” He looked up at you, the shock on his face must have shown because you continued to speak. “She seemed nice.” Changbin nodded slowly, still astonished you were even asking.

“Uh, she was,” he admitted. “But we didn’t really have that much in common. The attraction was mainly surface level,” he added. He let out a chuckle. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she only wanted to date me because she might get free tattoos.”

You looked up from your drink, clearly surprised by this admission. You looked away and said something under your breath, prompting him to ask you to say it again.

“If people want you to tattoo them, they should pay for it. Regardless if they’re dating you or work for you,” you replied. “Art is art and people need to remember that artists are people who deserve to be paid for their work.” If Changbin hadn’t already respected you as an artist he certainly did before.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said more to himself than to you but you seemed to have heard him anyway. “Take my art for instance,” you said as he listened. “If I just gave it away to friends or my boyfriend or my family, the shop would never make any money off something I spent hours, even days, making.”

Changbin nodded as you continued. “Art is a valid career and people need to remember that,” you added, taking another sip of your soda. Changbin watched you briefly before contributing to the conversation. “I’m glad someone else feels the same way about art. A lot of people see art as a hobby and not a livelihood so they expect you to do it for free,” he said as he leaned against the counter.

“They expect you to do it for free because someone else did it for free,” you interjected, catching Changbin off guard. “Which is why I always tell people to never sell themselves short. Don’t do anything for free, especially if you’re good at it.” Changbin’s lips pulled into a half smile.

The conversation between the two of you dwindled as you both watched over the crowd until Changbin noticed you fanning yourself with your hand. “You alright?” Changbin asked, brow knitting together in concern. You forced a smile. “I’m just a little warm. There’s a lot of people here.”

Changbin tossed his empty container in the trash and stood up straight. “You wanna get some fresh air?” he asked and you stared back at him, contemplating your options. You could stay inside where it was really warm but where Joshua could see you or you could go outside with Changbin and cool off.

You hadn’t seen Joshua in a long while so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go outside. It’s not like you were with a total stranger. Changbin was friends with Chris and if both Lilah and Chris trusted him, then you had no reason not to trust him either.

“Sure,” you replied finally, standing up straight and downing the rest of your soda. Changbin took the empty can from you and tossed it before letting you lead the way to the backdoor, squeezing through the crowded kitchen, into the hallway before finally stepping out into the cool night air.

The backyard was a decent size, fenced in with a privacy fence. The deck was large, accommodating several partygoers and an eight person hot tub that was currently being used. You skipped down the steps, feet landing on the grass. In the corner to your right was a small garden, a large oak tree stood, a rope swing with a wooden seat hung from one of the sturdier branches.

Changbin followed as you walked over to the swing, taking a seat as he stood nearby.

“This is a really nice place,” you noted, looking around the backyard. Changbin nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m not sure whose place it is,” he added with a chuckle. “Chris and Minho dragged us here,” he continued, moving to stand behind you.

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied, chuckling when you felt him gently push you. “You gonna push me?” you asked as you swayed lightly on the swing. Changbin chuckled, grabbing the rope to stop your momentum. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Old habits.”

You glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you looked away. Changbin let go of the ropes and moved around to lean against the trunk of the tree. “So,” he started, hands in his pockets. “Is that one tea set still at the shop?” he asked.

You turned to look at him. “Which tea set?” you asked, cocking your head. “The kintsugi one,” he answered. You hesitated before answering. “Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s still there.” Changbin nodded silently. “Why do you ask?” you continued. Changbin fought the urge to smile.

“Jeongguk keeps talking about it. I think he really wants it but doesn’t want to admit it.”

You smiled, looking down at your knees. Changbin glanced down as well. He hadn’t said it earlier because he wasn’t sure if it was crossing a line but you looked really nice. The peach skirt with floral pattern complimented your skin and the cream colored flowy blouse looked good on your frame. Your makeup was subtle and different from almost any girl he normally associated with.

His eyes wandered of their own accord, moving down your legs to take in the shoes you wore. Beige colored mary jane style pumps with low heels completed the look and Changbin had to force himself to look away from your legs. If he stared any longer, you might think he was a creep.

“How many tattoos do you have?” you asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Uh,” he hesitated, counting in his head. “A lot,” he finally answered with a chuckle. “Where are they?” you asked, leaning your head against the rope. “Well,” Changbin said, standing up straighter. “I have them almost everywhere,” he answered. “Arms, legs, chest, back,” he continued.

“Do you have full sleeves?” you asked, looking up at him. Your question was genuine and full of curiosity. Something he didn’t expect from you. He nodded. “I do,” he answered. “From the shoulder down to my wrists and a few hand tattoos,” he added. “Which I’m sure you’ve seen by this point,” he added with a chuckle, showing the tops of his hands to you. With a smile, you nodded slowly. 

“And your chest?” you asked. “Oh, just one,” he said softly, raising his hand to place it over his chest tattoo. “A tiger,” he explained. 

A smile grew on your face. “I have plans to add more,” he added. “Jeongguk has the sketches on his tablet.” You smiled at him as he spoke. “Do you have any tattoos?” he asked suddenly and you laughed loudly. “Sorry,” you said as your laughter subsided. “No,” you continued, shaking your head.

“Lilah is the tattooed one.”

Changbin nodded slowly. “Have you ever thought about getting one?” he asked and again you shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “It’s never really interested me before,” you added. Changbin watched as you swayed gently on the swing. “Do tattoos bother you?” he asked, tilting his head.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “No,” he said softly. “They’re just tattoos,” you added. “Most people in this town are divided when it comes to them. Half the population has them and the other half doesn’t,” you explained. Changbin watched as you started to turn the swing, the rope twisting together above your head. “Some people think archaically,” you continued softly.

“They think people with tattoos are somehow inherently bad.”

Changbin snorted. He’d experienced his fair share of those kinds of people. “And what do you think?” he asked, watching as you lifted your feet and spun around on the swing. “I think tattoos are a lot like accessories only you can’t change them or take them off easily,” you started, putting a foot down to stop your momentum.

“They don’t change a person. You are who you are with or without them,” you continued. “It’s just art but instead of being on a canvas, your skin is the canvas.” Changbin stared at you with new found appreciation. You looked up to meet his gaze, a small smile gracing your features.

Changbin opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“Y/N?” a voice called, making both of you look towards the source.

Changbin watched as your boyfriend, Joshua, walked towards the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Changbin to you and back. “Everything is fine,” you said, smiling at him. “We’ve just been talking,” you added. Joshua’s gaze shifted to Changbin again.

“Is that right?” he heard Joshua murmur. Either you didn’t hear Joshua or chose to ignore it, the smile on your face not faltering. “I’m heading home,” Joshua announced. “Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. Changbin glanced at you as you got up from the swing.

You turned to face him. “Thank you for the talk,” you said, brushing off your skirt. Changbin nodded, smiling as you crossed the short distance where Joshua stood. “I’ll see you around,” you added, looking back over your shoulder at him. Changbin nodded. “See you around,” he said.

You took Joshua’s arm and allowed him to steer you towards the house as Changbin watched your figure disappear into the house. Jeongguk appeared moments later, jogging down the steps and walking over to where Changbin stood. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” he said.

Changbin shrugged. “You found me,” he joked. Jeongguk nodded, glancing back towards the house. “Were you out here with Y/N?” he asked, walking over and taking a seat on the swing. Changbin nodded silently. “Yeah,” he answered.

Jeongguk stared up at him, one of his brows raised. “It’s not like that,” Changbin said, rolling his eyes. “We were talking inside, she got hot so we came out here to cool off and get some fresh air.” Jeongguk nodded slowly, still giving Changbin a look. “Nothing happened,” Changbin clarified.

“Dude,” Jeongguk said, tattooed hands holding onto the rope. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

Changbin shrugged, gesturing wildly. “Nothing happened! We were talking!” Jeongguk nodded. “I know man. But you know how people are,” he replied. “They’re gonna talk. And you don’t want that kind of attention, trust me.” Changbin nodded, moving around behind Jeongguk and paused.

“You ready to go?” Jeongguk asked. “That Paxton chick was looking for you but I saw her making out with some dude in there like minutes before that.” Changbin nodded again, staring at Jeongguk’s back. “Yeah,” he said, pulling his hands from his pockets.

“I’m ready to go. I just need to do this first,” Changbin said. “Do what-YAH!”

Changbin pushed Jeongguk hard enough to cause him to slip off the wooden swing seat and onto the ground before he took off towards the house. “SEO CHANGBIN!” Jeongguk called as he clumsily got up and chased after him, Changbin giggling maniacally as he squeezed between the other partygoers.

“I’m heading out!” he called to Chris who looked up and nodded, waving at him with Lilah still perched on his lap. Changbin headed for the door as Jeongguk started to enter the kitchen. Changbin managed to make it out the front door and out onto the sidewalk as Jeongguk exited the house and made a beeline for him.

“Truce?” Changbin asked, backing away as his friend advanced on him. “Truce?!”

“No mercy,” Jeongguk said, trying to grab Changbin who managed to dodge and duck Jeongguk’s attempts before the older finally gave up. “You’re too small,” he whined as Changbin laughed, keeping pace with him as they walked away from the house.

“Too fast for you,” Changbin clarified. Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure,” he retorted.

“Too fast and short.”

Your walk with Joshua was mostly full of silence as you held onto his arm, thankful he matched your pace as you walked. The night was cool and the air crisp now that the sun had set. The sound of crickets still lingered as you walked through the mostly empty streets.

“So,” Joshua finally said, breaking the silence between you. “What were you doing outside with Changbin?” he asked. You looked at him, shrugging your shoulders. “We were just talking,” you answered. “We started talking inside the kitchen. He warned me that the punch bowl might have been spiked with something other than alcohol,” you added.

Joshua looked at you, eyes wide. “Really?” he asked. You nodded and continued to speak. “Yeah, so he gave me an unopened can of soda and then we went outside cause I was feeling a little warm. Too many bodies in one room,” you added. “And we just talked.”

“What did you talk about?” You looked up at Joshua again, trying to discern the look on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely curious or if he was prying. Either way, you had nothing to hide from him. 

“We talked about his tattoos,” you answered. “He asked if I had any and I told him no. We also talked about art.” Joshua nodded as you walked, mulling over your words. “Art, huh?” he asked more to himself than to you. “You know, the last thing I want to do is make you feel like you’re a child incapable of making your own choices,” Joshua started and you suddenly felt as if you should have lied.

“But I don’t like the idea of you and him alone together,” he continued. You held back what you really wanted to say, choosing instead to smooth over it. “We weren’t alone,” you reminded him. “There were plenty of other people outside.”

Joshua looked at you as the two of you neared your apartment building. “A bunch of drunk people,” he said as you slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Joshua,” you started, letting go of his arm and turning to face him. “I was fine. Chris and Lilah trust Changbin and I trust them, so why shouldn’t I trust Changbin?” you asked.

Joshua sighed, taking both your hands in his and pulled you closer. “I’m just looking out for you,” he replied, placing your arms around his waist and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t trust any man alone with you,” he added.

“Don’t trust them,” you started, pulling back to look up at him. “Or don’t trust me?”

Joshua clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, taking your face in his hands. “I don’t trust them,” he replied. “I trust you fully,” he added, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Then,” you said as he pulled back. “Trust me to handle myself,” you continued.

“I’m not a damsel in distress that you have to save all the time,” you reminded him.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “After church?” he asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head. “I have to have dinner with my parents,” you explained. “I need to borrow one of their cars and the fee is dinner,” you added.

Joshua looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion.

“Why do you need to borrow one of their cars?” he asked. “I can take you anywhere you need to go, you know that,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know,” you chuckled, taking one of his hands and pulling it away from your face. “But you work Monday,” you reminded him.

“What’s Monday?” he asked, cocking his head. “Mr. Serizawa asked me to go to the next town over and pick up Daniel,” you explained. “Lilah is going with me so I won’t be making the drive alone.” Joshua nodded and sighed. “I wish you’d told me sooner. I would have requested it off,” he replied.

You smiled at him. “It’s alright,” you responded, pulling his other hand from your cheek. “I’ll be okay,” you added. “I’m just going to the ferry station to pick him up and then coming straight back, but it will take most of the day,” you continued. “Besides, a little road trip with Lilah should be fun.”

Joshua smiled and nodded. “Well, I suppose it’ll be okay. I’ll see you when you get back then? We could grab dinner, maybe watch a movie at my place?” he said, holding onto your hand as you climbed one step. “Sure,” you said, looking back at him. “Perfect,” he replied.

“Get some sleep,” he said as you took another step. “Hey,” he called, gently tugging your hand and making you look at him. “I love you,” he said, stepping up onto the bottom step. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his, following his lead as his lips parted and his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“I love you, too,” you replied as you pulled back. “Get some sleep, babe,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and letting go of your hand as you climbed the rest of the steps. “Goodnight,” you called, looking back as you reached the door. “Night, babe,” he replied as you unlocked the door and entered the building.

You headed up the stairs to your door, unlocking and letting yourself into your apartment. Tomorrow you’d tackle your chores since Sunday you had church and Monday morning you’d be leaving to go pick up Daniel.

You dropped your purse on the counter and shrugged off your jacket, draping it over the back of one of the island barstools. You sat on the couch, bending over to remove your shoes and stood up to take them to the door, making sure the door was locked.

You headed to your bedroom, slowly stripping out of your clothes and changing into something more comfortable. You headed back into the kitchen to grab a snack as you had left work and gone straight to the party without eating dinner.

While you ate, you scrolled your social media feeds on your phone before finally turning off all the lights and settling down for bed, leaving your phone on the charger on your nightstand. It didn’t take long after climbing into bed for you to pass out.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

It had been a couple days since the party and you had gone to your parents’ house after church the following Sunday for dinner and to ask your father to borrow a car to pick up Daniel. You’d sat through the usual interrogation that occurred, asking about your job, your relationship, and somehow your parents managed to swing the conversation around to Lilah.

You did your best to answer the questions as vaguely as possible. After agreeing to spend the night at your mother’s request, the next morning, you headed out, stopping at your place before driving over to pick up Lilah.

As you pulled up to Lilah’s building, you slipped your phone out of your purse and typed out a quick message. You knew Lilah could sometimes take a moment to answer or even read her messages but as you looked up from your phone, you were surprised to see Lilah already walking towards you.

She waved as she got into view. You waved back, putting your phone in the holder on the dashboard as Lilah opened the door and got in. She smiled as he set her bag on the floorboard behind your seat and started to buckle her seatbelt as you put in the address for the ferry station.

“Hey,” Lilah said as the seatbelt clicked in place. “Hey,” you replied pressing the start button on your phone navigation. “How was dinner with your parents?” Lilah asked as you put the car in gear and pulled out of your parking space.

“It was… dinner with my parents,” you replied with a slight chuckle. “Did they grill you about your job again?” You nodded as you drove, following the road that led to the highway. “As usual,” you added. Lilah shook her head as she settled into her seat.

“And did they ask when you and Joshua are getting married?” You glanced at Lilah and your expression said everything. “Of course they did,” she scoffed as you continued to follow the signs for the highway. “Why do they always ask that? It’s not like you’re in a big rush to get married and settle down,” she added. “This isn’t the nineteen-fifties. You don’t need to be married with kids by the time you’re thirty.”

You hummed in agreement as you turned onto the highway and started to speed up to merge with traffic.

“You know how they are,” you replied. “I’m sure Joshua is getting the same treatment.”

Lilah snorted as she pulled out her phone and started fiddling with the bluetooth settings of the car.

“Yeah, well Joshua has always been a bit… old-fashioned.”

You glanced at your best friend as she focused on pairing her phone.

“And what does that make me?” you asked softly.

Lilah didn’t look up as her phone connected and she started playing her music. “You know how I feel about your relationship with Josh,” she said softly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. You sighed softly as you changed lanes to go around a van crawling ahead of you. “I know,” you replied.

An awkward silence settled between you as Lilah turned the music up a bit.

She had always made her thoughts about Joshua known, especially after she and Seungcheol split and now that Joshua was starting to show more controlling tendencies. You understood and appreciated her concern but you knew you could handle your boyfriend when it came down to it.

“So,” you finally said, wanting to change the subject. “Tell me about this new tattoo you’re getting.”

It seemed to be the right call on your part, asking Lilah about tattoos always put her in a much better mood. She started off showing you pictures of the inspiration of the tattoo she was getting. She explained the details, even the minute ones. She finally showed you a drawing of the final design and explained the colors and shading that would be used.

“It sounds really cool,” you said as she put her phone back in the console. “I love the flowers.”

Lilah’s smile widened. “You wanna go with me to my appointment?” It wasn’t uncommon for Lilah to ask this and more than once you’d gone with her to get piercings but you’d never been to one of her tattoo appointments. “When is it?”

“Wednesday,” she replied, watching you as you contemplated. “I’m not off until six on Wednesday,” you explained. Lilah nodded. “It’s at seven,” she offered, hoping it might sway your decision. “It’ll take a few hours but you’re off on Thursdays,” she continued.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch as a smirk threatened to spread across your face. “I didn’t realize you had my schedule memorized,” you replied to which Lilah let out a laugh. “You’re my best friend,” she started as the song on the stereo changed. “Of course I know your schedule.”

You grimaced but said nothing. You thought about the conversation you’d had with Joshua the night of the party. He didn’t trust Changbin to be around you alone so surely being surrounded by people at the tattoo shop was fine.

Then again, you suspected it was really you Joshua didn’t trust though you couldn’t fathom why. You’d never so much as thought about another man since you started dating him. You’d never entertained the thought of cheating nor would you ever.

You were loyal.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Lilah’s voice snapped you out of it. You blinked rapidly and looked over at her quickly. “Sorry,” you replied. “What did you say?”

Lilah settled back against her seat. “I asked if you want to go with me to my appointment after you get off work,” she repeated. You nibbled on your bottom lip, checking your mirrors before changing lanes to go around yet another slow moving vehicle.

“Fine,” you finally answered, switching back into the lane in front of the truck. “I’ll go with you but I’m not getting anything and I expect you to respect that,” you added. Lilah nodded excitedly. “I’m just glad you’re going with me!” she said, grabbing her phone and changing the music.

“For moral support,” you explained. “That’s all.”

The first hour of the trip was spent listening to music, chatting. Lilah told you about the progress of her situation with Chris, keeping you up-to-date on all the juicy gossip among her friend group. You didn’t care much for gossip but you knew Lilah and how much she loved it so you let her carry on.

“Which reminds me,” she said as she finished telling you about Ari’s mishap at the party where she fell going up the steps with Minho. “Where did you go?” she asked. You glanced at her before looking back at the road. “When?” you asked.

