#the second i finish all my work (hopefully they don't pile more on me) i wanna write something

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

the idea of self-inserting myself into a dca thing for ramathan is so funny to me because on one hand they're probably gonna be over the moon (ahaha get it) that I'd stop cursing and that i sleep earlier and wake up later but at the same time moon himself would actually snap a wire if he found out that I basically need to wake up at 4:45-5:00 in the morning to eat food and then not eat until 7:00

[juustozzi]

@thepinksky18 hello, and thank you sm!! <3 I hope it's okay to reply like this, I got kinda carried away with reference images..! I can try to share some things that help me with my art, hopefully they'll be of some help for you too!

when I do group pics like this, the thing I focus on the most is how everything looks and feels together! details and stuff can wait for later, first is to figure out that the overall picture works, and the characters are in balance with each other!

I'll use the Tenma horse pic you replied to as an example, will be continued under read more!

here's the sketches for the art! the very first sketch is very simple and blocky (I usually use a thick brush) to just settle everything in place and see how it all works out. the second sketch is more detailed and sometimes deviates from the first sketch a lot, if something seems to work better some other way.

depending on the complexity of the finished art, I do just these two sketches or add one more even detailed one, but the last sketch before lineart is the one I tweak the most! usually I draw characters on different layers so it's easy to select them separately and resize, fix proportions or positions, etc. to make the big picture look good to you!

here's the lineart (which could also be the 3rd sketch) compared to the previous layer. now I'm adding more details, but I still keep fixing the overall image - you can see how the lineart doesn't quite match the sketch in places: hikaru is shorter, the position of aoi's feet and tenma's hind legs are different, etc. some people like to do a very detailed sketch and practically trace their lineart over it, and if that's what feels good for you, go for it! I'm the kind to just throw lines over vague sketch and call it a day, especially with more simple drawings like this :,)

there's good tutorials and studies on bodies and proportions online already so I'm not going to even try to speak about those, but I got a few tips! I tend to do them in my mind nowadays, but I tried to draw them out for easier visualization!

I mentioned earlier how for me the main thing is that everything's balanced, right? that also inclues characters and their proportions. I think that in group pics it's more important the characters work out together, not so much if their insividual proportions are perfect. especially if there's notable differences between them - height, bulk, lenght of limbs, and so on! a few pixels here and there don't matter in the overall image, but for example with Shinsuke who is Tiny, it's important for me to really make him smaller than others.

my most used tool is a scale chart! it helps to visualize the proportions for the characters, even when they're piled up like in the example doodle, or otherwise not in a neat row on the horizon line. (again, separate layers help you tweak them individually if needed! there's no need to get them right on the first try, especially when drawing digitally when there's layers.)

if your drawing eye hasn't gotten used to proportions, the chart can also be used to make a neat little ruler to check your sketch! the rulers over the sketch are all same size, just moved around; tsurugi and shinsuke fit in pretty well, and while Tenma's torso is a little long (even when taking into accound he's a little bent from waist, which makes him even taller when straightened out), it's not by much and it wouldn't bother my eye.

and while I myself sometimes tend to be a slave for the references and get gray hair over minor details, or of some part of the anatomy is off and I can't fix it the way I want, the overall feeling and style mean a lot more! I think it's important to put some thought into the proportions especially if you feel like wanting to make progress with your art, but if it's getting too stressful or draining the joy of drawing out of you, then screw it and just have fun! (I say this as someone who has learned not from studying anatomy and stuff, but instead just. has drawn a shitton and had fun while at it. I think getting comfortable with just creating is the bigges step you can take!)

...oops, sorry if this got too long or off the rails! and yeah hopefully you (and anyone else reading all this) got something out of it!