“During the party,” Lilah asked. “Ari and Minho went upstairs to hook up in one of the many rooms,” she stated. “Hana spent the whole night outside in the hot tub, Paxton says she hooked up with Changbin--” you snorted, drawing her attention. “What?” she asked.

You glanced at her and then back at the road, fighting the urge to laugh. “She’s lying,” you replied.

Lilah eyed you suspiciously. “How do you know?” she asked. “I mean, I did see her making out with a guy that looked an awful lot like him,” she said, watching as you burst into laughter. “When does she say this hook up occurred?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably around the time you disappeared.” You laughed again.

“She may have hooked up with a guy,” you said as you kept your eyes on the road. “But it certainly wasn’t Changbin,” you added. Lilah narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?” she asked. “Cause he was with me outside,” you replied.

Lilah’s jaw dropped.” You got in the hot tub in your skivvies and didn’t tell me?!” she yelled. You looked at her incredulously. “Okay first of all, never say skivvies again,” you started, laughing. “And second, no,” you continued. “Changbin stopped me from drinking the punch and gave me a can of soda and we started talking.”

Lilah watched you as you continued to explain. “And then I got warm inside the kitchen so we went outside to get some fresh air and continued our talk. We were over by the garden. And then Joshua came up and I left with him,” you explained.

“Changbin was with you the whole time?” Lilah asked and you nodded. “So unless he went back in and hooked up with her after, which I doubt because he told me he doesn’t even really like her, she’s either lying or she doesn’t remember who she really hooked up with.”

Lilah let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Changbin told you he doesn’t like her?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah. He said he also doesn’t really like Hana,” you continued. Lilah sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Is there anyone he does like?” she wondered and you shrugged.

“Maybe stop trying to set him up with your friends and let him do his own thing?” you asked and Lilah clicked her tongue. “That’s no fun,” she pouted, crossing her arms before she gasped. “What?” you asked, looking around. “I have an amazing idea!” she said, bouncing in her seat.

You groaned. “I thought you saw something,” you whined. “Don’t do that gasping thing when I’m driving!” Lilah grimaced. “Sorry, but wait until you hear this idea!” she said, sitting forward. “I have the perfect match for Changbin!”

You turned to look at her. “We just talked about this Lilah!” you admonished. “Leave the poor man be!” Lilah shook her head. “I can’t. This pairing is just too perfect!” she said, pulling her phone out and scrolling through it. “I know this girl. I think she’d be perfect for him.”

You sighed as you continued to drive. ‘Poor Changbin.’

The next two hours were spent listening to music until you stopped at a small town to get coffee and something to eat now that you were both more awake and hungry. “Look at her,” Lilah said, showing you a picture of a really pretty girl with a pale complexion. She had split colored hair, half blonde and the other half black. 

In the picture her hair was curled in soft waves reaching her shoulders, half of it pulled up into a high ponytail with strands framing her face. She had makeup similar to the style Lilah wore, graphic liner, heavy blush on her cheeks and nose, highlighter, false lashes, but she differed in that she wore nude pink lip colors.

She was covered in ink, tattoos decorating her chest, shoulders, and arms. She had multiple nose piercings, an upper lip piercing, stretched ears and multiple cartilage piercings. She had a slim waist with curves. 

She wore a high waisted black pleated skirt with black fishnets and combat boots. The shirt was black with white stripes and a tiny green alien peeking out of a small pocket on the chest tucked into the skirt. Half her curled hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, strands falling and framing her face.

“She’s pretty,” you noted with a nod. Lilah swiped to another picture. “She’s an instagram model too,” she explained, showing you the next picture. It was of the same girl kneeling on a bed, wearing a high waisted black thong with lace and a cropped shirt with a Mario star on it. She had extensions in her hair, part of it pulled up into twintails, the rest cascading in waves.

She wore a pink headset with kitty ears, white thigh highs with pink bows and in her hands was a gaming controller. You said nothing, instead nodding as you waited for your food to be ready. “She’s really cool,” Lilah said, fawning over her phone.

You watched as she scrolled a bit more and showed you a few more pictures before asking for your opinion. “Do you think he’d like her?” she asked. You looked at your best friend. “Why are you asking me?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I thought maybe since he told you what he didn’t like, he might have told you what he does like.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Most certainly not,” you replied. Lilah sighed, returning her attention to her phone. “I’ll ask her if she’s interested anyway.” You said nothing again, instead focusing on the barista as she bagged up your food and grabbed your coffees. 

Back in the car, you ate your sandwich quickly while Lilah fiddled with her phone, exchanging messages. “She’s interested!” she said excitedly. “She wants me to send a picture of Changbin. Should I just take one from his insta?” she asked, looking up at you.

You shrugged, wanting to stay out of it. “Do you have any pictures of him on your phone?” you asked. Lilah stared at you unblinkingly. “Why would I have pictures of him on my phone?” she asked. You shrugged again. Lilah fiddled with her phone. “I think Chris follows him,” she murmured, searching through Chris’ follow list.

You started the engine and pulled out of your parking space, pulling onto the road and making your way back to the highway as Lilah searched for Changbin’s account. “Shit, it’s private,” she hissed. “And that’s bad?” you asked as Lilah grabbed your phone, unlocking it with your passcode.

“How do you know my passcode?” you asked incredulously. “It’s not like it’s a secret,” she said, looking up at you. “It’s your dead dog’s birthday,” she reminded you. “Isn’t yours Chris’ birthday?” you asked, eyeing her. She stuck her tongue out at you as she pulled up instagram, going into the search bar.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to keep your eyes on the road and on her at the same time. “I’m gonna follow him from your account,” she said nonchalantly. “What?” you shouted, reaching for your phone. “Hey, hey!” she shouted, shielding your phone from you.

“Eyes on the road, maniac!” she added, pointing at the road. “Why can’t you follow him from your account?” you asked angrily. “You follow his tattoo page, don’t you? And you follow the shop!” Lilah ignored you, typing in Changbin’s name. “I don’t follow either!” you added.

“I know,” she said softly. “That’s why I’m making you follow them all right now,” she added with a mischievous grin. You tried to snatch your phone again only for her to pull away. “You’ll crash if you keep doing that,” she retorted.

You checked the mirrors before pulling over and parking the car.

“What are you--”

You reached over and snatched your phone, looking at the screen. “You’re literally insane,” you said as you made sure she wasn’t able to follow any of the accounts through your phone before opening your settings and changing your passcode, shielding the screen from her.

“Y/N!” Lilah pouted as you locked your phone and set it in the console. “Use your own account,” you replied, putting the car back in drive and slowly pulling forward to pull back onto the highway. Lilah grumbled as she grabbed her phone and tapped away on the screen.

The next couple hours went by without issue, mostly listening to music as Lilah texted back and forth with a few people. “He followed me back,” Lilah announced as you followed the signs for the ferry station. You were getting close to the coastal town. “He doesn’t have many pictures on here,” she said as she scrolled. “Which one should I send?” she asked as you got off the highway and came to a stop at the light.

You glanced at the phone and she showed two different pictures.

The first looked more recent. It looked as though he’d just woken up, his hair was messy and curly. ‘Is that what his hair naturally looks like?’ you wondered silently. His tattoos were visible and he was wearing his signature fitted black tee shirt.

The other picture was older. His hair was a completely different color. It almost didn’t look like him. His hair was styled and he wore a black suit with a red tie. He looked amazing. His hand tattoos were missing and you wondered how old the photo was.

“The first one,” you answered. “It looks more recent,” you added. Lilah nodded, looking back down as she took a screenshot of the picture and you waited for the light to change. The drive through the sleepy seaside town was quiet, most people were at work or school as you drove, winding down the side of the mountain. In the distance you could see the ocean, waves crashing into the sandy beach.

You pulled into the ferry station parking lot with some time to kill and parked the car. “Let’s go get some pictures,” Lilah said excitedly. You grabbed your jacket from the backseat and got out, locking the doors and pulling on your jacket as Lilah pulled her hood up over her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. You followed behind her, checking the time on your phone before pocketing the device and rushing to catch up with your best friend.

The look out over the ocean gave a spectacular view and you could see an island not far from shore. “You want to go down to the shore?” Lilah asked over the wind. You nodded and followed her down the steps leading to the shore. The sand was unlike what you expected. Less like sand and more like stones. Pebbles. You were glad you chose to wear sneakers and were sure Lilah was faring just as well in her boots. “Look!” Lilah called, hurrying over to a spot and kneeling down.

You followed her and leaned over her back as she unearthed a rather large piece of sea glass. “Whoa,” you said as she lifted it to reveal another piece under it. You reached down, grabbing the second piece, revealing yet another piece of sea glass.

“It’s like a rabbit hole,” you murmured, picking up the other piece. “These are so cool,” Lilah said, looking over the piece in her hands. You looked down at it. She held a black piece with tiny white flecks from who knows how many years spent in the sea water.

It was shaped like a shark fin, smooth and rounded at all three points and flat. “I wonder what this is,” Lilah said, flipping it over to look at the other side. “It’s glass,” you pointed out. Lilah looked up at the pieces in your hands. A bright pink and a deep purple, both frosted like hers.

“What kind of glass is black?” she asked, looking back down at hers. You held out your hand, lifting to inspect the glass she placed in your palm. “It’s probably from a really old bottle,” you started, handing her the pink and purple to inspect.

You held the black up towards the sky, tilting and turning it. “It’s green,” you stated. “Along the edges, it’s hard to see without the light,” you explained. “It’s probably from really old beer or gin bottles,” you added, handing it back to her, taking the pink and purple from her.

“What about those?” Lilah asked, nodding at your hands. “The pink is probably from the Great Depression era,” you noted. “Pink glassware was common during that time period because it was decorative but extremely cheap,” you explained, looking at the pink piece.

“The purple,” you began, shifting your gaze to it. It was a deep rich purple color, frosted just like the others due to exposure and time spent in the ocean. “Probably came from purple glass. Between 1840 and 1880, hair tonics were commonly sold in amethyst bottles,” you explained, turning the piece over. “But it could very well be glass made with manganese.”

Lilah stared at you as you looked over the glass. “What’s that?” she asked. “Venetian glassmakers discovered they could neutralize the color caused by imperfections in glass by adding manganese to the sand and create clear glass,” you explained, handing over the purple piece.

“But over time, the glass will turn purple when exposed to ultraviolet rays,” you continued, looking down at the ground, searching for more glass. “I’ve heard sea glass glows under a black light,” Lilah said, looking up to watch you explore. “Is that true?” she asked.

You shook your head, pushing some pebbles aside and unearthing another black piece of sea glass. “No,” you replied. “Uranium glass glows under black light,” you replied, digging out the piece and holding it up. ‘More green edges,’ you noted.

“Uranium glass has uranium added to the glass before melting,” you explained. “It produces green glass that then glows under a black light,” you continued. “That’s so cool,” Lilah said as she watched you dig in the pebbles. “How do you know all this?” she asked.

���We’ve gotten a lot of different glass types in the shop,” you said, looking up. “Including an entire tea set made from uranium glass,” you added. You managed to find a few more pieces of sea glass ranging from blue to clear but no more purple or pink.

You stood up, brushing your hands off as a horn sounded in the distance and both you and Lilah turned to see the ferry in the distance. “Let’s go,” you said softly, leading the way back to the steps. You and Lilah had found a decent amount of sea glass and pocketed it to take back home.

Back up at the station, you and Lilah huddled close to the building to avoid the wind that had picked up. “Fuck! I should have worn sweat,” you cursed and Lilah laughed, huddling closer. “Would they hurry up and disembark already?” she snapped.

Finally it seemed like the wait was over and the gates opened, passengers making their way off the boat. This early in the morning you didn’t expect so many passengers but it sort of made sense. People making the earliest commute possible.

You spotted Daniel and waved, calling out to him. He spotted you and a smile spread across his face, weaving through the other passengers until he reached you, pulling you into a hug. He’d grown taller, nearing almost six feet. “Jii-chan said you were coming so I was really excited to see you,” he said as he let you go. “You got taller,” you noted, making him laugh.

He turned, noticing Lilah. “Lilah?” he asked, almost shocked to see her. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he added, pulling her into a hug as well. “Y/N asked me to keep her company on the drive out here,” she replied. “And she annoyed me the whole way here,” you added, dodging Lilah’s attempt to slap your arm. 

Daniel was amused by your antics as he followed you two back to the car, listening and laughing as you bickered back and forth. Once his luggage was put in the trunk and the three of you inside, strapped in, you put the car in drive and pulled carefully out of the parking lot.

You asked Daniel about his time in Busan and Jeju.

“It was amazing!” he said excitedly. “We went to the aquarium in Busan and hung out on the beach most of the time,” he explained, going into further detail, describing the beach. “And then in Jeju, we went to their aquarium and we also went hiking. So much hiking!”

You smiled as he went on. “And then, since we finished our itinerary early, we took the ferry to Japan,” he continued. You nodded, glancing up in the mirror at him. “That would explain why your grandfather asked me to pick you up at the ferry station and not the airport or bus station,” you mused.

“Tell me about Japan,” Lilah said, turning in her seat to look at Daniel.

You listened to him tell his stories of Fukuoka and the surrounding areas. He talked about the food, what the group did, and even showed pictures on his phone of him and his friends.

“It sounds like you had a really good time,” you said after listening to him go on for almost an hour. He nodded as Lilah took his phone to look at a photo of him and his friends. She swiped to the next photo and let out a yell. Daniel noticed and tried to grab his phone but Lilah held it out of his reach.

“Who is this?” she asked, looking at a picture of just Daniel and a girl. She showed you. It was very pretty girl you recognized him meeting with for study sessions. “Is that Kari?” you asked, taking your eyes off the road briefly to get a better look.

“Give it back,” Daniel protested, trying to grab his phone from Lilah. “She’s cute!” Lilah remarked as she swiped through a few more photos of Daniel and Kari. “Will you stop it!” Daniel grumbled, fighting to regain control of his phone but Lilah swiped again and gasped.

“What?” you asked, glancing between her and the road. She showed you the phone and it was a picture of the two, Daniel was taking the photo and Kari had her head turned kissing his cheek. “Daniel!” you said, sounding scandalized. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pulled his beanie down over his face.

“Dannie’s got a girlfriend!” Lilah said in a singsong voice as she looked at more photos. Daniel groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry, Dannie,” you said, making him peek out from under his hat. “I won’t tell your grandparents.”

He sat up, readjusting his beanie and waited, watching Lilah before he made his move, snatching his phone back. “Yah! I was looking at pictures of you and your girlfriend,” she whined. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he clarified. “We haven’t even been on a date.”

“Then change that,” Lilah said, turning to look back at him. “Ask her out. Go to the bowling alley or something else. Something you kids find fun these days.” You glanced at her. “You kids?” you asked her and she shrugged. “He’s in high school,” you added. “He’s not twelve.”

“Take her to the fall festival,” you suggested. “That’s coming up soon.” Daniel shook his head, not looking up. “I can’t ask her out,” he murmured. “And why the hell not?” Lilah asked, turning to look back at him. “Because,” Daniel said softly. “You saw her,” he added. “She’s gorgeous.”

Lilah scoffed and you snapped your fingers. “Look up,” you said. “Look at me Daniel.”

He looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Don’t do that to yourself. You are an extremely intelligent, funny, and good looking guy. Kari would be an idiot to say no to you,” you said in a firm but gentle tone. “And if she says no, I’ll kick her butt,” Lilah added. “She’s a minor,” you said incredulously. “You can’t beat up a minor, Lilah!”

Daniel smiled as the two of you bickered. “Thanks, you two,” he said softly.

The next hour passed quickly as Daniel told Lilah more about Japan and what Fukuoka was like. You listened, keeping your eyes on the road as you drove. Another hour in, you glanced down at the gas gauge and sighed. “I gotta make a stop,” you announced, pulling off the highway at the next exit.

“We’re running low on gas.”

Daniel and Lilah continued to chat as you filled up, both of them heading into the convenience store. While the pump worked, you pulled out your phone, checking your notifications. You had a couple texts from Joshua, asking how the trip was going.

You texted him back before noticing another notification from Instagram. You had a new follower and opened the app. Your eyes widened as you read the username, tapping on the profile and your lips parted in a soft gasp. Changbin had found and followed your account.

Your thumb hovered over the follow back button before tapping it quickly as Lilah and Daniel headed back to the car. You pocketed your phone as the pump switched off and took the nozzle out of the tank, placing it back in the cradle.

Getting back in the car, you set your phone in the console, buckling your seatbelt and Lilah and Daniel divided up their snack haul. “We got you something to drink and some snacks as well,” Daniel said as he pulled a bottle of soda out of the bag and set it in one of the cup holders.

“Thanks,” you said softly as you started the engine and pulled out of the gas station parking lot, following the signs to get back on the highway.

As you drove, you tuned out Lilah and Daniel’s conversation, instead mulling over the notification you’d gotten from Instagram about Changbin’s personal account. How did he find you? Had Lilah gotten through before you grabbed your phone?

You glanced over at your best friend, meeting her gaze. “What?” she asked softly.

You shook your head and looked straight ahead. “What?” Lilah asked again. It took a couple more minutes for Lilah to pry it out of you.

“Did you like one of Changbin’s pictures on my account or something earlier?” you asked softly. Lilah’s confused expression morphed into one of excitement. “No,” she answered. “Why? Did he follow you?” she asked excitedly. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at her.

“What did you do?” you hissed, not noticing how Daniel leaned forward between the two of you.

“Who is Changbin?” he asked suddenly, making both you and Lilah jump. You glanced at his curious expression. “No one,” you said quickly, hoping Lilah would drop the subject but when you looked at her, a mischievous grin had taken up residence on her face.

“Don’t,” you warned her. “I just want to know why he followed me.”

Lilah laughed excitedly, grabbing your phone. “What did you change your passcode to?” she asked as she stared at the screen. “It’s none of your damn business,” you retorted, snatching your phone from her hands only for her to pout at you.

“I just need screenshots of his pictures to send to Riley,” she grumbled as you set your phone in the pocket on the driver’s side door, far from her reach. “I told you,” you replied as you continued to drive. “Follow him from your own account.”

“And what would Chris think?” Lilah asked, crossing her arms. “Uh, that’s you’re following your tattoo artist on instagram who you also happen to be friends with?” you offered. Lilah scoffed. “You’re no fun,” she mumbled as she sank down in her seat.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Daniel asked, making you and Lilah glance back at him. You’d partially forgotten he was there as you and Lilah bickered about Changbin and his instagram account. “Who is Changbin?”

Lilah turned to look back at him, turning in her seat. “He’s new to Sejong,” Lilah explained. “He just moved here and opened a tattoo shop on Market,” she continued. “And why are you following his instagram from Y/N’s account?” Daniel asked slowly.

“Because I need pictures of him to send to this girl I know who is interested in him!”

You sighed as you followed the signs for Sejong. “Despite the fact that he didn’t like either girl you threw at him before,” you interjected. “Changbin isn’t a wall that you throw girls at like pasta and expect them to stick. Let the poor guy settle into Sejong, let him figure things out for himself.”

Lilah’s lips curled up into a devious smirk. “You like him, don’t you?” she asked. Your eyes widened and you turned to look back at her. “What?” you asked incredulously. “I knew it!” Lilah said excitedly, sitting up quickly. “You like him!” Daniel looked between you and Lilah quickly, eyes wide.

“Lilah,” you said sternly. “I have a boyfriend.” Lilah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, a shit one,” she murmured. You reached out, smacking her arm. “Ow!” she exclaimed, holding the spot you hit. “Don’t start that shit again,” you snapped. “Joshua isn’t perfect,” you continued. “None of us are.”

You stared at her pointedly. Lilah conceded and sunk back into her seat. “Fine,” she groaned. “So, this Changbin guy,” Daniel asked, leaning forward, breaking the tension. “What kind of ink does he do?”

The rest of the ride, Lilah showed Daniel pictures on Changbin’s professional instagram, showing off his previous work and explaining the tattoo she commissioned from him. You listened as you drove. The sun had started to set as you reached the outskirts of Sejong, driving through town and heading for the Serizawa’s house. Daniel had wanted to come back and stay a few days with his grandparents before moving back into the apartment above the shop.

“Thank you so much again,” Daniel said as he leaned down to peer into your window, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It was good to see you, Lilah,” he added. Your best friend leaned forward, smiling at him. “You too, Danny,” she replied. Daniel turned his attention back to you.

“I’ll see you at the shop,” he said and you nodded. “See you later,” you replied as he waved and headed for the front door of his grandparents’ house. You waited, watching to make sure he made it in safely before driving off and making your way to Lilah’s building. The ride was silent as you followed the memorized route.

“I’m sorry,” Lilah said, her soft voice punctuating the silence. “For what I said about Josh,” she clarified. “I know I should stay out of it,” she continued. “But I can’t help it. Not when I see how he treats you from the outside.” You pulled to a stop outside her building.

“He’s too controlling,” she added. “I know you care about me,” you started, turning to look at her. “But please trust me when I say I can handle it. I know how to handle my boyfriend,” you added. “If I need help, you will be the first to know.” Lilah nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning over the center console to pull you into a tight hug.

“You’re still coming to my tattoo appointment, right?” she asked as she pulled back, making sure to grab her bag and things from the cupholders. You nodded. “Of course,” you replied as she opened the door and got out, leaning over to look at you through the open window. “You promise?” she asked.

You nodded again with a smile.

“I promise.”

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Wednesday came much faster than you were expecting. Lilah had asked the days leading up to the appointment if you were still going with her and you kept reassuring her you’d go. It wasn’t like you hadn’t attended her appointments before, you had. So why she was so adamant about you attending this one was lost on you. Until you showed up to White Lotus Studio.

Lilah had insisted on you meeting her at the shop instead of going there together. You didn’t really question it since you only had an hour after getting off work to go home, change and meet her. You didn’t really need to change but you preferred to.

The walk to the shop didn’t take long and soon you were walking up to the door, stepping aside as a couple of patrons exited, chatting excitedly about whatever work they’d gotten done. Lilah was seated inside on one of the black armchairs you’d sold Changbin as you crossed the threshold into the building. It seemed to be a busy day, each station was occupied.

Minho was sitting on a black stool, working on the leg of a man you’d seen briefly at some of the parties Lilah brought you to. In the same space, Chris was explaining jewelry options to a girl who was getting her ears pierced for the first time, her friends crowded around her but staring at Chris instead of the jewelry.

You walked over to Lilah who was talking to Hana and looked up in time to catch a glimpse of Changbin through a glass window. He was talking to a client, no doubt explaining something related to the tattoo he’d just done as he wrapped it. Your eyes lingered a moment longer as you really studied him.

You’d only ever seen him outside the studio in social settings. Parties, the club, and your work. You never saw him in his own element before. He looked much more confident in this setting.

You tore your gaze away before he caught you staring and smiled as you moved to sit on the ottoman across from Lilah. Your best friend smiled widely, leaning forward to pull you into an awkward hug. “You made it!” she said happily. You chuckled as she let go and nodded. “I said I would,” you replied.

You turned to Hana, nodding politely. Hana returned the gesture and then went back to her phone, thumbs tapping on the screen. You took the lapse in conversation to look around the shop. It was a completely different space from what you remembered. The walls were mostly an off-white color except for a bump out that was painted entirely black with a massive tiger painted.

The decal was impressive and looked imposing and intimidating, as if the tiger was leaping from the wall. Whoever had painted it was incredibly talented. Behind Lilah was a counter, behind which Paxton stood. She threw a dirty look your way but you ignored it. You were here for Lilah and if Paxton didn’t like it, that wasn’t your fault.

The front of the counter was glass, showing off a vast array of jewelry for all types of piercings. Bright lights mounted to the underside of the counter top made the gems in some of the pieces sparkle. You looked away at the black velvet sofa. You wondered where Changbin had gotten it as it was almost a perfect match to the armchairs. 

Behind the sofa, on the same wall as the tiger bump out, large rectangular planters stood behind the sofa, dark bamboo stood against the wall in contrast with the paint.

You looked towards the front of the shop, a low console table, also painted black with a matte finish and glass surface, stood under the large box window with books sitting atop the surface. The box window had a small collection of decorations in it, a few small statues of buddha, a dragon perched atop its treasure hoard, a golden lucky cat waving at anyone who passed by.

The rooms were separated by half walls with large glass windows, the doorways were open square arches. The walls inside each room were different in the decor and decals. In the room Minho and Chris were working, a dragon decal had been painted in the center of the wall, lined up with the door. A neon sign, green in color, hung on the wall next to the dragon displaying the name of a brewery in town.

There was a backlit shadow box with comic strips framed and spaced evenly from top to bottom.

You looked away from the room, taking note of the light wood floor with pale ashy tones, the black and gray ornamental rug that filled the lobby area was stunning and the patterns very intricate. You wondered if Changbin knew about the history of the rug and if so, you’d love to hear about it.

Changbin had gotten so used to the sound of the bell that he almost didn’t hear it anymore, especially when he was in the middle of an appointment with a client but whenever the tattoo gun wasn’t in his hand, he paid more attention.

Looking up as the bell rang, he saw two patrons leaving, both having been serviced by Chris. Changbin was about to return his gaze to the client who was currently counting bills when his heart skipped a beat. You had just walked in, politely bowing to the clients who were leaving.

It had been several days since Changbin had last seen you at the house party Chris and Minho had invited him and Jeongguk to. You looked just as radiant as ever. You wore a light pink jacket over a flowy cream colored dress where the hem fell just above your knees.

The tights you wore with the ensemble were nude with a swirly floral pattern. You’d paired the look with black suede pumps with straps which brought out the black details of the dress. A thin black ribbon tie at the high neck, black buttons that went up the front of the bust. It was a simple look but you made it look anything but simple. Every time Changbin saw you, somehow you always managed to look so well put together. It was clear you spent a lot of time picking out your outfits and planning things.

From your outfit to your makeup and hair. It was a huge contrast to your best friend who Changbin had noticed was wearing high waisted black cut-off jean shorts, a black tank tucked in and a black oversized cardigan. She wore black combat boots much like Changbin and it never managed to surprise him how different the two of you were.

Like night and day.

Changbin smiled as his client handed him a wad of cash, thanking him for the newest work on his calf before exiting. Changbin quickly counted the money, moving over to the counter and opening the top drawer where he kept his built-in safe, carefully putting in the code and opening the door. He separated a few of the larger bills before adding the cash to the safe, closing it up and tucking the rest in his wallet.

He went about cleaning up his station to set up for the next appointment, trying not to look out the window where he could only see the top of your head. He could faintly hear you talking to Lilah but couldn’t make out what the two of you were talking about.

He picked up the spray bottle on the counter and gave the chair a few sprays, quickly wiping the surface down. He moved about his station, opening and closing drawers and cabinets as he gathered the supplies he would need for Lilah’s tattoo. Once he had the basics, he exited the room, popping over to Jeongguk’s station to check on his progress.

He then left the room and walked into the lobby. He noticed how you were looking around, no doubt inspecting his choice in decor. He suddenly felt self-conscious. How would you perceive him through his design choices? Were you impressed or underwhelmed?

He shook his head, and walked over to where you and Lilah sat. “You ready?” he asked, taking note how you didn’t seem to hear him as he spoke to your best friend. She nodded and Changbin beckoned her to follow him.

As you were lost in your thoughts, staring at the rug, Lilah stood up and snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come on, spacey,” she joked and you got up, following her back and into the room. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized Changbin was the only artist in the room. It then dawned on you that Changbin was going to be doing her tattoo.

Lilah hopped up on the chair and pulled out her phone, connecting her head phones to the device and leaving one ear free. “Just the line work today, right?” Changbin asked as you stood awkwardly by the doorway. Your eyes raked over his form, taking in his outfit of the day.

He was wearing another fitted black tee tucked into black cargo pants with the cuffs of his pants tucked into his signature black combat boots. His hair had been straightened and styled, showing his forehead. He had a simple silver chain around his neck. It seemed that this was kind of his go to outfit.

Changbin turned slightly to glance your way before chuckling to himself. “You know you can sit down, right?” he asked, nodding at the chair near the chair Lilah was sitting on. You murmured a thanks and walked over to the chair, removing your jacket and sitting down

You glanced around the room, taking in the features. Changbin’s station was the only one in the room. The same floor ran through this room as the rest of the shop. The walls were the same off white with a custom made neon sign in the shape of a lotus hanging above the counter top that ran the length of the wall opposite the doorway.

The countertop was black quartz, the cabinets below the same off white as the walls with gold hardware. The chair Lilah sat on was a bright red leather with an adjustable headrest, arm rests, foot rest and heavy circular base. The entire chair looked fully adjustable and quite comfortable.

Changbin was looking over supplies sitting on a silver rolling tray. Various tools and equipment sat before him. He had a few small ink pods waiting to be used. You continued to scan the items, noticing he had two pairs of black gloves. ‘Two pairs?’ you wondered to yourself.

A stool, at least you thought it was a stool, sat near him. It looked like a small chair with a back and arm rests but the arm rests were backwards, sticking out from either side of the back of the stool. You looked away from the equipment to the artists as Changbin moved over to the counter and opened a drawer, grabbing a small clear bag of black rubber bands and shutting the drawer before he walked back over to Lilah. 

“If we can knock out the shading this time too, that’ll save you another session,” he said softly as he looked up. Lilah glanced over at you. “Do you mind if we stay a little longer?” she asked. Changbin turned to look at you as well. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly. “It’s your appointment,” you added with a smile towards your friend.

She beamed and nodded as Changbin turned away. “Alright,” he said moving to the side of the chair and you watched as he pushed a button and the leg rest started to raise, splitting in half. “Is the headrest in a good spot?” he asked as he finished raising the leg rest. Lilah nodded and scooted back into the seat and got comfortable. Changbin moved back over to the tray, using his toe to pull the stool closer.

You watched as he sat on it, the backrest in front of him. “You can move closer,” he commented towards you as he grabbed a glove and pulled it on before putting the other on. You realized your chair had wheels and you slowly scooted forward, moving closer to Lilah as Changbin prepared the tattoo gun.

You didn’t pay much attention to the process as it looked extremely complicated but it was still fascinating to watch. Changbin rolled closer, bringing his tray with him. You watched as he prepped Lilah’s skin, wiping the area with a cotton pad and taking a brand new disposable razor.

You watched with rapt attention as he prepared the area, shaving any hair and wiped the skin again. Once he was ready, Changbin grabbed the stencil he’d prepared and placed it on Lilah’s thigh. He pressed it firmly against her skin, making sure it stuck before peeling the paper away.

“Check the placement,” he said softly, waiting patiently as Lilah hopped up and walked over to the mirror to check it out. “Perfect,” she said excitedly, returning to the chair. Changbin nodded and moved into position. Once he got started, you watched him work.

He didn’t speak much as he worked, focusing instead on tracing the lines of the stencil. You’d been to a few of Lilah’s appointments before but most of the tattoos you’d witness her get were smaller. This was the largest piece you’d seen her get.

It was a large lion’s head, mouth open in a silent roar. You continued to watch silently as Changbin worked, finding the constant hum of the tattoo gun comforting. You glanced up to see Lilah had her eyes shut, mouthing to lyrics to whatever song she was listening to.

The song playing over the speaker of the shop’s intercom was a familiar one, you’d heard Lilah play from her playlist before. It was a heavy rock piece with a lot of drumming. It wasn’t your favorite kind of music but you didn’t mind it. You watched the tattoo take shape slowly, watching the way Changbin worked slowly but diligently. He clearly didn’t like to rush things, something you could appreciate.

After he’d managed to get half of the lines done, you looked up, hearing footsteps behind you. You turned back to Changbin. “Do you mind if I look around?” you asked softly. He glanced up briefly before shaking his head. “Just don’t get in anyone’s way,” he said with a slight smile.

You got up, leaving your jacket and purse in the chair and headed out of the doorway. Across from the room Changbin was set up in was a larger room with two stations in it. The one near the door was empty but the other station had Jeongguk, sitting in a similar stool as Changbin. He was working on an arm tattoo. The client was a young woman, maybe around Lilah’s age.

Her arm was resting on what you assumed was a separate arm rest, inside of the forearm exposed as Jeongguk colored in the line work of a tattoo you assumed he previously had done. His style was much different than Changbin’s but the tattoo was still just as intricate and beautiful.

It was an hourglass design inside a compass. You apologized softly when Jeongguk glanced at you. “I’m just curious to see what everyone else is doing,” you added. Jeongguk smiled and shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he replied. “I don’t mind spectators,” he added with a chuckle.

After watching a couple more minutes, you left the room and peeked in to see the progress of Lilah’s tattoo. Changbin had almost completely finished the lines. You decided to check the other room. Paxton was no longer behind the counter and was instead coming back from the back of the shop.

You turned to look into the room Minho and Chris were in. Minho was still working on the same tattoo as before while Chris now had Hana in his seat. You leaned against the frame, offering a polite smile to Hana who surprisingly returned it. Chris glanced back and smiled widely.

“Lilah still getting her piece done?” he asked to which you nodded. “I’m just looking around. The boss said I could,” you added with an amused tone. Minho glanced up before going back to his work. You walked over, making sure to stay a reasonable distance away.

The tattoo he was working on was a traditional style dragon with clouds behind it. The lines were thicker than the lines on Lilah’s piece but you could tell it was intentional. “You spying on me?” Minho joked as he glanced back at you. Shaking your head, you moved a little closer. “Admiring your work,” you replied.

Minho chuckled and continued to work. “Next you’re going to tell me you want a tattoo,” he mused. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to nudge him as he was working and turned back to Hana and Chris. “You wanna watch?” Chris asked, looking over at you.

You glanced at Hana who shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she added. You walked over and stood beside them. “What kind of piercing is this?” you asked. “Bridge,” Hana replied simply. You pointed at the bridge of your nose and Hana nodded. You nodded and watched as Chris took a black marker and marked either side of the bridge of Hana’s nose.

“Is that where you want it?” he asked, handing her a handheld mirror. You watched as she tilted his head, checking the placement before handing the mirror back. “Yep,” she said simply. Chris nodded, grabbing an alcohol wipe and opening it. He carefully wiped the spot before picking up the needle.

“Alright, he said softly. “Close your eyes. Deep breath in.” You watched as he carefully lined the point of the needle with the mark. “Deep breath out.” As Hana breathed out, Chris pushed the needle in, carefully lining the point with the opposite side to make it even. Once the needle was all the way through, he turned to the tray, opening the package with the jewelry.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he removed one of the balls from the barbel and placed the end into the open end of the needle. You watched with morbid fascination as he pulled the needle through, guiding the barbel into the new hole. He removed the needle and grabbed the ball, screwing it on and making sure it was firm and tight.

“And done,” he said simply. Hana opened her eyes, taking the mirror from him to look at the new piece of jewelry as Chris started to clean up. “Be honest,” Hana said, turning to you. “How does it look?” You inspected it a little closer. “It looks really cool. It’s perfectly even, too,” you replied. Hana smiled and looked back into the mirror.

You excused yourself and headed back to Lilah, passing Paxton who glared at you once again. You still didn’t know what her issue with you was but you decided not to dwell on it as you entered Changbin’s station. He’d finished the lines and was now working on shading the lion head.

“How was your trip?” Lilah asked, eyes still shut. “Fascinating,” you answered as you sat back down. Changbin glanced up at you and smiled before returning to his work. “Jeongguk was working on an arm tattoo. It looked like some kind of mandala,” you explained to Lilah. “Minho was doing this really cool traditional dragon tattoo and Chris did a bridge piercing,” you relayed, feeling like a child telling your mother what happened in school that day.

The rest of the appointment passed quickly and soon Changbin was turning off the tattoo gun and setting it down. “Alright,” he said and Lilah opened her eyes. “Let me finish wiping it down and then I’ll cover it. You looked up from your phone, having zone out a while ago while playing some kind of coloring game on your phone. Changbin wrapped up quickly.

As he was finishing, Jeongguk peered in. “We’re ordering from the noodle place down the street,” he announced to Changbin. “You want your usual?” Changbin nodded without looking up as he applied vaseline to Lilah’s tattoo and started securing the plastic. “Get some of those beef dumplings,” he called out. He looked up at Lilah. “You know the drill. Bandage stays on for four days, no soaps except that antimicrobial I told you about, lotion for sensitive skin without dyes or perfumes, blah blah blah,” he added as he got up and started cleaning.

“If the bandage comes off before four days, come back in and I’ll replace it,” he added as Lilah walked over to the mirror, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of it. “And send me that picture,” he added as he noticed her taking another. “I want to add both it and the finished piece to my instagram.”

Lilah nodded and opened her messages to send him the picture. “So what do you think?” Lilah asked, showing off the new ink. You smiled, inspecting it. “I like it,” you replied. “The lines are really clean and the shading is really good. It’s gonna look pretty sick with the color,” you added.