[empty-pizza]

thoughts on nona the ninth epilogue and thoughts on the book and series overall

Some of you might not have checked the blog today and will just, come back to this post to find that I decided to read 2/3 of the book today and finish it. It was good but it wasn't just because it was good, I kinda just felt like finishing. I'm kind of exhausted and I'm not sure how much my lack of understanding of what's going down at the end comes down to the book being confusing, and how much is me having no more energy.

anyway

alecto breaking out

oh great we talking all shakespeare like now, this is really making it easy to follow (i am just very sleepy)

which fuckin child is who

okay so harrow is awake now (the fuck was all that going on with the tower then)

alright from alecto's attempt to kiss

i can understand why the lyctors would have called her a monster

okay so the ninth is the line of anastasia

so alecto is swearing herself to harrow

and gideon called her a slut

as it should be, i suppose

damn and she just

went and said hi to john

and stabbed him and he said good morning

man what the FUCK does any of this imply

i do not have the brain power to process any of these layers

like, what the fuck did john plan on, or want to happen

the river is DEAD? the fuck does that mean

what the fuck is any of this shit

give me answers

j;aijdgoiahdhuipfuoifhnoanononho;oi;oi;hasdi

asid;uihadso;fpihaj[POUIAHNDSO['IGH

gadzoinks

DOUIUHGIOWEOG

Anyway yeah I'd say this was the best book in the series so far. I generally enjoyed Nona's character more than the prior two protagonists. I enjoy when childish, whimsical, naive personalities are expressed realistically through prose. I also enjoyed gradually learning more about how Nona thinks and just what she is.

The plot kept its momentum better than the second book, and followed through with a better climax than the first book. I've spoken about what I disliked about those aspects of the earlier books in prior posts. Here, the situation kept changing and developing enough that it didn't get too stale. Even without Nona driving most of the changes, it felt like she had an effect on the things around her.

I'm kind of hoping the next book begins right after we left off. We already did big timeskips twice in a row, and we haven't even answered everything that happened in the last one.

My brain is just muddled in so many questions about magic mechanics, character motivations, character history, et cetera et schmetera, that I don't even know how to put into words yet.

Part of my satisfaction here is that I think the pacing of reveals was really good in this book. It kept piling on more and more the closer it got to the end. But it really just slammed me with a bunch more questions by the ends. Reveals that raise more questions are great, and this is the right time for them considering it's the penultimate book in the series, but jeez, I am just brain strained right now. My brain has gone through one of those machines where you turn the crank and the dough goes through and comes out as spaghetti shaped. Except like, in reverse, because my brain is smoother now.

I think this has been an overall strong series, but it's somewhat unique in that the lore was the main thing I cared about. Or at least, I cared about it disproportionately to how much I usually do. That's not to say that there wasn't great character work here; I totally understand those who primarily love this series for the characters. I think I posted plenty about how interesting many of them are; hopefully that speaks for itself.

In general, it does tend to focus more on static characters. Not every character is like this, but a lot of them don't really change much (not during books), but instead only get tested at key moments to demonstrate their beliefs and conviction. Which is a totally fine approach, when the characters are interesting people, and you can instead drive things a bit more via learning more about them. When changes do occur, it's often offscreen entirely — just look at Corona and Gideon this book.

It kind of comes down to what drives you to read the next chapter. I almost always wanted to read more to learn about the lore. I often, but not always, was curious about where the plot would go next, how predicaments would be solved. And I was interested in how characters would grow or change... less than average, I'd say.

Though, the line between lore and learning more about who characters are was often blurred. I'm just not sure how much it will appeal to me personally once I already know everything about them. Maybe it'll work great on reread someday, maybe it won't.

I think I'd call this one a strong 8/10. Definitely gonna develop my thoughts on this more in the coming days but I really need to get to sleep soon.

I kind of wonder in what ways these stories will stick with me, when my experience was so lore driven. I feel like my opinion on book 2 has gone down slightly since I finished it, as the high of the reveals wore off and I felt kind of dissatisfied a few other aspects. I definitely liked the plot/characters in this book more, but I still just need to see how I settle on feeling about it all in retrospect. I mean the thing is, when you're that driven by lore, I prefer when it sticks the landing. If I don't personally like the answers in the final book I might lose a little love for the series as a whole.

Edit: To clarify this point a little, it's really that there's two kinds of reveals. There's the ones that are actual reveals, which tended to be really interesting. And there's the ones that mostly engaged me on the basis of "this tiny detail could be implying really insane things later." Some of which paid off, some of which still haven't. It's a fun feeling to engage with while reading, but for me it relies not just on the reveals paying off, but me being left with an overall feeling that engaging with the narrative in that way was worthwhile. If the series ends up not really caring about rewarding readers for paying attention that much (which I'm not saying will happen, it's just always a possibility) then that takes away a lot of my enjoyment retroactively.

Of course, it's also possible that if I did a reread, I'd end up appreciating the character work a lot more than the first read, and end up caring about the lore a lot less! This is just what I engaged with on this read and my present experience. I definitely can't say I understand everything about the characters, so there might even be whole layers to how they grow and change that I just didn't pick up on here.

Fun series and I really enjoyed liveblogging it! I hope you don't mind me kind of just, rushing through the final book today. Trust me, that was out of enjoyment primarily (also the library has kind of wanted these back for a while). I appreciate everyone who enjoyed my posts and commented things, and I'll definitely be sticking around and reading more comments as I try to make sense of all the shit I just read. I hope you enjoyed my first-timer thoughts.

[zprites]

Lucifer x Female OC Below!!!

Oh hey, wow it's been a while since I've shared anything I've written, huh? Well I have good news! I have multiple wips that I will finish this year so be on the look out (nothing TMNT related unfortunately, for my hyperfixations have gone all over the place... oops).

Yes, I fell down the Hazbin/Helluva hole and I don't see me leaving anytime soon. So read this! I wrote a little drabble for @unknownfanartist (who I love and adore, no matter how much she stinks <3) with her OC, Penelope (you can find her info here) and Lucifer. Just a small SFW brainworm that ate at me earlier and I had to stop writing my Alastor fic to appease the little wriggler.

This is not proof-read in the slightest so if you see any mistakes, no you don't. *points a can of silly string right at you*

Enjoy!

Diamonds and Coal

When left alone with his thoughts, Lucifer found himself wondering where he went wrong. Sure, he had the chance now to be there for his daughter, supporting her endeavors to lead Sinners down the path of redemption, no matter how fruitless he believed the idea to be. That was until he got word from Heaven that the first ever redeemed soul had crossed the pearly gates during the last extermination, and everything he knew had been pulled into question. 

Was he wrong to dismiss Sinners so easily? He supposed he could chalk up his view to his own regrets in life. Countless nights were spent feeling bitter over his previous actions, hating the fact he granted free will to all of humanity without so much as a second thought. He even began to hate himself for it.

But now, watching Charlie bring her dream to life, something he tried and ultimately failed to do, he knew that he made the right choice. He’d met so many Sinners who have chosen to call the hotel their ‘home’ and honestly, he was growing rather fond of them all. 

Especially her. 

Penelope… After meeting the woman who was the hotel’s resident art therapist all those months ago, the woman was still an enigma to him. She was quiet, so much so that he sometimes forgot she was in the same room as him, though that was in the beginning. As of late, he couldn’t walk into a room without first looking for the artist and upon spotting the brunette, Lucifer would make his way towards her and start a conversation. Well, ‘conversation’ was putting it mildly. They were more one-sided than anything. Not that he minded one bit, he could talk uninterrupted for hours.

He just couldn’t figure out what her deal was. 

She often kept to herself, really only interacting with other guests to help with exercises that would hopefully help them through whatever hang ups and traumas they may have. And it seemed like she had a lot of her own, from what little Lucifer could glean from her. Yet he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. It didn’t help that she was beautiful. 

He had no idea when his compliments on her art shifted to flirtatious remarks aimed at her. Maybe it was when he found out about Lilith spending the past seven years in Heaven after their separation, wanting nothing to do with her family and actively trying to thwart all the hard work their daughter has put into this place? Or maybe it was when he first realized his stance on Sinners was not fair to the souls who were giving redemption an honest chance?

It was true he thought that all Sinners were nothing but violent psychopaths. He had even thought the same about her, assuming whatever she had done while she was alive was something that could never be forgiven. But he was proven wrong - not all Sinners were like that. Maybe she wasn’t as well. After all, she was choosing to help people with her craft. She couldn’t really be all that bad, right?

The answer to that question came to him much quicker than he’d anticipated.