“Does this mean you want to get something?” Lilah asked, wiggling her eyebrows, making you laugh loudly. “No,” you replied. “Absolutely not.” Changbin removed his gloves and tossed them in the trash bin, the snap of the gloves making you and Lilah look over at him.

He had a playful smile on his face. “Is my art not pretty enough for you?” he asked jokingly. You shook your head. “Your art is beautiful,” you replied, catching him off guard. “I just don’t have any desire to get a tattoo,” you explained. Changbin chuckled lightly. “I’m just messing with you,” he replied. “Tattoos aren’t for everyone,” he added. “I get that.”

Lilah thankfully punctuated the subject with her change in topic.

“How much do I owe you?”

You turned to gather your things as Lilah paid Changbin, thanking him once more. “Come back once you’re ready to add some color to that,” Changbin reminded her. She nodded and turned to you. “I’m gonna go see Chris really quick. I’ll meet you up front.” You nodded as you unplugged your phone from your charger and packed up.

As you were pulling on your coat, Changbin spoke up.

“If you ever change your mind,” he said, drawing your attention. “About getting a tattoo,” he added, noticing your confused expression. “I’d be happy to do any work you’d like done.” You smiled warmly. “Thanks,” you said softly, picking up your bag as he leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d love to be your first,” he added, an amused undertone to his voice.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you. Something in the playful smirk on his face. Before you could respond, you heard Lilah calling your name, pulling you from your trance.

“I gotta go,” you announced. Changbin nodded, the same smirk still on his face. “See you around, Y/N,” he said softly and you turned away, forcing yourself to walk out of the room and towards the front of the shop where Lilah was waiting.

You followed her out onto the sidewalk, Chris locking the door behind the two of you as they set about closing the shop. “Are you hungry?” Lilah asked, linking her arm with yours. You nodded slowly, still mulling over Changbin’s words and playful banter. “Yeah,” you finally replied as Lilah steered you in the direction of the town square. “Let’s get some dinner,” you added.

“Good,” Lilah said excitedly. “Cause I’m starving.”

ⓘ If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging as it helps me out more than you know. All graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[beanzwrites]

│Chapter One│

│Human! Alastor x Reader│

Ⓢⓨⓝⓞⓟⓢⓘⓢ: Alastor offers (Y/n) a job, and though they are hesitant, they accept.

Ⓝⓞⓣⓔⓢ: The reader is indicated to be biologically female as they will face certain challenges throughout this story due to the time period. Characters set in this will refer to the reader as she, but for the most part, it will be gender neutral. This is written to be platonic but will remain ambiguous. There may be inaccuracies to the time frame. This series may and will contain things such as sexism, classism, gender dysphoria, bullying, mentions of religion, and gore. Please read at your own risk.

〣Previous Part 〣

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"Alastor. Charmed to meet you! I must say, this is an awful lot of stuff you have here. Mind if I ask what you are doing?" The man speaks with glee.

(Y/n) notes a shine in his eyes they couldn't quite decipher, and a feeling of uncertainty washes over them. Very few people have shown interest towards them willingly, as the locals have made sure to blacklist them due to their unorthodox behavior, and (Y/n) mentally barricades themself for where this interaction will lead to. Surely, it won't end well.

"Just working on an assignment," (Y/n) replies, cautiously watching as the man permits himself to sit at the table.

"One for learning then! What does one such as yourself want to be?" Alastor hums, looking over the covered surface with curiosity.

"I'm currently enrolled for journalism. Nothing too grand..."

"I see, I see. Do tell about this fascination you have with the Bayou Killer then? Surely, the college doesn't speak of such things in a mere literacy class," Alastor casually remarks as he takes up one of the cut-out articles that (Y/n) made notes on in his hand, "My, what interesting theories you have! Do you really think this murderer has a vendetta against ill-willed men?"

"That's none of your concern," (Y/n) snaps as they tear their work away from the stranger's hold. The man's smile twitches slightly, his stare intensifying on them for a moment. (Y/n) would've been intimated if it weren't for the immediate regret they felt pull at their heart. Alastor's arms fall into his lap, and the grin he wore before falls as he leans back. Were they truly so standoffish as Joanne claims?

"I apologize..." (Y/n) sighs out, "That was rude of me, and though I cannot excuse my terrible behavior, it's been an off day for me. Please pardon my actions."

"That's quite alright, my dear. I've had a few days in the ditch myself, but my mother always told me that if you want something to happen, act as if you already have it," Alastor reflects with the wiggle of his finger. "Nothing a little music can't help either! Instead of working one's finger to the bone, why don't you come dance with me?"

"That's very kind of you, but you wouldn't want to dance with me."

"Nonsense! If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have asked."

"If you want to go home with a broken toe, then by all means."

"How farcical of you," Alastor laughs, "I'd like to see you try!"

Alastor's temperament returns back to a mirthful one such as before, an ever-growing smile etched on his lips and waggish gleam casting from his eyes. His slim fingers tap against the glass he brought with him from the bar, sipping from the alcoholic beverage periodically as his gaze drifts over to the bustling scene of the dancefloor. (Y/n) watches too, as pretty girls with short furling dresses and babydoll curls gather with their friends to dance with boys who bought them one to many drinks. The laughter that bounces throughout the building suddenly becomes too much for (Y/n), and though Alastor sat just beside them, a staggering loneliness weighs heavy on them.

"Please don't let me keep you," (Y/n) mutters, returning their focus back on the papers laid out in front of them. Not like they had the motivation to work now, but it was the only thing that would keep their mind from wandering too far. Scribbling away once more, (Y/n) couldn't help but to be curious of a soft creaking coming closer to their side, and peek over to see Alastor's watchful regard reading over their writing. "What are you doing?"

"Mere curiosity is all, sweet. You need it in my line of work, but I suppose you would understand where I'm coming from, wouldn't you?"

"It's not my job to be curious, I just simply am."

"Is that so?" Alastor asks with a raise of his brow, "I would've assumed a clever woman such as yourself would have a high standing occupation to go with her wit."

"And that would be a first for me being called clever instead of imprudent," (Y/n) laughs, "Sadly, your assumption is mistaken. I guess people just don't see anything else besides my gender. I can't be smart like a man nor curious like a man can. How lucky for you."

"I could care less," Alastor answers, "All that matters is that I see potential, a potential I can guide."

"What could I possibly give you that won't bite you in retaliation?"

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" He grins somewhat diabolically, "What could society possibly say about you that would bring down the best radio host in city? Trust me, you aren't the only one who's name escapes disquieting tongues. From one interesting person to another, I persist that we join forces. Come work with me at that radio station."

"You come off awfully fast. I don't even know you!"

"You can't race time, but you can be quick with it! You need a job, do you not?"

"I'll think about it," (Y/n) remarks, "I'm still in school after all. I will have to see when and if my schedule permits it. You cannot control time either, you know?"

"I understand completely, my dear! Take all the time you need. My radio isn't going anywhere if I can help it!"

"There you are!" The familiar sound of (Y/n)'s mother calls out over the live music. The fringes of their mother's dress shine under the fluorescents like gold as she walks over to the table, an ecstatic red painted smile expressing how she felt. She looked absolutely stunning, (Y/n) thought. Her aging has always been graceful, like that of fine silk, and a small sense of pride fills them as they think back on Mimzy's praise. (Y/n) never saw themself as beautiful, always opting to hide away from attention as much as they could, but the similarities they had with their mother was something they always liked. "I was worried that you didn't show up."

"I would never disobey you, Ma." (Y/n) comments as their mother sits across from Alastor.

"I see you've made a friend!" Their mom's eyes twinkle as her attentiveness casts over to the man, "I'm Lorraine, (Y/n)'s mother. Pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure is all mine!" Alastor greets, "I must say, what an excellent performance you put on earlier! I suppose talent runs in the family?"

(Y/n)'s mother surveys him quizzically, pursing her lips in thought, before her eyes brighten.

"Did (Y/n) let you read her writings? Marvelous, isn't it? I don't know where she got her smarts from, but it surely wasn't me! I have to say though, she normally doesn't get along quick with strangers. What did you do to be so special?"

(Y/n)'s cheeks heat slightly as their mother peeks at them, a smirk on her face. They quickly collect their papers with a pout, glaring from the eulogize words their mom practically sang. "Don't call yourself dumb, Ma. You are anything but," (Y/n) grumbles, "The only reason Mister Alastor here read anything is because he allowed himself to without permission."

"You wound me!" Alastor cries, clasping his suit where his heart should be, "Your work merely fascinates me is all. I offered them a job, you know?"

"Really?" Lorraine exclaims with a gasp, "Oh, (Y/n)! That's wonderful! What will she be doing?"

"Helping me write manuscripts for my broadcast. If she says yes, that is."

"You must say yes, sweetheart! This is a miracle to you from God!" (Y/n)'s mother pleads as she take her child's hands in hers. "It may not be exactly what you want, but you've been given a chance."

"I've been called many things in my life, but God is a first." Alastor bombinates with a tilt of his head.

"Oh! My apologize, Mister Alastor!" their mom remarks, "Thank you for seeing good in my daughter!"

"Why do I feel like I don't have a choice here?" (Y/n) mutters, watching the two adults go back and forth in chatter. Their mother, charismatic as ever, goes off on a tangent about (Y/n)'s greatest strengths that could be useful in the workplace. Her face beams with absolute gratitude and support; it makes (Y/n) feel off about their previous cumbersome comments. Alastor nods along with their mother's insistent information, his head leaning casually against his closed fist.

A sense of mystery surrounds this man, (Y/n) notes cautiously. Though his demeaner was nothing short of friendly, his eyes held unknown intent. The edge of his smile quirks slightly as he continues listening to their mother, but the tapping of his foot shows a sense of urgency. (Y/n) continues observing the stranger, even when his eyes connect with theirs.

All their life, no one besides their mother showed such fervent interest in their activities. On many occasions, they were told that their insistence on bountiful knowledge would only lead them to be fruitless. No one in this city would've told this man good things about their progressive exertion, and it only made (Y/n) want to build up their walls even higher. Their mother wasn't oblivious to people's intentions and wickedness, however. She's had her fair share of snakes, and she knows when to spot one, even with her honey-like spirit. It caused a sense of unsureness within (Y/n)'s own perception; were the things that they heeded true, or was there an underlining of their insecurities seeping through? If their mother didn't raise any alarm of what she thought of Alastor, why should they?

"Can I help you with something?" Alastor calmly asks as his stare bores into (Y/n)'s.

"I was just wondering..." (Y/n) declares, "When would you like me to start?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━☻━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Y/n) vigorously taps their pencil against the desk, eyes glued to the hands ticking by on the clock above the professor's head. Time surely was testing (Y/n)'s patience today, as their history teacher had brought her lecture to a closing a few minutes ago, and opted the students to work on anything that needed to get done before it was officially time to leave. (Y/n), diligent as ever, made sure to be on top of their class assignments. There was really no reason for them to stay in class; however, the anxiety that bubbled underneath their skin prompted them to linger a little longer.

Very few students remain in the room, most taking the free time as a way of escape from their responsibilities. Though some moil over their own homework in silence, others gathered together leisurely in gossip. The boisterous laughter buzzed uncomfortably in (Y/n)'s ears like that of an unreachable itch, but the loudness of their own head distracted them more so.

With persistent persuasion from their mother after the encounter with Alastor, (Y/n) requested to start at the station the beginning of the upcoming week. The weekend went by before they could even process what they had accepted, and now that the afternoon of their first shift has presented itself in a cloudy manner, (Y/n)'s doubt sprouted in a messy briar of potency. But, the distraction of their own loathing couldn't even be dealt with in peace.

A sharp pain warms the back of (Y/n)'s head with great vehemence, as a strand of their hair is tugged on in an arbitrary manner. The audible hiss that escapes through their teeth causes an eruption of cackles behind them. (Y/n) swiftly turns to the obnoxious noise, icy vexation carrying their stare. Donald Raslo, a boy with slick auburn locks and a smile that would gain any clueless woman's trust, eyes (Y/n) with a look they could only describe as vile. His teeth tug at his bottom lip mischievously, hazel orbs casting over their body. An involuntary shutter of disgust travels down their spine as their fellow classmate reaches over to grab at their hair again.

"Don't touch me," (Y/n) growls in absolute rancor.

"I'm surprised you haven't just shaved it all off yet," Donald simply replies with a maniacal grin. "You know, since you want to be a man so bad."

"You are pathetic," (Y/n) responds coolly as they turn back in their seat to quickly gather their things. Another agonizing pull forces their head back as Donald watches from behind his thin-framed glasses.

"It's all just fun and games!" Donald chuckles, as if his insults were anything but cruel, "You get defensive so quickly. Relax a little, doll."

"What do you want?" (Y/n) bluntly asks, jerking the strand away that Donald curled with his finger.

"I was wondering if you would go to the dance with me. I've wanted to ask for a while now."

A scowl morphs onto (Y/n)'s face, and they rise from their sit. Anger boils throughout their body, their nails involuntarily digging at their palms. Without another word to the boy, (Y/n) excuses themself to their teacher, and flounces out of the room. The heels on their feet become unbearably heavy as they stalk throughout the halls, visibly shaking as the distant feeling of Donald's hand through their hair burns at their scalp. (Y/n) wanted to scrub their head raw as their discomfort taunts them.

The world around them spins, and tears catch at the edge of their eyes. Deep huffs of air exhale from (Y/n) as they try to calm down. They despised themself for letting such childish behavior bring them into such a vulnerable state, but the tightness in their chest was excruciating.

Sometimes, they wished that they weren't so different.

The smell of freshly bloomed marigolds ground (Y/n) back to reality as they push open an exit door of the school. The sky basks in a slate blue, caressing the earth in a rare coolness of spring. The wetness on their cheeks startles them; they hadn't realized they were crying. Wiping their cheeks with the sleeve of their overcoat, they settle themself on the pavement steps gliding down into town. They stare blankly ahead, a fixed frown on their face.

(Y/n) never let the bullying affect them too much, convincing themself that the others were too callow for their own good. They taught themself at a very young age to stifle their insecurities, and eventually, people would just leave you alone. (Y/n) isn't an emotionless robot, however. As hardened as they try to appear, wounds that are consistently probed at never truly heal.

"(Y/n)?"Joanne, small and quiet in tone, carefully settles herself down by them, sun hat in her petite white-gloved hands. Her eyebrows arch together in worry and a deep frown sits on her usually cheerful face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," (Y/n) remarks as their eyes remain ahead. They subtly wipe at their cheeks again, letting out a deep sigh. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to apologize, for what I said to you before. It was very unbecoming of me. I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge, Ann..."

"Good," Joanne says after a moment, "I couldn't live with my best friend being upset with me."

"I'm not petty by any means. The most I would've done is never talk to you again," (Y/n) snorts.

"You call that not being petty?" Joanne laughs, "You and I have different morals on what that looks like then! Seriously though, are we alright?"

"We will be, (Y/n) replies, "There's still a lot I have to think on."

"I understand... I heard that Donald asked you to the dance. You rejected him."

"I'm guessing he told you that. I'm still not accepting his offer, if that is why you are truly out here."

"I won't pressure you into dating someone you don't like. I know my fair share in that," Joanne reflects as she pinches at the fabric of her skirt delicately, "Will you at least think about going still? Even if you go alone, I'll be happy that you're there."

"You know I don't do good at socializing," (Y/n) answers, "It's best if I just stick to myself."

"Could I maybe convince you over coffee? The cafe should still be open."

"I won't be able to today. I have plans already," (Y/n) acknowledges as they stand. Casting their gaze over to the girl, a smirk cracks onto their solemn expression. "I might take you up on the offer at a later date though. Our last get-together ended kind of sour, after all."

"Sure, but why the sudden leave?" Joanne questions as she stands herself.

"I got a job."

"Oh, (Y/n)! That's wonderful!" Joanne exclaims as she races to hug her friend. "Mind if I ask where?"

"A local radio station," (Y/n) simply remarks, rigidly patting Joanne on the back. Their friend pulls away soon after, hands firmly holding their shoulders and a big grin on her face.

"How long have been working there? Is that why you haven't been around?"

"Not exactly... I've been helping my Mom with her new job after my classes. That's where I met my boss actually; I start today."

"You'll have to tell me all of the details later! Promise you will!"

"I promise... Can you let me go now?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━☻━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Wheels squeal to life as the bus (Y/n) took to the far edge of town starts up again. The ground beneath them rumbles as the trolley continues back to civilization, and (Y/n) begins to venture across the street where the treeline of the marsh begins.

A dirt road trails off into the forest, a black tin mailbox posted alongside it. Glancing at the scrapped piece of paper in their hands, (Y/n) read over the address Alastor hastily wrote down for them a few days before, and confirm this was the driveway to the radio station.

Leaves, thick like smoke, hover over (Y/n) in shadowed agglomerations, and sweat begins to bead across their forehead as the coolness of the day begins to heat up once more. The muggy atmosphere felt almost suffocating, but they continued onwards with tenacious intent. Though anxiety still roared within their heart in fast palpitations, they'd be damned to show up late.

The forest rang with muffled silence, the chirping of crickets seeming to echo but a distance. (Y/n) follows along the wooden fence that barricaded the road from the woodland's depths, and soon enough, a scrupulous house and rustic barn are revealed as the narrow path opens up into a field.

As (Y/n) walks up to the porch, confusion entwines in their thoughts as they quickly notice how vacant this station seemed to be. They knock on the screen door and wait a few moments with furrowed brows.

Where was everybody?

"There you are, dear!" The charismatic voice of Alastor discloses his presence, his never-changing smile lining his pearly whites with thin lines. "I hope your travels gave you no trouble."

"Your station is a long ways from the city. I almost thought I got off at the wrong place. Where are the others?" (Y/n) asks curiously as they walk down to meet him.

"The others?" Alastor questions.

"Surely you don't do everything yourself? Where are your other employees?"

"I don't need a whole group to do tasks I'm perfectly capable of doing myself," Alastor comments as he leads (Y/n) towards the barn with his hand on their upper back. "I will say though, I'm ecstatic to see how you work. I sure do hope you do not disappoint me."

"Me either..." (Y/n) mutters, malaise injecting itself once again into their nerves.

As they enter, (Y/n) notices rather quickly that this isn't a typical barn house, but instead, it has been renovated in Alastor's image. The area was spacious and quaint, organized in a way that aligned with Alastor's schedule. Sound panels lined the wall, a table adjacent to them equipped with a microphone and headphones. Paper cabinets were stationed in the far corner and a cork board pinned with different notes and articles hung above them. A lounge area was arranged near the center, couches patterned with red and black circling a low rising coffee table. Along with the dim bulb lanterns that dropped from the ceiling, the atmosphere was quite cozy.

"This isn't what I was expecting," (Y/n) honestly reports, watching as Alastor casually sits on one of the sofas. "I was imagining a more... Claustrophobic environment to say the least."

"Oh, Heaven's no. I need my space to work," Alastor replies with a soft scoff. (Y/n) felt somewhat small compared to Alastor, his confidence burning like a rapid flame to wind. His knowledge on the world, though ostensibly coming off as arrogant at times, seemed to be too far-reached for the likes of (Y/n). However, a small spark of aspiration lit their need to learn, and a smaller part of them also hoped that Alastor would be patient in his teachings. Yet, (Y/n) also couldn't help but to remain cautious of this man's intentions. His ambitions towards them still remain unclear, and that caused an uncomfortable grip of fear on their heart.

"I'm still not fully sure on why you were insistent that I work for you. What can I do that someone else can't? You said it yourself you can manage perfectly fine on your own. I'm just curious on why," (Y/n) says, hesitantly walking further inside with their bag strap in a deathly grip.

"I've told you before," Alastor remarks in a deep timbered hum, his eye blown out and unwavering as he stares at them. "I want to experiment with your mind. See your ticks and how it responds to certain circumstances. I did my research more than you realize, sweet."

"You purposely sought me out because of gossip? You do realize you are feeding into a media man's stereotype, yes?"

"I never said I believed it! It is my job and passion, however, to create my own hypotheses. If it makes you feel any better, I do find that brain of yours quite fascinating so far."

"I don't really know what to say to that..."

"Let's make a deal then, shall we?" Alastor compels, "I'll let you cover any topic your heart desires while you work under me, and with the condition that you can leave at any time, I get to observe and test you in any way I please."

"And what makes you think I won't walk out of here right now? How can I guarantee you won't use anything against me?" (Y/n) tests with a grimace, hating the slight amusement they found in this position. They took pride in the work they do, knowing that every advantage they can access to achieve the truth should never be taken for granted. On the other hand, they despised needless societal gossip. Being on the receiving end of undeserved hate, they fully understand the need for veracity. Though, they don't fully commend Alastor at this point, the opportunity to disassemble the lies built in New Orleans overweighed any possible hesitations.

"You can't guarantee anything and I won't say if I will or if I won't. I know you won't walk away though," Alastor chuckles, "You are just like me; you won't turn down the possibility of destroying another."

"Is that so?" (Y/n) hisses out, a tempestuous glare keeping up with the puckish one their new boss held with them. "What do we start on first then?"

"Sit, dear." Alastor's smile widens as he gestures to the other couch, "We have much to discuss."

═══════════════════════════

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ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Six: A New Companion

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masterpost

៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ The tension mounts as you anxiously await a message from the directors. A call from Seonghwa bringing you the not-so-good news of you passing the first round of the casting brings mixed emotions, and a walk in the park offers a brief escape from your spiraling worries. Returning home, you find comfort in the unexpected presence of Pompidou, Monsieur Frank’s mischievous feline. As the day of the callback arrives, the pressure intensifies, culminating in a nerve-wracking evaluation before Hongjoong and the casting panel.

a/n: one of my classmates from my journalism class just asked me how i improve my literary skills and i blanked out because i couldn’t tell her i do it by writing fics :’) only our class’s photojournalist knows about it because she’s a close friend of mine

tags: @beabatiny

It’s been three days, and you’ve been on the edge of your seat for what feels like an eternity, always hoping for a callback notification. But that’s not the only thing that’s stressing you out—the sketchbook is another factor, too. Sure, you were hoping to make it past the first round, but if you did, that would only mean permanently being under the same workspace as the man who owns the sketchbook that you still don’t have the guts to return—not because you don’t want to but because you’re scared. And he wouldn’t be just a co-worker, no, he’s the creative director, meaning you’re not just under the same agency as him—instead, you’re under him.

You’ve been contemplating whether you should drop subtle questions here and there to Seonghwa in your conversation, asking if Hongjoong is currently going through a tough situation regarding his line of work, but that would be too obvious. It’s not that you were keeping your secret for the sake of saving your potential career—you wanted nothing more than to just shove it into Hongjoong’s arms and make a run for it, but the possible consequences kept outweighing your rationality. This was one of the many struggles of yours you can’t confide in someone about.

Today was no different. It was only early in the morning, but you were already pacing around your room, glancing back and forth at the sketchbook that was now laid on your bed. Each time you looked at it, your stomach twisted with anxiety, the constant thoughts swirling in your head at an even faster pace. What if Hongjoong finds out? What if he’s already suspicious? Every scenario played out in your head, from being publicly shamed to being blacklisted from the industry. The longer you thought about it, the more you felt the weight of the potential repercussions.

Would Hongjoong be understanding if you returned the sketchbook and explained the mix-up? Or would he think you were trying to steal his ideas? The stakes felt incredibly high, and it was a gamble you weren’t sure you were ready to take. Trust was hard to rebuild once broken, and you had just begun to establish a foothold in this new world.

You sat on your bed, picking up the sketchbook and flipping through its pages again. The designs were intricate, detailed, and undoubtedly brilliant. You admired Hongjoong's work, but that admiration was tainted by the anxiety of knowing you had something that didn’t belong to you. Just then, when you felt like your resolve was about to crumble completely, your phone that was on your desk started ringing. Anxious, you quickly walked toward it and saw that the caller was Seonghwa. You picked it up, trying to sound calm as you greeted him like you weren’t just nearly losing it seconds ago.

“Hello, Seonghwa,” you said, your voice slightly shaky—after all, he could be calling for any reason out there, even the ones outside of your mind.

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice came through the line, cheerful as always. Would he still sound the same, were he to ever find out? “I have some great news for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. "Really…? What is it?"

“You got a callback,” Seonghwa announced, a hint of pride in his tone. “The casting directors were really impressed with you.”

Relief and excitement washed over you, momentarily drowning out your worries about the sketchbook. “That’s… that’s amazing. Thank you so much for letting me know and for believing in me, Seonghwa.” You were happy, really. It’s just you didn’t have it in you to outwardly express it, especially considering your current situation.

“I knew you had it in you,” Seonghwa continued. “They’ll be sending you a message with all the details. Make sure you’re prepared, alright? This is a big step.”

“I will, thank you again, Seonghwa. I really appreciate all your support.”

“Of course,” he replied warmly. “I’m in full support of you. Just stay focused and do your best.”

You ended the call feeling a mix of elation and nerves. The callback was a huge opportunity, but it also meant your anxiety about Hongjoong and the sketchbook would be an ongoing issue. You had to figure out a way to handle it without jeopardizing everything you had worked for. A few minutes after the call, you received a message from an unknown contact and read it. It’s from the agency and its casting directors:

Congratulations on making it to the next round of callbacks for our upcoming show! We were thoroughly impressed with your performance during the initial casting, and we are excited to see more from you.

Here are the details:

1. Date and Time: Please arrive at our main office at 9:00 AM sharp on Friday this week.

2. Location: 8th Avenue, Paradigm Street.

3. Attire: Please wear simple, form-fitting clothing that allows us to see your figure clearly. Avoid excessive accessories or makeup.

4. Portfolio: Bring an updated portfolio with recent photos, including headshots and full-body images.

5. Preparation: Be ready for a photography session and possibly engage in a brief interview with our casting directors. We are looking for confidence, professionalism, and the ability to adapt to different styles and instructions.

We wish you the best of luck and look forward to seeing you soon.

After you finish reading it and taking mental notes of each requirement, you let yourself fall onto your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling while groaning and burying your face in your hands. This was supposed to make you happy, but all you felt was nervousness. Could this really be treated as a win when it comes at the cost of a huge loss?

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was, as usual, in his office, accompanied by the presence of Wooyoung, who had been silently listening in on your phone call with Seonghwa while he was busy drawing little doodles on the notepad settled on top of Seonghwa’s desk. “Was that her?” Wooyoung asked, his voice eager.

Seonghwa nodded with a small smile on his face. “Yeah I’m really happy the casting directors saw the same potential I saw in her. I’m really proud. I genuinely think she’d be such a good fit in the industry. I’m sure she’ll be able to find her place despite the fact that she’s entirely foreign to the concept of fashion and modeling.”

Wooyoung nodded in agreement, hopping up to sit on Seonghwa’s desk. “I agree, but aren’t you a little worried, though? The industry isn’t exactly the kindest, especially to those who are new. It’s a rough world out there.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply, his expression turning serious. “Yeah, that’s true. I just hope she won’t get pushed into the negative side of the world of fashion. It’s inevitable, though, so I really just wish her the best. We can only hope she stays grounded and keeps her integrity intact.”

Wooyoung leaned back, folding his arms. “Speaking of which, don’t you think there’s something strange going on with Hongjoong lately? I mean, he’s still... Hongjoong, that’s for sure, but it’s like the army of dark clouds looming over him are slowly starting to disappear. He doesn’t bring up his sketchbook just as much anymore, and he doesn’t seem to be that stressed out over it. Has he found it yet?”

Seonghwa shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Your guess is as good as mine. The frustration’s still there, but it’s as if it had been tamed, somehow. He’s not that much of a douche during work hours anymore, so I guess that’s a good sign? He’s definitely been more tolerable recently.”

Just as Wooyoung was about to respond, the door to Seonghwa’s office swung open, and Hongjoong stepped inside, raising an eyebrow at the two men. “Are you talking about me?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

Wooyoung quickly shot back, “Yeah, what about it?” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, a blank expression on his face as he walked over to Seonghwa’s table and pinched Wooyoung’s ear. “Ow!” Wooyoung yelped, rubbing his ear with a pout.

“Just because you like being the talk of the town doesn’t mean it’s the same for other people,” Hongjoong said, letting go of Wooyoung and making his way to the couch in Seonghwa’s office. He flopped down, stretching out as if he owned the place.

“Je m’appelle ‘don’t give a shit,’” Wooyoung retorted, shrugging his shoulders defiantly at Hongjoong.

Seonghwa, trying to keep the peace, interjected. “Enough of that. What brings you here, Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly. “Something similar to why Wooyoung loves making himself at home on my office couch. You know, back pains and stuff.”

Seonghwa let out an exasperated sigh. “You two aren’t any different at all, are you?”

A comfortable silence settled over the room for a moment before Hongjoong broke it. “What, you don’t want to talk about me anymore now that I’m here?”

Wooyoung grinned, leaning back on the desk. “Oh, we’ve got plenty to say about you, Hongjoong. Don’t worry.”

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure you do, but maybe save some of it for when I’m not around to defend myself.” He reclined comfortably on Seonghwa’s couch, casually observing the room. He turned his attention to Seonghwa, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Hey, do you have a list of the models who got a callback? I’ve been so busy lately that I haven't had a chance to keep in touch with the casting directors.”

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, shuffling through some papers. “Unfortunately, there were only a handful of models the casting directors were interested in. Less than half, to be precise.”

Wooyoung, who had been lounging against the desk, interjected with a grin. “Wanna know what’s fortunate, though?”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “She got in. You know, the—”

“Really?” Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with genuine excitement, already knowing who Wooyoung was referring to. “That’s great news. I never doubted your keen eye, Seonghwa.” He shot Seonghwa a grateful look, as if it weren’t for Seonghwa spotting you at Rue de la Paix, you wouldn’t have even attended the casting.

Seonghwa smiled modestly. It was always nice hearing compliments from Hongjoong, as they never came along that often. “I knew she had potential the moment I saw her.”

Hongjoong nodded appreciatively. “The schedule’s set for Friday this week, right?”

Seonghwa confirmed with a nod. “Yes, Friday.”

Hongjoong’s smile broadened. “Can’t wait for the day to come.”

—

Two days later, you decided to take a walk to the local park, desperately needing a few moments to yourself for some fresh air. The schedule for the callback was now only two days away, and time felt like it was moving both fast and slow at the same time. The anticipation was nerve-wracking, and you couldn't shake the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

The situation with Hongjoong was still fresh in your mind. Like you’ve already told yourself countless times, it wasn’t like you wanted to keep the sketchbook a secret forever. You knew how important it must be for a creative director of a fashion brand. You just needed time to figure out how to sort things out without potentially harming your future career.

As you strolled through the park, you found a nearby bench and sat down, letting yourself get lost in the sunset. The sounds of the crowd around you blurred into the background, offering a momentary escape from your thoughts. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was your mom calling. You accepted the call, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” your mom’s voice was warm and comforting. “How have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a short while.”

You sighed softly, trying to keep your tone light. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what?” she asked, concern lacing her words. “You haven’t told me anything about the results of the initial casting yet.”

You took a deep breath and pursed your lips, deciding to share the good news. “I got a callback. It means I’m in for the second round of evaluation, which will be held this Friday.”

Your mom’s initial reaction was one of joy. “That’s wonderful, dear! I’m so proud of you!” But then she seemed to sense your hesitation. “You don’t sound too excited about it. What’s wrong?”

You brushed off her concern, not wanting to worry her. “It’s just been a long week.”

She paused for a moment, clearly wanting to press further, but then she relented. “Alright, just remember to take a break if you need one. You don’t have to push yourself too hard.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Take care of yourself. I’ve got to go now—the house chores won’t finish themselves.”

You ended the call and put the phone back in your pocket, letting out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding. As the sky started to darken, you decided it was time to head home. Standing up, you began walking back, lost in your thoughts. Just as fate would have it, as you were making your way home, you spotted Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and another friend of theirs—someone you had seen with the casting directors during the initial casting—on the other side of the street. Your eyes widened in panic.

Seonghwa seemed to notice you first, raising his hand to wave. Before he could get your attention, a bus passed by, and you used the opportunity to dart in the opposite direction, hoping to stay out of sight. Your heart pounded as you hurried away, not daring to look back. When the bus moved on, you were no longer on the other side of the street. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung stood there, puzzled.

“Where’d she go?” Wooyoung asked, glancing around.

Seonghwa shrugged, looking equally confused. “Beats me. She’s probably in a hurry.”

You continue running until you reach your apartment building, pausing to catch your breath before entering. Your heart is pounding, not just from the exertion, but from the adrenaline of your narrow escape. Once inside, you lean against the wall of the lobby, trying to steady your nerves and slow your racing thoughts.

As you approach your apartment, you are met with an unusual sight: Pompidou, the mischievous cat of a fellow tenant, Monsieur Frank, is lying peacefully in front of your door. It’s rare to see the usually rambunctious feline so calm. Cooing softly, you crouch down and slowly extend your hand towards Pompidou, ready to pull back if the cat resists. Much to your surprise, Pompidou looks up and begins nuzzling its head against your palm, purring contentedly.

“Hey there, Pompidou,” you say softly. “What brings you here today? Are you on an adventure? I hope you’re not planning on scratching my door again, or are you?” You scratch its head a few times, smiling at the unexpected affection, but your knees soon start to ache, reminding you that you need to head inside. Unlocking the door with your keys, you push it open, only to find Pompidou following you inside.

Worried that Frank might panic over his missing cat, you try to gently lead Pompidou back outside. “Come on, little guy, let’s get you back to Frank. He must be worried,” you say, but the cat has other plans and darts further into your apartment instead.

Chuckling, you shake your head and playfully call out, “Want to play a game of tag?” Even though you know the cat can’t understand, you chase it around the room with light-hearted enthusiasm.

“Pompidou, come back here! You’re going to make me late for... well, for worrying about everything,” you say, laughing amidst your frustration.

Eventually, Pompidou finds its way into your bedroom. As you laugh at the cat’s antics, your laughter abruptly stops when you see Pompidou circling Hongjoong’s sketchbook on your desk. You sigh softly, walking over to sit down on the chair in front of your desk, watching as Pompidou finally settles down beside the sketchbook. You gently caress its head and ask, “Why did your owner name you Pompidou?” The cat purrs in response, making you chuckle softly. “I’m not making fun of you. I’m just curious. Honestly, if anything, it suits you pretty well.”

“Why are you so mischievous?” you continue. “Always messing around with Madame Dupont’s garden and getting into trouble with all the other tenants. Do you like seeing them all flustered? I swear, every time I see Madame Dupont, she’s grumbling about you digging up her flowers. And last week, Monsieur Bernard was ranting about you knocking over his trash cans. You’re quite the troublemaker, aren’t you?” you say with a smile.

“Do you know how much trouble you’re causing, Pompidou? Just like me, it seems,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve got this sketchbook here, and it belongs to a very important man. I didn’t mean to take it, but now… now I’m stuck.” The nerves from today’s encounter begin to creep up again as you confide in Pompidou about the whole situation with Hongjoong. “I want to give it back, I really do,” you continue, your voice dropping to a whisper. “But what if he’s angry? What if he thinks I stole it on purpose? My career could be over before it even starts.”

Just then, Pompidou gets off the desk and jumps into your lap, its paws kneading your chest back and forth. The gesture nearly brings tears to your eyes, and you look at the cat with a heartfelt gaze, continuing to caress its head. “You’re a sweet kitty, Pompidou. Do you think things will work out? Maybe I’m overthinking this,” you say, trying to reassure yourself. “Or maybe not. I don’t know anymore.”

Suddenly, you hear the faint sound of Frank calling out for Pompidou from the hallway. The cat’s ears twitch at the sound, and it looks up at you, seemingly understanding the call. “That’s your cue,” you say softly. “Time to head back to your owner.”

Standing up, you carry Pompidou in your arms. “Let’s go, little guy,” you whisper as you walk to the door. Opening it, you set the cat down on the hallway floor. “Stay out of trouble, okay?” you add, bidding it farewell and closing the door behind you.

Inside, the apartment feels a bit emptier without the mischievous cat, but you take a deep breath, trying to focus on the upcoming callback and the challenges ahead. Sitting back down at your desk, you look at the sketchbook and then at the empty room, a heavy sigh escaping your lips.

You wish things were simpler, but in reality, they’re anything but such.

—

You find yourself back in the waiting room, but this time, the atmosphere is different. The room is nearly empty, with only a few models left who, like you, have made it past the initial round. Clutching your new portfolio filled with the photos the casting directors requested, you sit down, anxiously glancing around the room and fiddling with your fingers. The anticipation in the air is palpable.

The evaluation starts, and models are called in one by one. With every name called and every person who leaves the room, your turn feels like it’s creeping closer. Your heart races, your palms sweaty, and you try to focus on steadying your breath. The fewer people left, the more your anxiety grows, until finally, the inevitable arrives, and your name is called.