It was like any other night. He was up late as usual, looking over a seemingly never ending pile of paperwork that only grew each morning. However as he looked over some new plans for the hotel that Charlie had handed him earlier, the words on the page were beginning to blur, a clear sign that he needed to take a break.

With a groan, he pushed himself up to his feet and stepped out of his room. Some fresh air would do him some good…

Though as he walked towards the expansive balcony near the rear of the building, he noticed a light on at the end of the hallway, a familiar humming emanating from the room. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself moving on his own towards the artist’s studio. Inside, Penelope sat on a stool in front of a large canvas that almost reached the ceiling, the colors appearing blocky and barely resembling any shapes except at the bottom where she worked. After looking at the painting for a few moments, he could glean that it appeared to be a depiction of water, the figure of a woman laying underneath it, reaching towards the surface while several air bubbles escaped her open mouth. 

As if sensing she was being watched, the woman ceased her song and turned to look at where he stood in the doorway.

A nervous chuckle escaped him as he waved. “Ah, knock knock…?”

Way to sound like an idiot, idiot, he chastised himself mentally.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” Penelope asked, her voice holding a monotonous and even tone that seemed to never leave her. He didn’t know when he’d grown to love her voice regardless of how uninterested she may sound. It was part of her charm.

“I told you to stop calling me that, Penelope. Just Lucifer is fine.” He said. The woman raised a brow at him before turning back to her painting, dipping her brush into some brown before gently swiping the bristles over the canvas.

Lucifer watched in silence as she worked, captivated by the way she layered each brushstroke with careful precision. God, she was stunning. The large overhead light casted almost an ethereal aura around her, catching the dust particles that sparkled as they floated along. She looked so peaceful like this. 

His gaze traveled from her face to her fingers, pale skin turning dark at her fingertips where she held her brush with care as she swirled it in a pool of deep blue on her palette. Not only was she captivating, but she was a damned good artist that clearly took pride in her craft, pouring nothing but love into each piece. Several of her works graced the halls and spaces of the hotel, like the portrait of Sir Pentious that hung in the foyer. Many of the guests even had their own Penelope-original in their rooms, alongside their own art that was crafted during their stays. He was only slightly disheartened that he didn’t have one of his own. Maybe he should ask. Would it be weird to ask? None of the others had to ask. No, it would definitely be weird to ask. Oh- crap she was looking at him.

He gave her a half-smile as her brows furrowed. He could swear a hint of distrust flash in her amber eyes as she spoke. “What?”

“What?” He repeated.

Penelope rolled her eyes. “You’ve been staring at me.”

“Oh, I am? I was uh… I-” 

His words were coming out in a disjointed mess, crimson eyes shifting as his hands moved about as he struggled to find the right words. It wasn’t until he had to forcibly stop himself and take a deep breath that he got his thoughts in order. “I’m just trying to figure you out.” 

She blinked at him, her face staying perfectly blank as she turned her attention back to the canvas. “Well, don’t.”

“Oh c’mon, I know next to nothing about you!” Lucifer remarked, a small seed of hope planting in his chest that maybe he would finally get her to open up tonight.

“Good, let’s keep it that way.” Penelope brushed some of the blue onto a bit of gray, gently dabbing the brush so as to not mix the colors too much.

“No no no, not ‘good’. It’s not good.” He let out a small laugh though anything about the situation was humorous. “You make a big deal about using art as a way of expressing emotions and feelings yet you keep yourself so closed off. Oh, don’t look at me that way. Of course I noticed, and I’m sure everyone else has too.”

Her focus was on him as he spoke, eyes cold as if she didn’t appreciate him voicing his observations on her. A sigh left her upon realizing he wouldn’t be backing down from this and resigned herself to her fate. “I keep to myself because it keeps me safe.”

“Safe from what?” He questioned, glad that he was finally getting something out of her but eager to know anything she was willing to give him.

A stretch of silence passed between them until she gave him an answer. “From getting hurt…”

Confusion gripped his entire body as his forehead creased. “What are you talking about? No one here wants to hurt you.”

“I know.” She stated plainly before cursing under her breath. Setting down the brush she grabbed a towel, pressing it to a small area on the canvas in an effort to minimize the damage of her mistake. 

Lucifer was beginning to understand now. 