You stand up, nerves bubbling in your stomach as you walk into the room. Facing a panel of casting directors, photographers, and the creative director, Hongjoong, you take a deep breath. Seonghwa is there, offering you a reassuring smile, and you notice the man they were with two days ago, now holding a camera. He seems to be one of their photographers.

“A pleasant morning to you,” one of the casting directors begins. “We’re glad to see you again. Let’s start by introducing ourselves.” Each panel member introduces themselves, and you discover that the man you saw with Seonghwa and Hongjoong two days ago is named Wooyoung.

“Thank you for having me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Please, show us your portfolio and tell us a bit about your journey,” another casting director instructs. You present your portfolio to the panel, accompanying it with a brief but passionate description of your aspirations.

“I grew up in a small foreign town, Arcadia Bay, far from the exquisite streets of Paris,” you begin, your voice wavering slightly but growing stronger as you continue. “Ever since I was young, I dreamt of something bigger—an adventure, a new life. Moving to Paris was my way of chasing that dream. I left everything behind, knowing that this city held the opportunities I was searching for.” You swallow, feeling the panel’s eyes on you, encouraging you to continue.

“I have no experience in modeling, but fashion and photography have always been one of the things I have a fond sense of admiration for. Then, one day, as I was walking down Rue de la Paix during my first week here, Seonghwa found me. It felt like a turning point—the moment I had been waiting for. Seonghwa saw something in me that I didn’t even see in myself, and he encouraged me to take a chance, to believe that I could be more.” The panel listens intently, and you notice a few nods of approval. Hongjoong’s eyes seem to light up with curiosity, and Seonghwa’s supportive smile reassures you.

“Your passion is evident,” says one of the casting directors. “It’s refreshing to hear someone speak so earnestly about their dreams.”

The casting team then takes simple Polaroid shots of you, capturing your natural, unedited state. The panel instructs you to pose for photos, and Wooyoung takes the lead, directing you with a professional yet friendly demeanor. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Wooyoung says, positioning his camera. “Just relax and be yourself. Show us different sides of your personality.”

You follow his instructions, moving through a series of poses. You start with a confident, bold stance, then shift to a softer, more vulnerable look. You feel the tension in your body easing slightly as you focus on Wooyoung’s directions. “Great, now let’s try something that shows your inner strength,” Wooyoung suggests, encouraging you to channel the determination and resilience that brought you to Paris. You let out a genuine smile, thinking about how far you’ve come and the obstacles you've overcome. The room feels less intimidating with each click of the camera.

After the photo session, the panel provides immediate feedback. They exchange glances and murmur among themselves before addressing you. “Thank you for sharing your story,” one of the casting directors says. “We’re impressed with your passion and the natural talent you’ve shown today. It’s clear that you have a strong sense of self and an eagerness to learn and grow.”

Another casting director adds, “Your poses were confident and versatile, and you took direction well. It’s evident that you have potential, and we appreciate the sincerity you brought to this session.”

Hongjoong nods in agreement. “Your story is inspiring, and it’s always exciting to see someone with such raw talent and determination. We’ll be reviewing all the candidates and making our final decisions based on today’s performance, but I wanted to let you know that your dedication has not gone unnoticed.”

You nod, expressing your heartfelt gratitude to the panel for the opportunity. As you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can’t help but feel a whirlwind of emotions coursing through your body—relief from having successfully completed the evaluation, and anticipation mixed with lingering nerves about what the outcome might be. Your heart is pounding, echoing loudly in your ears as you stand up from the chair. You take a moment to steady yourself, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything. Carefully, you close your portfolio, securing it under your arm, and take a deep breath to calm your racing thoughts. The journey back to the waiting room feels like a blur, your mind replaying every moment of the evaluation, analyzing each word and gesture.

Entering the waiting room, you notice it’s even emptier than before. The models who finished their evaluations have left, and only a handful of others remain, either waiting their turn or gathering their belongings. You walk over to where you had been sitting, the spot now feeling strangely familiar and comforting after the intensity of the casting room. You quickly collect your bag, hands slightly trembling with the residual adrenaline. The weight of your belongings feels grounding, a tangible connection to reality amidst the haze of your thoughts. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you take one last look around the room, almost as if searching for some sign of reassurance or validation.

Pushing open the heavy doors of the building, you step out into the fresh air, the cool breeze hitting your face and providing a welcome contrast to the stuffy interior. The city noise greets you—honking cars, distant chatter, the rhythmic clatter of footsteps on the pavement—all grounding you further in the present moment. Just as you begin to descend the steps, a voice calls out your name from behind.

“Wait!”

Your immediate instinct is to ignore it, the adrenaline pushing you forward, wanting to escape the intensity of the day. Your steps quicken, the sound of your name echoing in your ears, mingling with the cacophony of the street. The voice persists, but you force yourself to focus on the path ahead, eyes fixed on the horizon as you make your way towards the sanctuary of your own space. The city feels like it’s rushing by, each step taking you further from the anxiety of the evaluation and closer to a place where you can breathe and reflect as the voice fades into the background.

On your way back home, your phone suddenly rings from inside your bag. You rummage through your belongings, pulling out your phone to see a message notification from Seonghwa.

Have you already left the building?

You quickly type out a response.

Yes, I have.

Why? Was it you calling me earlier?

A moment later, his reply comes through.

Earlier? No, I’m still here with the casting directors.

Did something happen?

Confusion settles in. If Seonghwa wasn’t the one calling you, then who was it? Not wanting to delve deeper into the mystery right now, you settle with a vague reply.

No, don’t worry about it.

After hitting the send button, you shut your phone and tuck it back into your bag, continuing your steps. As you reach your apartment building, you’re greeted by a familiar, pleasant surprise—Pompidou. The mischievous cat sits by the entrance, its bright eyes peering up at you. The street is bustling just a few steps away, making you worry for the little feline’s safety. You waste no time bending down to scoop him up, lightly scolding, “Pompidou, you can’t stay outside like this. It’s dangerous!”

Pompidou responds with a soft meow, and you can’t help but laugh lightly at its endearing nature. Setting it down once you’re inside the building, you begin walking toward your apartment. However, you stop in your tracks when you feel the light brush of a cat’s fur against your legs. Looking down, you see Pompidou trailing right behind you, its tail flicking playfully. Crossing your arms, you chuckle, “You’re not planning on lounging in my room and worrying your poor owner again, are you?”

Pompidou circles around your leg, his silent response making you sigh in playful defeat. “Alright, alright. Come on, then,” you say, allowing him to follow you.

Once you’re in front of your door, you unlock it and let it enter first, soon following after and shutting the door behind you. You slip off your shoes and set your bag down on the living room couch. Exhausted, you sit down, throwing your head back against the couch’s headrest, staring up at the ceiling as the weight of the day begins to settle on you.

Pompidou, never one to miss an opportunity for affection, climbs onto your lap, snapping you out of your thoughts. You begin patting its head, its purrs vibrating softly under your hand. “You know, little guy,” you start, your voice a quiet murmur in the stillness of your apartment. “Today was... something else.”

Pompidou’s eyes blink up at you, its soft gaze encouraging you to continue. “The callback was nerve-wracking. I presented my portfolio, and they took some photos. Wooyoung—turns out that’s the name of the guy I saw with Seonghwa and Hongjoong—he was one of the photographers. They gave me feedback, and... well, it’s all in their hands now.”

You pause, scratching behind Pompidou’s ears. “Honestly, I never imagined I’d be here, in Paris, doing this. It feels like just yesterday I was in Arcadia Bay, working at a diner while dreaming of a new life. Then Seonghwa found me at Rue de la Paix and changed everything. It feels like a turning point I’ve been waiting for my whole life.”

Pompidou shifts, its paws pressing against your leg as if to comfort you. You smile softly. “But it’s scary, too. What if I’m not good enough? What if I can’t handle the pressure? And then there’s Hongjoong’s sketchbook... I still haven’t figured out how to give it back to him. It’s like it’s a huge secret weighing me down.”

Pompidou nuzzles its head against your hand, its purring intensifying. You let out a small laugh. “You’re right, Pompidou. I shouldn’t let it consume me. One step at a time, right?” You continue to pet the feline, feeling a bit of the day’s tension melt away. “You’re such a good listener, you know that? Even if you don’t understand a word I’m saying and probably think I’m out of my mind.”

The cat’s eyes close in contentment, his purring a steady, soothing rhythm. “I wish I could be as carefree as you, Pompidou. Just wandering around, finding joy in the little things,” you begin, “but maybe that’s what I need to do—find joy in the small victories and not get too caught up in the what-ifs. Yet for me to be able to reach the highs, I need to survive the lows first. I just hope all of this will be worth it in time.”

🪞 — lividstar.

[calqlate]

RE: LOVE & LIFE | ZERO

— YOU, YOUR BELOVED HUSBAND, AND A PRETTY STRANGER

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

PAIRING(S): zhongli x f! reader + diluc x f! wife! reader

SUMMARY: As the wife of the famous big shot in the wine industry, you have everything you could ever ask for — a beautiful mansion, endless wealth, servants at your beck and call... However, you lack the one thing you yearn for: love. With your beloved husband neglecting you and being stuck in a loveless marriage, you decide to end it all, only to be stopped by a man whom you have never met before, and who also coincidentally happens to be your soulmate. In addition, there just might seem to be more than what meets the eye in regards to your peculiar soulmate, and you just might have to find that out for yourself.

CW(S)/TW(S): contains mentions of suicide attempts

You — the daughter of the respectable [L/N] family, a wealthy family renowned for their extensive network of trade services.

Diluc — the sole son of the esteemed Ragnvindr family, a wealthy family which made a name for themselves from their wine business.

A contract made by both of your grandparents — that was how you came to be the madam of the Ragnvindr household. Now, you were the most powerful lady in the city of Mondstadt, with both your dignified family backing and the reputable Ragnvindr family supporting you. With wealth, fame, and power in the palm of your hand, what more could you possibly ask for?

Love. That was the one thing you wanted the most but did not have: you have loved your husband dearly ever since you were a child. Sure, he was not your soulmate and your timer said that you had ages more to wait before you met your actual match, but who cared? Not everyone married their fated beau, and you could care less about who yours turned out to be. All that mattered was that you loved him, and you were more than ecstatic to learn that you were to marry him. That itself was enough for you.

However, that was not the case for him: on the day of your wedding, he had zero expression on his face, devoid of affection or even any amicable feelings when he looked at you. The moment you set your eyes on him on the altar that day, you knew that he was simply tolerating you and that this was simply for publicity reasons.

So with love out of the picture, you found the simplest way out of this unwanted marriage: suicide. No one was happy in this union and there was no way to annul the marriage without offending anyone. So, what better way than to end your own life?

And then this pretty stranger entered the picture — he was known as Zhongli and he hailed from the docks of Liyue Harbour. You learnt that he worked in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour and he was an associate of the Fatui Network, a Snezhnayan trading group which your husband despised the most. So by default, he was on your blacklist, too. Other than that, you had no connection to him whatsoever.

So why was this pretty stranger in tears, begging you to stay alive for him?

[tulip-room]

BOOP

Kyoya ootori x black!Reader (Headcanons)

A/N: I hope I did this justice, let me know some things I can work on. I’ve never written for a black reader before so I’m sorry if this is insensitive <3 most of the info I use like hair products and stuff I got from my bestie so shoutout to her <3

If you’ve been together longer he’ll pay for you to get your hair done whether that be braids, locks, straightened, dyed, etc.

He asks a lot of questions because he doesn’t want to accidentally do or say something to make you uncomfortable

If someone is racist towards you they’re going to wish they were dead. They will be losing their job, getting kicked out of school, and blacklisted in the career path they wanted to go in

As much as he doesn’t seem sentimental he most definitely has photos of you two hanging all around his room

The first time you come over you’re surprised by the items in his bathroom

You had come over and the two of you were having a great time. You were watching movies and playing games. At some point he had started playing with your hair. It felt so nice. “Sorry, is this okay? I heard recently that you should ask before touching black hair.”

“It’s fine, that’s more for strangers not for my boyfriend.” You smile at his thoughtfulness. Unfortunately your bladder had other ideas. No matter how many times you’ve been to his house you still have trouble remembering which door is the bathroom and what’s just a closet.

He laughed at you still not being able to find the bathroom and pointed to the door by his bed. “The one closest to the bed is the bathroom.” As you walked in though you were shocked to find various curl creams, mousse, leave-in conditioner, and a spray bottle with water.

“Kyo? What’s all this?”

“Ah, you found them. Good. I know that you usually bring your own hair products from home but I thought it would be more efficient if I just bought some to keep here for you.”

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too.” And you’ve never believed it more.

RULES NAVIGATION

[runawaymun]

🏳️‍🌈Now Taking Pride Requests!🏳️‍🌈

Hi everybody! Happy Pride 2024! I made a post about this earlier but here is your official reminder that you can send me in art requests for pride!

I will be happy to draw:

Tolkien characters and ships (ofc) from the entire legendarium.

Rings of Power related ships, show-specific characters, and character interpretations. If you would like to blacklist those pieces please blacklist #the rings of power if you haven't already.

OCs (please provide brief descriptions, if you don't I'll DM you, if you don't an you're on anon your request will not be completed.) OC x canon character ships are welcome!

Other fandoms' characters but please state the fandom so I know what it's from! If I'm not sure, I'll DM you. I would especially love to draw for Genshin Impact, The Stormlight Archive, The Dragon Prince, and Stranger Things. But other fandoms are welcome as well!

OTHER RULES:

Anons are welcome!

Please try to send only one in at a time. I will specify later if I am ready to accept second requests!

I will stop accepting pride requests on June 30th. Anything I do not get to in June will be completed in August, since July is Disability Pride and I don't want to overshadow it.

NSFW is okay! It will be posted to AO3 and a censored version will be posted on Tumblr.

🌈 TERFS FUCK OFF. MY TRANS SIBLINGS I LOVE YOU. BI-EXCLUSIONISTS FUCK OFF. I'M BI. AROACE EXCLUSIONISTS ALSO FUCK OFF. SCREW YOU.🌈

Happy requesting!! Have fun and happy pride!! <3

[spnfanficpond]

New Member Spotlight - December 2023

The Pond is always growing and we want to make our new members feel welcome! Here’s a list of recent additions to our fishy family, along with a little info about them!

Guppies, Jellies, and Mutuals, oh, my!

@mayalaen -

Other SM names? - Mayalaen on AO3, Discord, Twitter, Bluesky, LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, etc.

OTP? - I'm a multishipper so no true OTP.

Other fandoms? - Mostly Stranger Things, OFMD, Stargate SGA/SG1, Star Trek, X-FIles, and Angel the Series/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I'm interested in a lot of fandoms.

Looking for in the Pond? - I like to encourage people to write and create and I like to make friends in fandom. I was referred to the Pond for that by some members.

Something to signal boost? - I run a monthly writing/art challenge on AO3 called SPNColdestHits that you guys have already been boosting (THANK YOU!!). It's multifandom now and accepts art and original fic, not just fanfic. This is the AO3 collection link and of course, we're @spncoldesthits here on Tumblr, but we're also on Discord, Twitter, Bluesky, and Pillowfort.

Pairings you read? - I'll read pretty much any pairing, poly or otherwise. I'm not interested in reader insert, but I've read some.

Genres you read? - I prefer darkfic and/or kink, but I read anything.

Favorite writer(s)? - Xanthe Walter, but they haven't been active in fandom for about 2 years now.

What do you like to write? - My favorite is darkfic, D/S AU, and kink, but I also love writing crack and all other genres.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - It's newer but it has the least amount of hits from the list of non-crack/non-gift fics and is an SPN/Blacklist crossover. Caging the Mongoose.

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I really would like to write some SPN/HDM fusions. I keep toying with the idea, but have never posted any of them. I always work better when I have prompts or ideas from others to spur me on.

.@leatafandom -

Other SM names? - @leatawrites, Leata (AO3 and Discord)

OTP? - Sabriel

Other fandoms? - Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Marvel, BBC Merlin, Star Trek, Doctor Who

Looking for in the Pond? - I could use some help with tags and challenging myself to write different things.

Pairings you read? - Ships, Gens, Poly fics

Genres you read? - Angst is my favorite but fluff and smut are always wonderful

Favorite writer(s)? - Yes, @idabbleincrazy on Tumblr or Gabriel_is_my_guardian_angel89 on Ao3

What do you like to write? - Angst, Horror, Smut, Bittersweet/Sad Things

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - My most underappreciated story is probably one of my original horror short stories. My most underappreciated fanfic is probably Becoming One,Two, and One Again.

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? -I really would like to write more horror however I feel like I struggle with expressing fear, scenery/detail descriptions, and word choice

@oganizediguana -

Other SM names? - Oganizediguana on Discord

OTP? - Destiel

Other fandoms? - I tiptoe through many fandoms, but SPN is my home. Good Omens

Looking for in the Pond? - I’d love to get encouragement for writing and the confidence to share my work. But I’d also love to just meet interesting people.

Pairings you read? - 99% destiel

Genres you read? - I read it all, but mutual pining slow burn is what makes me feel all the things. I love a good canon-compliant AU. I’m happy with anything that ends happily. Or at least hopefully.

Favorite writer(s)? - On AO3: NorthernSparrow, tenoko1, saltnhalo, there are so many amazing authors in this fandom!

What do you like to write? - Everything seems to turn into angst.

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I’d like the confidence to share what I have written.

@dragonslayer-5fanfiction -

Other SM names? - Ao3- Dragonslayer5

Other fandoms? - haikyuu, daria, lotr/the hobbit, tmnt

Looking for in the Pond? - I just want to make friends and read good fanfic. I like to beta read. Maybe write some fanfic, but I have writer's block rn.

Pairings you read? - Reader insert

Genres you read? - Fluff, crack. One bed, and arranged marriage forced proximity tropes.

What do you like to write? - Reader inserts. Fluff.

Masterlist! AO3 Works list

Most underappreciated fic? - Do You Think About Me? (not SPN)

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? -Honestly, writing two characters from the Fandom. I typically stick to reader insert, and I'm a little scared I won't get the characteristics right or the dynamic.

That's all for this month, folks! (If we're missing anyone, let us know and we'll add them to next month's list!) Make sure to say hi to the newbies and make them feel welcome! Thanks to all from @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @katbratsupernaturalwhore and @heavenssexiestangel!

[mrsjellymunson]

Hello, Stranger

Miniseries Masterlist

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

CW: 18+ MDNI. Caution for mature and dark themes and allusions to crime and violence. Hopefully there’s some comedy too 🤭 The dark, weird, black comedy Stranger Things/The Blacklist AU that, arguably, should never have existed 😆

Hello, Stranger

Hey, Boss (A Prequel)

Hi, Friends

My masterlist

I have a general taglist that you’d be very welcome to join 🖤

[tavs-kin-korner]

rEQUESTS ARE: cLOSED (cOME BACK SOON!)

iNBOX: 11

hI THERE, tHIS IS A KIN HELP BLOG RUN BY tAVROS! tHIS IS A SAFE PLACE FOR FICTIONKINS, oTHERKINS, iRLS, fICTIVES, tHERIANS, oTHERHEARTED, cOPINGLINKS, AND MANY MORE!! (sEE DNI AT END OF POST,)

i WANT THIS TO BE A SAFE PLACE FOR MANY, sO i HAVE VERY FEW LIMITS ON SOURCES! aLTHOUGH, i HAVE RECENTLY CREATED A BLACKLIST WHICH CAN BE SEEN BELOW, i DO HAVE THE RIGHT TO DECLINE A REQUEST IF I AM UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT! i MAY NOT KNOW A SOURCE VERY WELL, sO IF YOUR SOURCE IS NOT ON MY SOURCE LIST, pLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC!

i AM OK WITH MAKING STIMBOARDS ETC, wITH THEMES OF BL00D/G0R3/W3AP0NRY/HORROR! tHEY WILL BE POSTED BELOW THE CUT AND HAVE WARNINGS, sO OTHERS WHO MAY BE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THOSE THEMES CAN BE SAFE, }:)

wHAT i DO HERE!

-sTIMBOARDS

-mOODBOARDS

-fASHION KITS

-cARE KITS

-pRIDE ICONS

-dOODLES/SKETCHES (fULL WORKS ARE COMMISSIONS ONLY,,, sORRY!)

-nAME/PRONOUN SUGGESTIONS

-kINFESSIONS (pLEASE SPECIFY IF IT IS A CONFESSION! tALK ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCES, eTC,)

-kIN CALLS (pLEASE SPECIFY IF IT IS A KIN CALL! tELL US THE SOURCE, aGE RANGE, oR ANY SPECIFIC PEOPLE YOU'RE LOOKING FOR!)

-kIN LETTERS (pLEASE SPECIFY IF IT IS A LETTER! mAKE SURE TO ADDRESS THE RECIPIENT AND SIGN OFF! mAYBE EVEN SPECIFY THE SOURCE SO i CAN TAG PROPERLY!)

-kIN ADVICE (pLEASE SPECIFY IF YOU ARE VENTING/LOOKING FOR ADVICE! fEEL FREE TO VENT IN THE ASKS/ASK QUESTIONS, i'LL TRY MY BEST TO HELP! }:D)

-sURPRISE ME (i'LL PICK ANY OFF THE LIST AND MAKE A NICE SURPRISE FOR YOU!)

-pOKEMON TEAM

-aESTHETIC ICONS (pROVIDES 3, PROVIDE AN AESTHETIC FOR ME TO BASE IT OFF OF, oR YOU CAN ASK ME TO PICK FOR YOU!)

-pLAYLIST (pROVIDES 5 SONGS, iF YOUR SOURCE IS NOT ON THE FOLLOWING LIST, pLEASE PROVIDE EXTRA INFORMATION ABOUT YOU AND YOUR SOURCE!)

-rECIPE KIT (6 RECIPES, pLEASE INCLUDE SPECIFICATIONS ON FOODS TO INCLUDE/AVOID!)

-hOME DECOR KIT

-vIDEO PLAYLIST (pROVIDES 5 VIDEOS, pLEASE SPECIFY WHAT TYPES OF VIDEOS (ASMR, aNIMATIONS, eTC,) yOU'D LIKE ME TO INCLUDE/AVOID!)

-tITLES (5 TITLES)

-wALLPAPER (540 X 960, fIT FOR A PHONE BACKGROUND) (1 WALLPAPER, pLEASE SPECIFY **SPECIFIC** DIMENSIONS IF YOU PLAN TO USE IT FOR A DIFFERENT DEVICE, iNCLUDE SPECIFIC AESTHETICS/OTHER CHARACTERS IF YOU'D LIKE THEM, iF NOT i WILL DO WHAT i THINK FITS BEST,)

sOURCES i KNOW BEST!

hOMESTUCK, yOUR fAVORITE mARTIAN, oMORI, pOKEMON, sPLATOON/sPLATOON MANGA, mY lITTLE pONY, tHE lEGEND oF zELDA, mARIO, cHAINSAW mAN, gORILLAZ, sPARKLECARE hOSPITAL, aNIMAL cROSSING, kIRBY, eNA, hELLUVA bOSS, bLUEY, gRAVITY fALLS, hOLLOW kNIGHT, fIVE nIGHTS aT fREDDY'S, bENDY AND THE iNK mACHINE, cUPHEAD, sPOOKY mONTH, fRIDAY nIGHT fUNKIN', sTRANGER tHINGS, bLACK bUTLER, sONIC tHE hEDGEHOG, lITTLEST PET SHOP, dEMON sLAYER, sUICIDE bOY, dOLL eYE, lINK cLICK, rICK AND mORTY, mY hERO aCADEMIA, tOTAL dRAMA, cHIKN nUGGIT, mADNESS cOMBAT, jUJUTSU kAISEN, aCE aTTORNEY, tHE aMAZING dIGITAL cIRCUS, tANKMEN, hIVESWAP, sALLY fACE, mETALOCALYPSE, oK kO, rEGRETEVATOR, dEAD pLATE, nEEDY sTREAMER oVERLOAD, pICO'S sCHOOL, pRESSURE,

bLACKLIST:

dSMP (i KNOW i USED TO DO THIS DESPITE NEVER BEING INTO IT OR KNOWING ANYTHING ABOUT IT, bUT i DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE ANYMORE WITH THE RECENT EVENTS, i AM NO LONGER DOING IT AS A WHOLE BECAUSE i DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH INFORMATION ON THE OTHER MEMBERS), tHE mAGIC sCHOOL bUS (pERSONAL REASONS), aLFRED'S pLAYHOUSE, fACTKIN (FACTIVES ARE FINE) AND ENDOGENIC SYSTEMS,

aNON LIST!: 🧡

sTUFF ABOUT ME! }:D

i AM FICTIONKIN/ID OF tAVROS nITRAM (hOMESTUCK), aND i HAVE MANY OTHERS, aS WELL AS IRLS AND COPINGLINKS! i AM A RED FOX THERIAN AND DEMONKIN! i AM BISEXUAL AND TRANS! i USE HE/BULL/TAUR/TROLL (AND MANY MORE) PRONOUNS!

dNI: bASIC DNI (hOMOPHOBIA, tRANSPHOBIA, rACISM, aBLEISM, fACISM, pEDOS/mAPS, zOOS, eTC,), aNTI-kIN, aNTI-tHERIAN, aNTI-fURRY, aNTI-xENOGENDER/nEOGENDER, aNTI-mCYT, aNTI-hOMESTUCK, aNTI-aGE REGRESSION/NSFW aGE REGRESSION, fACTKIN, eNDOS, pROSHIP, kINK BLOGS, xENOSATANISM, (mAY ADD MORE IN THE FUTURE,)

tHANKS FOR READING! lOOKING FORWARD TO REQUESTS! };)

jOIN THE SERVER, iF YOU'D LIKE!

[mayalaen]

prompts please 😊

Hello fellow fandom people! How do you do? I would like to request some prompts for the purposes of fic writing.

For reasons, I want to do 5 more short fics even though I struggle with keeping things under 20k. Each fic is for a different person, and I've chosen 1 thing about them that'll be a small part of each fic.

I have no clue what fandom, characters, and situations I want, so I'm asking for your help! It doesn't have to be discipline fic, but you know I'm always up for that!

I'm comfortable writing Supernatural, Stranger Things, 911+Lone Star, Leverage, The X-Files, The Blacklist, Stargate Atlantis, Fargo (Season 5), The Hardy Boys, and original fic. Maybe other fandoms if the prompt gets juices flowing?

The vague associations:

domestic fluff with a character who still uses the same Powerpuff Girls metal lunchbox he had as a kid even though everyone in the workplace teases him for it

kinky fun and/or discipline with a dom(me) domming a dom-leaning switch

a schizophrenic character but that's not the main point or the main character, although a silly misunderstanding because the main character is a dork and has fun/jokey reactions to his friend's hallucinations would be perfect

hot dogs. Yup that's all I got on this one 😂

bad driving skills. Like really bad. Take away the keys. Don't give them a license to begin with bad.

I'd appreciate any help on this whether it's another vague idea or a detailed outline 💜

[betterbesttvshowbracket]

current shows in each bracket so far (no particular order yet):

ask box and submissions open! all categories are up for debate. If you can make the case for moving a sitcom to cult classic or a misc. show to prestige, I'm open to hearing everyone out!

When each category has 32 shows locked in, I will seed them based on an average between viewership and ratings and open up the polls <3

CULT CATEGORY

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

X- Files

Columbo

MASH

Twin Peaks

Supernatural

Riverdale

Pushing Daisies

Firefly

Freaks and Geeks

Doctor Who (both)

Star Trek (original series)

Avatar the Last Airbender

Over the Garden Wall

Futurama

House MD

Sherlock

Dark Shadows

Hannibal

Fringe

Lost

Gilmore Girls

Roswell (og)

Skins UK

Midnight Gospel

Adventure Time

Angel

Eastbound and Down

Merlin

Twilight Zone

Dark

Charmed

Battlestar Galactica

"PRESTIGE" CATEGORY

Dirk Gently's

The Getdown

Succession

The Bear

Breaking Bad

Better Call Saul

Chernobyl

Game of Thrones

Boardwalk Empire

Atlanta

The Wire

Black Mirror

The Great

Big Little Lies

Justified

Mad Men

Yellowjackets

Interview with the Vampire

Black Sails

Fleabag

Yellowstone

Westworld

The Handmaid's Tale

Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Foundation

The Borgias

West Wing

True Detective

Deadwood

Mr. Robot

Band of Brothers

Fargo

Sopranos

Bojack

Boondocks

Downtown Abbey

Mind Hunter

I Hate Suzie

The Last of Us

Barry

White Lotus

Watchmen

Orange is the New Black

The Crown

Ozark

Narcos

Maniac

Undone

The Missing

Leverage

Six Feet Under

SITCOM CATEGORY

Seinfeld

Girlfriends

Bob's Burgers

Archer

The Good Place

Arrested Development

The Simpsons

The Office

Parks and Rec

30 Rock

Sex in the City

New Girl

Psych

Elementary

Abott Elementary

Community

Letterkenny

Modern Family

Scrubs

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Derry Girls

Blackish

Our Flag Means Death

Miracle Workers

What We Do in the Shadows

King of the Hill

Man Seeking Woman

Full House

Trailer Park Boys

Friends

Ted Lasso

Wilfred

That 70s Show

Girls

Broad City

Veep

Curb your Enthusiasm

Flight of the Concords

IT Crowd

Monk

Shameless

Documentary Now

Better Off Ted

Weeds

OTHER CATEGORY

The Vampire Diaries

Pretty Little Liars

Grey's Anatomy

Stranger Things

Smallville

One Tree Hill

You

Criminal Minds

Gotham

The Flash

Legends of Tomorrow

The Mandalorian

Daredevil

The Umbrella Academy

Legion

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Blacklist

The 100

Midnight Mass

Haunting of Bly Manor

How to Get Away with Murder

Gossip Girl (og)

The OC

Young Pope

Haunting of Hill House

Euphoria

Walking Dead

Peaky Blinders

Vikings

Supergirl

Dawson's Creek

Bunheads

The Society

Prison Break

True Blood

Normal People

American Horror Story

Squid Games

Dexter

The Boys

Queen's Gambit

The OA

ER

Spinning Out

[fadecrow]

I don’t get why so many people who are in the monster fucker/monster lover community are so against “feral” bodied/non-humanoid monsters like…

“That werewolf can’t consent it literally looks like a dog, that must be your pet dog. 😡” That alien looks too much like a snake, this is zoophilia. :/“ “That nonverbal jellyfish thing doesn’t have a discernible head or any humanlike proportions at all. Even though it’s literally psychic and could just read your mind, this is rape.”

These creatures aren’t real. The characters aren’t actual people. Their thoughts, wills, everything about them is controlled by the author. Period.

Does the artist/author say they’re capable of consent and are consenting? They can consent! They are consenting! No matter what you believe the OP’s “true intentions” were! Does the artist/author not give a shit bc it’s a standalone oneshot type of thing and leaves it up to the viewer? Imagine whatever scenario makes you not be an asshole about it and keep your negative thoughts to yourself!

The Harkness Test can be useful if we ever encounter real aliens or if you’re doing RP with strangers and haven’t discussed boundaries yet or whatever else affects people IRL. Using it for movie/book/game/original creatures in stuff made for individual consumption online is fucking stupid. It doesn’t matter. Don’t like it? Block or blacklist whatever you need so you can control your feed. Or ignore it. Scroll past! Press that little x button on the top of your window! No one’s holding you hostage to the internet!

And no one’s getting hurt if we break the Harkness Test to make porn of Deathclaws or whatever. A Deathclaw isn’t gonna become reactive and maul someone to death and need to be put down. A Deathclaw isn’t gonna commit because it got too attached to humans and then got abandoned. A Deathclaw isn’t gonna accompany a Mutant Animal Rights Activist to come hand you a cash reward for protecting it from “abuse” in fan art. They’re not real. They can’t suffer harm. Leave artists and authors alone.

[skzthelomlhehe]

GGUM Boy (street dancer YEONJUN x F!idol Reader)

Genre: romance, smut, Angst, strangers to lovers

Warnings: mentions of ED, h!tt!ng, depictions of violence and @buse, fingering, unprotected sex. Viewer discretion is advised.

Description: you find yourself seeking comfort from a street dancer after a hectic day at work as an idol. After his show, when he sees you in distress, he offers to give you a gum. You would come back again the next day as if it were a routine and soon this turned into an everyday habit. One day you couldn't take it anymore and decided to escape after years of @buse

A/N: Hey people! Author is back again lolol I came across Ggum a few days ago. Albeit a bit late but hey, that shit is BUSSIN' fr. Anyways so this is kinda like an inspiration cuz I wanted this to be cute again cuz I'm a sucker for comforting lmao anyways! Hope you guys enjoy it! (Also go stream GGUM!!)

A/N again after i've finished writing the entire thing. I didn't realize how angsty it would become. I originally wanted something with very little angst but it sorta turned dark real quick. I hope yall still enjoy tho!

Vibe with:

You slowly woke up, your eyelids felt heavy and your head felt like it would explode. A familiar beep fed to your consciousness. You looked around to see a familiar yet unfamiliar white room. Saline tube attached to your hand, a white blanket draped on you and the same hospital garments. You had gotten used to it. It's no longer something that would confuse, surprise or worry you. A hospital bed you've seen far too much.

Having gained a bit more consciousness, you notice a familiar figure walking in. "Ah. You're awake already?" It was your manager. "D... Did I pass out... Again...?" You asked weakly. You barely had much energy to speak. Your manager just nodded and sighed before sitting down on the bedside stool. "here, I got you some fruits"

You used to be a member of a famous k-pop girl Group. But given the circumstances you guys had to face because of the management, the others called it quits. You stayed, although. At first it was because you couldn't afford breaking the contract. But then, you fell in love with being an idol. Your company threatened that if you were to leave now, they would blacklist you. You couldn't bear that.

So now, here you were. Looking out the hospital window feeling conflicted. "I cut up the fruits. Make sure to eat it. And the company gave you a month off since you're obviously in no shape to continue. Make sure you take care of yourself." Your manager said, quite coldly.

She wasn't the worst person you've met. Not the best either. She was mostly indifferent. Glancing at you with pity everytime you were overworked. She would do her work quietly. Not an extra word. You knew you needed to suck up just another few months. Once you're contract was over, there was no looking back.

Even if you got blacklisted, you knew you could get a job anywhere. Well, you used to be a singer at your local bar after all. Anyone would be more than happy to take you in. You have endured 6 whole years in this company. A few months shouldn't be any harder. That's what you thought at least.

They kept overworking you. More than ever. They always put you in a strict diet. And now? You could barely eat anything. You looked at the bowl of cut up fruits on the desk. You sat up, struggling to do so with no one to aid you. Taking the bowl in your hand, you brought a slice of apple close to your lips.

Just as you did, your heart thumped, your body sweating profusely, tears built up in your eyes as you recalled all the times you were forced to starve and called vulgar names for eating. You couldn't eat. The sight of food terrified you. So you just set the bowl down back at the desk untouched, left to rot.

You pulled away the needle on your hand that was connected to some medical machinery you couldn't bother thinking of. It was ironic how the sight of the littlest drop of blood freaked you out but now you just stared blankly at your bleeding hand. You ruffled through the drawer. It always had some bandages inside.

You took a towel and cleaned up the blood and covered the wound with bandages. You put on a coat over your hospital garments and headed out. Despite how busy the place was, you went unnoticed. It was sad... No one quite cared but... You also felt a sense of freedom in it.

You headed out and grabbed a taxi. You knew exactly where you needed to go. The fountain. It was sort of a safe place to you. You would come here every time you felt overwhelmed. Usually it was quiet but today it was more lively. You paid the fare and saw a crowd gathered in front of the fountain.

Curiosity pulled you towards the bustling pack even though you didn't like it. You peeped through to see a man dancing. A man so handsome that you've never seen before. He had red hair. He wore a black hoodie with black shorts. His moves were sharp and smooth. Each step drew you in. He had this... This aura... It was breathtaking to say the least.

The way he danced to the Song, the rhythm, the beat. All of it was something you could watch for hours. As the dance came to an end, the cheers became louder. Everyone had enjoyed greatly. "Thanks for the support, everyone!" The guy yelled out. His voice made you blush for some reason.

The crowd slowly cleared out. The area became as quiet as you were used to. Except, the man sat down chewing a gum while looking at his hat filled with tips from the bystanders.

He looked at you and smiled with a wave. You were caught off guard. Looking around and then pointing at yourself in shock. The man chuckled, nodding a yes. Involuntarily, your legs moved and you found yourself walking closer to him.

"hey!" He greeted you cheerfully. "Hi..." You greeted back, albeit a bit weak. He patted on the space beside him, asking you to take a seat. You complied without so much so a hint of hesitation and sat down. "here have this" he handed you a thin strip of gum.

"what's this?" You asked. As if you didn't already know. "uh.. gum?" He looked at you confused. Your ears flushed red as you took it from him. "r-right! Thanks!"