“Is that why you’re so reserved? Because you’re afraid of someone getting too close, afraid of someone getting to know you, earning your trust, only for them to hurt you in the end.”

Penelope’s body grew rigid as his words hung heavy in the air and he knew he hit the nail in the coffin. So that’s what this was all about, he thought to himself, feeling almost proud that he’d figured it out, but that feeling was slowly fading away as the silence stretched longer. He hoped he didn’t take it too far and mess things up. How could he fix this?

“You know, not everyone is like that.” He began while taking a step closer to her, bringing his hands behind his back to fiddle with his fingers. “There are good people out there, even in this infernal afterlife that seems to only bring out the worst inside everyone.” 

She hesitantly met his eyes as he paused, taking a second to swallow the nerves that came to him suddenly before getting to his point. “Like you.”

“Me?” Doubt somehow finding its way into her monotoned way of speaking as her nose crinkled in disbelief. 

Cute, he told himself but quickly squashed that thought down.

“Yeah!” He exclaimed. “You’re kind and have incredible talent! And you’re patient with everyone here, even if they’re getting on your last nerve with using the wrong type of brushes or wasting supplies. Sometimes I feel as though you’re the only sane one here. Well, besides me, of course.” He let out a small huff of amusement at his own joke before composing himself.

“And… And even if you don’t believe me, just know that you’re pretty special, especially in a place like this. A brilliant diamond amongst a sea of coal. Anyone would be lucky to have the chance to get to know you, the real you.” Lucifer expressed, his eyes shining with the same truthfulness he spoke with.

Penelope regarded him for a beat, golden pools encased in black flitting back and forth between his own eyes before shaking her head. “I’m not someone worth knowing.”

“I think you are…” He whispered.

Then her shoulders shook, a silent giggle wracking her frame as he felt his jaw go slack. In the several months of knowing her, he had never seen her laugh, granted it wasn’t a full one but still! He did that! He made her feel happy!

He wanted to do it again, and again, and again. Suddenly he wondered what it would feel like to be the reason for her happiness. He wanted to touch her, to hold her close, to tell her how much he cared for her before kissing her, to-. 

Oh…

Oh…

Her amusement quieted down and he could swear that the corners of her mouth were twitching. “Then you’re more of an idiot than I thought you were.” 

Lucifer felt his heart do a flip as he noticed the smile that graced her lips, so small that he almost missed it. 

He was in deep shit.

“Well!” He all but shouted, clearing his throat as he scratched the back of his neck. “I should uh- go! Gotta get back to the office before the paperwork decides to have babies, hah ha…”

He clapped his hands together as he turned to leave with awkward movements, almost falling on his ass in the process. As he reached the door he looked over his shoulder to see that her smile was gone but her eyes still gleamed with mirth.

“You have a good night, Penelope.” 

He was barely two steps away when he heard her call back to him in a gentle tone instead of her usual even voice. “You too, Lucifer.”

With a dumb grin that refused to go away, he trekked back to his room, ignoring the mountains of paper that surrounded his desk and making a beeline for his bed, flopping onto the plush comforter. He had no idea how long he stayed there, laying on his back and staring up at the patterned, red fabric that draped over the canopy frame as he replayed the interaction with Penelope over and over again in his mind. It wasn’t until morning broke over the horizon that he realized he’d spent all night thinking about her. 

It wasn’t until he heard the rest of the hotel come to life that he moved, getting up to seek out some coffee. As he left his room, he caught sight of a thin rectangle wrapped in brown parchment paper. He picked up the package that was clearly a painting and saw a note taped onto the front that read ‘Even a diamond needs reminding that they’re someone worth knowing. - P’. 

Excitement coursed through him as Lucifer went back into his room and carefully ripped through the wrapping. It was a simple painting that couldn’t be bigger than two by three feet, but he was more drawn to the flower that was depicted on the canvas. A pair of hands delicately held a singular white orchid, the dark colors of the background and the skin making the brightness of the flower all the more radiant. 

He blinked in amazement at the painting, surprised that she was able to make something so pretty so quickly, though he could vaguely remember her going on about how some paints dry faster than others. With a large grin he scanned the walls, deciding that right next to his desk would be a perfect place to hand the art since he would be able to turn and see it often.

Heat creeped onto his face as he thought this, bringing a hand to cover his face as he groaned. 

These feelings… They were going to be a problem, weren’t they?

[ineedibuprofen]

1, 2, 11, 16, 19, 20, 49 it’s kinda a lot so u don’t have to do all of them if u don’t want <33

1. do u prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

one-shots bc i have commitment issues and not enough time on my hands 😭 i have so many mutli-chapter ideas that will never be written lbr. also like, idk i like exploring characters and such within a smaller time frame, it makes things more interesting imo.

2. do u plan each chapter ahead or write as u go?

oh def write as i go. which is probably why i dont do multi-chapter rip. the only time i've planned it out is with an unfinished work i'll never finish.

11. link ur three favorite fics right now.

okay! wasn't sure if this meant of mine or other people's so i did the latter (specifically in the pjo fandom). amicus certus in re incerta cernitur by aknosde, body gold by cruel highways, & unfinished pile by fuckin_rodent (specifically the chapter linked bc it's kind of like a one-shot collection.)

16. how many fics are u nurturing right now? share one of them?

okay so i have a whole bunch of plotbunnies/ideas/one or two paragraphs of fics, so ignoring all those and the fics i have unfinished and posted, i narrowed it down to all the individual docs i had (as opposed to the complete collection of random snippets i have) i have like 25. so yknow. somewhere between that and maybe 100.

19. what is ur most-used tag on ur ao3?

just looked thru them all it's either angst or hurt/comfort

20. have u noticed any patterns in ur fics? words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc.?

i feel like commas and em dashes are like my besties fr. and parentheses, depending on the fic. common settings are kinda obv since i write for the same fandom. i feel like i kinda take one sentence and then write a paragraph following that isn't really connected but also kind of is? tbh it's usually a trauma dump lmao. i also use actually and really excessively, my grammar hates me for it.

49. do u ever get rude reviews and how do u deal with them?

i don't! the closest thing i've ever gotten close to one is a comment w a lot of helpful constructive criticism (im actually writing a second chapter for the fic they gave it to me on to hopefully resolve some of it).

[frankiehagg]

writing journal: i'm restarting my manuscript from scratch, again

i just finished the fifth week of my second go at grad school. i am studying to become a translator! it is so great and uses my skills as a researcher, writer, and editor SO well, in ways i hadn't predicted. it has also, until this week, DECIMATED my capacity for non-school reading and writing. it's been so nice to pick up a non-assigned book, of fiction, about people who aren't real. missed this.

as my skills develop away from the crisis mode of learning a new skill, lean into my existing editorial skills, and leave me more free time, i find myself having time to fall into The Bad Mood, which happens when i'm not being sufficiently creative. so tonight is my rip roaring friday night of... starting the seventh draft of my six-years-in-the-making book manuscript, from scratch, again.

some FAQ about my intense journey with this manuscript:

Q: WHAT KEEPS GOING WRONG WITH THIS BOOK?

A: fundamentally, nothing. the story was too character-heavy in its first incarnation and dealt with themes that have been progressively less interesting to me. more accurate to say that my skills develop at a pace faster than the manuscript does. i don't mean this as a flex; i've averaged ~7k a month on this manuscript for years & other projects have naturally developed my skills along the way

Q: SEVERAL OF YOUR LAST DRAFTS HAVE ONLY BEEN 5-10k BEFORE YOU SCRAPPED THEM. WHY? ARE YOU *SURE* NOTHING'S WRONG WITH THIS BOOK?