"I've seen my fair share of hospital Runaways. Didn't think anyone would come here though." He chewed on his gum, stuffing the rest in his bag before looking at you, "so? Which hospital did you run away from?"

"is... Is it that obvious?" You asked, a tinge of fear running down your spine. "well... You're wearing hospital pants so... Unless that's the fashion within the idols these days~" he shrugged.

You were astonished by what he said. "idol? You... You know me?" "Well. I've seen you around a lot. TVs, social media and stuff. Im surprised not many people recognise you 'round here. Do you only have international fans or something?"

You looked down, fiddling with the gum wrapper after having popped the gum in your mouth, "No that's not it... People just... Usually recognise the... Uhh... Dolled up, pretty, showable idol me. So now that I'm here, in a hooded jacket and hospital garments with no make up or so much so my hair done... I guess people don't exactly recognize me." A smile perked up your face. It was bitter, a faint smile that tried it's hardest to hide the pain.

The unknowingly comforting man looked at you with sad eyes before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer into a side hug. "well whatever! I'm your fan now. I recognized you when I laid my eyes on you!" He looked at you with a bright jolly glance. Had it been any other person, man or woman alike, you would've pushed them away. But right now, for some reason, you felt comfortable with this man.

You found your arms trailing around his waist into a hug. He pulled you closer. That was the warmest hug you'd felt in years. And to think it would be some stranger you met near your comfort place. It deemed funny to your bland life as you broke into a chuckle slightly less than a laugh.

The man ruffled your head above the hood and chuckled as well. "Im Yeonjun by the way. Choi Yeonjun." He introduced himself. You broke out of the hug, looking into his sparkly eyes full of life. "Im... Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Yeonjun-ssi."

"Ah! Look at you. Seems like your face finally has some life in it! You look so much more prettier this way!" He said cheerfully. Your eyes filled with tears that had been built inside for years. Tears that had no chance to escape finally found an exit and you fell sobbing.

"wha- ah! No! Don't cry, now!" He squabbled. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong!" Your tears refused to stop as he tried his best to comfort you, pulling you into a hug again. "no... No. It's not your fault. I'm sorry I just... So much has been going on and... I... I don't know why I'm crying I just..." Words refused to leave your lips as you scrambled to halt your unstoppable tears.

"shh... It's okay... Im here... Calm down... Everything's okay.." he comforted. You hid your face within the palms of your hand resting your head on his comforting warm chest.

After some crying, you finally calmed down. Your face was a mess. "I'm sorry I... I really don't know why I started crying all of a sudden..." You apologised. "Hey hey it's okay... Sometimes you just need to let it all out. And it seemed like you held it in for a long time. Look at you, such a mess, aeish" he replied calmly.

You sniffled, wiping your face. Your cheeks and nose red. Your eyes swollen. "uhm... My place is nearby. Do you wanna stop by and calm down a little? I'm pretty sure you could use something warm to drink right now." Kindness overflowed in his voice, his gaze and his acts. You were scared, what if he wasn't what he showed to be? But at this point... You really had nothing to lose. You practically had no family and friends since all personal connections got estranged because of your career. You're very close to quitting your job anyway. Right now... All you truly wanted was to let go. There's this unexplained trust you had in the man. That's why, nodding in approval, you decided to push aside your worries and go with the flow. It just... Felt right.

"great then!" He led you to his bike. Packing up his stuff, taking out a helmet. "I don't really have a spare one. Why don't you wear this?" He said, handing the object to you. "oh, no no! It's fine!" You stuttered. "come on. If I knew I would pick up such a pretty and talented lady, I would've come prepared. Plus, we don't want you to feel uncomfortable so just put it on!"

You opened your mouth to say something but he shushed you down. And just like that, you obeyed again. You were so used to obeying commands that you almost felt pathetic.

(weee bit of a side note, dont follow strangers omg-)

Brushing off your feelings, you let the man drive to wherever he wanted. The ride on the bike made you feel like a bird flying freely for the first time since you became a solo artist 5 years ago. you let your hands open like wings feeling the air.

The man just chuckled at the peculiar sight. And yet, he found it rather endearing. A soft blush creeped up his face, painting his nape and his cheeks a pretty pink.

After a while, you both reached his abode. It was a small apartment. A quiet and peaceful environment. As you walked down the corridor, you could hear the people inside. Some cheery... Some angered. You found yourself remembering your days before becoming an idol. You used to barely make ends meet but were happy. And now? It feels like you're locked up in a fancy prison everyone envies.

"Come in!" Yeonjun holds the door open with a smile. You nod with a soft smile before entering. Taking off the hospital slippers you found yourself feeling a sense of unexplainable warmth. "Thank you... For having me..." you muttered, loud enough to be heard. The other smiled and patted your head. "Make yourself home. I'll go get some warm milk. Or would you like anything else?" "No... Milk is okay."

He smiled and nodded. Moments later bringing a tray of two glasses of warm milk and some cookies. You both chatted, he told you a lot about himself. How he always wanted to be an idol and reach many people across the world, his history everything. probably to make you feel more comfortable.

You felt good, happy even. That was until your manager called furiously asking where you were. You didn't say much. "Just wait for me in front of the market." The market was a bit further from the fountain. You didn't want anyone to know that it was somewhere you came often.

With sad eyes, you asked Yeonjun to drop you off. He smiled, giving you another pat on the head and nodding. He dropped you off as promised and left almost immediately. You didn't want anyone to see him and possibly take away an innocent person you felt safe around.

Soon, this became a daily routine. During your time off, you would often visit the fountain. When you got back to work, you would sneak out during breaks or at night to visit him. The fountain now held another meaning for you.

You both exchanged contacts. Talking to him everyday made your life more bearable. Every time, he would welcome you with endless warmth. And slowly you started developing special feelings. It didn't come by at once. It was slow and took time. Almost 4 months had passed. Just 3 more months to bear. And then you'd be free.

One day, during dance practice, you had a hard time learning the moves. Your body refused to coordinate because of the endless practices. You felt worn out. But your choreographer refused to acknowledge that fact. Losing her mind, she slapped you hard. Hard enough for your lip to nick and bleed. "DON'T YOU FEEL ASHAMED OF BEING SO WORTHLESS?! WHAT EVEN CAN YOU DO?!" she yelled.

That was it. That was your final straw. You couldn't take it anymore. And you snapped like a thread barely holding on. "YOU THINK I WANNA BE USELESS?! MAYBE IF YOU COULD BE MORE OF A HUMAN THAN A MONSTROSITY THEN YOU WOULD'VE UNDERSTOOD WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK I'M GOING THROUGH!!" With that, you received another blow. She must've thrown something at you making you fall to the ground. And with that, blows after blows fell on you. Your vision blurred. Your mind fuzzy.

You could barely make out a few people hurrying over and taking her back. The last thing you saw and heard was your manager looking at you with contempt. "Should've just shut the fuck up. Why do you need to be such a bitch?" She said coldly. And with that you lost consciousness.

You awoke to a dim light of your room. You looked around, your body felt heavy, weak and hurting. Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffled wondering where it went wrong. Barely getting up, you took out your phone that you kept hidden to make sure no one finds it.

The first thing you did was give him a call. It rang for a few seconds before you heard the click of him picking up. "Heyyy cutiieee~" The older said cheerfully. Tears rolled down your bruised cheek. "Oppa..." You called weakly. "Hey hey what's wrong? Why do you sound like that?? Are you ok??" He seemed worried. Very worried.

You shut your lips tightly to not make too much noise. "I... I can't do this anymore. Please... Please take me away from here... I beg you..." you sniffled. "Where are you right now? I'll come get you." His voice was stern. But it was comforting. "The pool... It's the closest from here... I can't go further than that. Please come pick me up.." There is a swimming institution which is 10 minutes away from the building by foot.

You got up, barely able to move. Your body felt like it would break apart. But you needed to do this. You needed to get away. Taking a few things like money, your phone, purse etc in a bag and putting on a jacket. You barely managed to sneak out. It's not the first time you've snuck out so you knew exactly how you needed to go. It was tough since you were hurt. But you escaped.

It was around 2:30 am. No taxis or rides in sight. Everything silent and still. The night air was chilling. It sent shivers down your spine. You felt fear but also relief. You ran and ran. Your feet felt like they would tear apart but that didn't stop you.

After what felt like hours, you were finally there. You made out a figure standing. You stopped, feeling scared. "Y/N?" the figure called out. Without another thought you ran right into his arms. The adrenaline rush stopped abruptly and your body gave out. You remember hearing Yeonjun call out to you. But you were tired and in pain.

You woke up again, a familiar surrounding. This time, not a cold hospital room but rather a warm room, not too soft but not too hard bed just comfortable, smell of tea spread through the room calming your nerves. Your eyes opened, your sight seemingly better as you looked around.

A familiar figure called out to you again, but this time, with warmth, "Y/N? Are you up? Can you hear me?" The voice called out. "O... Oppa...?" You replied. It was Yeonjun. "Ah thank God you're awake. Can you get up?" He helped you sit up, handing you a warm cup of tea and a bowl of fruits.

You had a hard time. You couldn't drink or eat. It was difficult. But seeing the earnest look on the other's face, you gave in and ate. For the first time, what you ate didn't make you feel sick. For the first time you didn't want to throw up. It was... Comforting. You ate up the fruits in an instant. You had been hungry for so long. You had been scared for so long that you forgot how much you loved to eat at some point of your life.

Yeonjun explained what had happened after you passed out. He brought you back, changed your dressing and put on some spare clothes on you. You both blushed at the thought of him seeing your naked body. You told him everything. How you became an idol, got abused and mistreated, and why you ran away.

He hugged you tight, tears rolling down his face as he heard your story. He comforted you. It was the first time you felt such great level of comfort from someone. You cried in his arms, the dim light felt as comforting as ever.

"we need to get you out of there. You... You'll die at this point." He cried. "I... I've been secretly collecting evidence... Of their misdeeds. Voice recordings, hidden camera recordings... I have enough. I was waiting for the right time and I think it's the right time now." You replied. "But... I... I don't wanna think about it now. I... Let's... Let's do something else please.."

"do you wanna sleep? You can take the bed. I can sleep on the couch." He said, caressing your head. You held onto him, "n..no! Stay... Stay with me please... I don't want to be alone tonight... Please oppa..." You pleaded.

He hugged you again, "ok... I'll stay... I'll stay as long as you want." He got on the bed, laying down beside you, pulling the sheets over the both of you. You nuzzled into his chest as he held you close.

You looked up at him, your faces close, lips barely inches apart. You gave in to your inhibitions and leaned closer. Your lips touched into a soft kiss. When you broke out of the kiss you expected him to be surprised. Repulsed even. While although his eyes were surprised, they weren't repulsed. He took a deep breath before holding you by the chin gently, pulling you close into a deeper kiss.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your hands gripped his shirt while his hand held the back of your head. Your tongue darted out, licking his lips before twirling in a beautiful rhythm with his tongue.

Your hands trailed to his crotch. He broke the kiss, both of you panting. "Do... Do you really wanna do this...?" He asked. You nodded, "I do... I wanna do it... With you..." "but... you're hurt... what if you get hurt more?" his eyes glinted in concern while all you did was softly chuckle, "I'll be fine. So just do it... please?" you held his face gently before sharing another passionate kiss.

He got on top of you, slow and steady to not hurt you, leaving wet kisses down your neck. He took your shirt off slowly, his eyes tearing up at the sight of your bruise body. He's seen it not even an hour ago and yet it was hard for him to accept someone could hurt a person like you.

He glided his hands down your torso making you mewl, a drop of tear rolling down his face, "They... Why did they do this to you.. ? What kind of a monster would..." He choked. You held him close, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, "I'm okay... You're here with me now. I don't care about anything else." "I... I'm sorry I didn't come get you sooner..." he sobbed as if he cried your tears. You smiled at how innocent and pure this man was. "Shh... It's okay... I don't care how long it takes... As long as you're here... I'll be okay..."

{Fair warning: the actual smut starts from here}

You kissed his tear stained cheeks as he took his own shirt off. Nibbling and sucking on your nipple he fondled with the other. His free hand trailed down to your thighs. He leaned down, licking and kissing your inner thighs. "You're so beautiful, Y/N... I promise I'll protect you..." his voice was as comforting as ever. You felt like you would just melt in his arms.

He reached for your soaking panties, taking it off as gently as he could, careful with every touch and every step. His fingers reached for your slick, his tongue darted out to savor your swollen bud. He held open your folds with his thumb while inserting his fingers into your pulsating hole.

Your fingers entangled in his hair as you moaned softly in pleasure. Your legs wrapped around his shoulder as your back arched from the sensation. "Fu... Fuuuck..." You mewled, your body trembling and flinching in immense pleasure. "F-faster... I want it faster, please...?"

He complied to your wishes, thrusting another finger in, fastening his pace as he sucked and nibbled on your bud. "Does that feel good..?" he asked, his voice low and husky. All you could do was nod and moan. He climbed up on you again, his fingers still busy thrusting your core as he pulled you in to a deep kiss.

"O.. Oppa... Yeonjun oppa..." you moaned, holding on to him tight, "I want you... I want you inside me... Please..." He was hesitant at first but soon gave in to your urges. "If it makes her forget... Even if for a moment... I would rather she trembles in pleasure than in pain." He thought to himself before pulling out of you.

"Anything that makes you happy..." he said before pulling off his pants revealing his throbbing member. You gulped at the sight of his size, feeling a sort of disbelief. "W... Will that fit me...?" it wasn't a big monstrosity but definitely bigger than average. He leaned down kissing your cheek, "I won't do anything that'll hurt you so relax. It's okay.."

He positioned himself on your entrance, rubbing the tip of his cock on you before gently pushing it in. You clenched the sheets, a wave of pain washing over you. "F-fuck... That hurts..." you hissed. "I-I'm sorry... Do you wanna stop?" You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. Tears streamed down your rosy cheeks as you kissed him softly. "No.. Keep going... I can take it."

He nodded at your approval, pushing his member in even further. You winced in pain, biting your lip. He gently held your chin, gliding his thumb over your lips, "Don't bite yourself... Bite me instead." His voice was gentle and soothing. He kissed you again as he shoved even more of his length while you bit his lower lip. Your nails dug on his back scratching his smooth skin.

"It's... It's in..." he groaned, "fuck... you're so tight... relax, baby... i'm gonna snap in half at this point..." he huffed having put his entire length in. "I'm... I'm gonna move now okay?" you nodded, your eyes shut. He brushed the hair out of your face, "Open your eyes, darling... Look at me... please..." he pleaded.

You slowly opened your eyes. His smile grew. The sight in front of you was ethereal. "Fu... Fuck me, oppa... I want you to wreck me up, please." He chuckled at your cute demeanor while you pout and punched him softly on his chest. He held your hand, placing a soft kiss on it before pulling out a little and thrusting in with much force making you yelp out a moan.

Soon, what was once a wince of pain turned to an ungodly wave of pleasure. You were a moaning mess while he groaned and moaned ever so often. The room filled with the sounds of your skins slapping against each other, your moans entwined and the humidity of both your sweaty bodies lusting and loving. "You... You're so fucking beautiful... I feel like... I feel like I'm gonna melt..." he groaned, his eyes locked onto yours.

Your eyes looked back in a daze. Kissing him messily, it felt like you were high on some drug. You mind a fuzzy mess, all you could think about is the man in front of you. "When was the last time I lost my mind like this...?" You thought to yourself.

You felt a knot form in the depths of your core, your moans louder than ever, "Oppa~!! Cumming! I'm cumming!" you gripped onto him tighter. "I'm close too... Let's do it together, yeah? You can cum however much you want. Let loose, baby. I'm here... You're safe here..." he groaned, kissing you softly all over your face while his pace fastened.

You wrapped your legs around him, letting go of all the emotions you've held on to along with your climax. Both of you came together all over each other. He flopped on you, his warm weight feeling comforting to you, a mumble left your lips, "I... I love you so much..." and with that, you passed out.

You opened your eyes again, the warm sunlight peeking through the curtains woke you up. You looked around unable to recall where you were. "Oh? You're awake? You should sleep more. I bet you're still tired." a familiar voice spoke out.

You smiled and tried to get up but failed miserably. Your entire body ached as you hissed in pain. "Ahh.. that hurts..." You mumbled. "Hey hey don't get up. You had a tough night. Rest up." Yeonjun rushed to you.

You looked up at him with sparkly eyes, "Good morning..." a cute whisper left your lips. He chuckled, "Good morning to you too, jagii~" his voice was smooth and soothing. It calmed your nerves immediately as a smile trailed up your face again. "I do hope you remember what you said yesterday though~"

"I said..?" you looked at him confused before a wave of memories flooded in.

what had happened...

"You... You do...?" Yeonjun asked, a delightful surprise in his voice. All you did was give him a tired nod. He chuckled, "I love you too, pabo~" A weak yet satisfied smile creeped up your face. He nuzzled his nose against yours. Brushing out the strands of hair from your face, he looked at you with loving eyes. "So.. does that mean we're dating now~?" You looked at him with tired yet sparkly eyes, "Yeah..." you muttered before drifting off to sleep. He chuckled, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Alright... Good night, cutie~"

{End of flashback}

Your cheeks flushed a bright red as you hurried to hide yourself underneath the blankets. He laughed, pulling the blanket away from your face, leaning closer, "What? Regretting your decision?" he asked. You shook your head, "No... How could I..?" you mumbled. "Then what are you doing? Kiss me already." he smiled. You complied and both of you shared a soft loving kiss.

Later, you started a live-stream. Given your popularity, more than a thousand joined the stream. You presented all the evidence you had collected. Video clips, voice recordings, pictures, any and everything you collected over the years. The stream gained a lot of attention and became viral almost immediately. After a long lawsuit war, you won the case and the company was shut down. Other idols also spoke up and justice was served.

The company went bankrupt and banned by the beginning of winter. 'Revenge is best served cold' they say. It was served cold, alright. With the power in your hands, you started a company of your own becoming the youngest to own a successful company. Yeonjun, along with other idols in similar position as yours helped a great deal.

Your story soon gained a lot of recognition. People all across the world bashed the previous company as you rose to fame. Your company gained numerous extremely talented individuals. And thus... your first boy band was formed. TXT. Starring Yeonjun in it. You named your company "FounGum Entertainment" to honor the fountain which led you to where you are now and that single strip of gum which marked the beginning of a journey with your (secret) lover.

It'd be lie if I said the rest was a happy ending. Every journey has it's ups and downs. The ending is just the beginning and now it's your turn to write your own story.

This marks the end of "Ggum boy"! It became longer than I thought it would but I hope you guys enjoyed reading!