A: i uh... ok, everything's wrong with this book. the themes are wrong. the beloved characters i have retained along the way no longer fit the story—at least one of them, the main character as i imagined her, needs to join the 350k pile of killed darlings, and the others need to undergo serious relevance editing. the logic of the setting is quite thin. my style is also "broke" on the scale of broke to bespoke; my skills are better now, so now every time i write this piece the voice is unbearably weak and uncompelling. fixing voice has been the main impetus for these endless restarts, and i haven't found one that both sounds good and works with the setting.

most egregiously: as the themes and setting are developed, the plot breaks and breaks and breaks.

i've been aware of these issues for a while and i hoped writing through them would fix my problems. not so. now that i've had a nice monthlong break from writing (at least, anything that wasn't translated from the original french), i opened my document and... didn't like what i saw. i opened my wiki and didn't like what i saw. i opened my file of short story ideas and—saw a theme. a theme that works very well with the setting i've been trying to develop, overhauls everything, and gives me a fresh lens from which to spawn new characters or refresh old ones with new purposes.

the first thing i am doing is scrapping everything. all meta material—gone. new scrivener file. new wiki file (i use obsidian for wikis, which i wrote at more length about here). i'll keep the old stuff for reference, but this is a new world for a new story. i am entering only with a vague understanding that this is a science fantasy story, both hero's journey and tragedy, and... isn't NOT about the john searle–jacques derrida debate.

it'll be good, i swear!

the second thing i am doing, for the first time in my life, is attempting to write a COMPLETE, COMPREHENSIVE outline—i am normally a cheerful planner-pantser combo—before i write a single word of prose. i am hoping this will help me identify areas of weakness before i invest a ton of words only to meet a dead end. since my time is at more of a premium than it used to be, i'll be able to mull things over longer-term and hopefully come to the file on weekends with developed ideas.

the third (and final?) thing i'm doing is to identify elements of style that i particularly vibe with in *reading* and make a point to run 20-minute style drills when i can carve out a spare moment, and keep them in a separate file for reference when it comes time to actually put down prose. i'm hoping this will help me hit the ground running with a style that motivates me to keep writing it, and prevent more style-related dead ends as well.

there are a lot of different ways to outline. beat sheets have helped me in the past, including save the cat and romancing the beat. increasingly i am moving away from beat sheets as structural crutches, but having a visual guide for the outline stage is still useful to me.

there's the kind of intensely complicated outlining tool like MOTT, but every time even i, a detail-loving methodical research type, open this spreadsheet, get scared, and close out again. instead i'm going to try a combination of the snowflake model and the ring structure as i try to feel my way toward a setting-relevant plot: my snowflake is going to have five act-sized points to start, and from there i will develop smaller and smaller details until i have a narrative outline that is also symmetrical for that "the hero comes home but they can never come home again because their home is NOTHING LIKE THEY THOUGHT IT WAS" kind of journey i'm going for.

i do NOT know if this is a good idea, it might NOT work, i might wind up with a rambling scrivener outline that is basically just a summary of the plot the way i have tried and burned out of in the past. but it'll be fun! let's try new things! failure is liberating in that failing again doesn't feel that bad! that's true, right? that's definitely true.

if you don't hear from me again i've gotten lost in the outline mines, but know i died as i lived: upset that my manuscript still isn't working.

(first posted in a slightly simplified format on mastodon).

[gertrudepetronella-blog]

Meet the author I guess?

Thanks to @severusobserver for tagging me, I'm not going to continue the thread, because frankly these things confuse me and I usually forget what everyone has said, but it was cool to see some stuff you're into, so here's a window into my brain too:

Three ships:

Severella/ Crowprince

This is Severus x my oc Petronella Blishwick. Of course it has to be my top one, because I love her. I generally don't like other people's snapexocs and often find the ofc's to be a bit... lame (sorry no hate just my personal taste). Petra is a self proclaimed weirdo, a bit grumpy like Snape himself, loves her punk and metal music, has elemental powers that sometimes get out of hand, and is neurodivergent. Their relationship is so full of trust and understanding of each other's quirks. It's the relationship I wish I could have irl basically. Head over to @princeandcrow for more.

Snupin/ Wolfprince

I love love love this ship. If it weren't for the above they would be my otp. I have three (I think) published fics for my boys now, with a couple more I'm working on. It's enemies to lovers, it's unrequited pining, it's angst and fear of rejection, it's opposites attract finding they actually have a lot in common, and so much more. And I cannot deny that the smut is 🥵😈💀🖤

Snack/ Starprince

I have not fully got into this yet, partly because I just don't have space if that makes sense? I feel like it's a more extreme version of Snupin in a way. The angst is heightened, the enemies to lovers, hate sex, potential for hurt etc. But in so many ways Severus and Sirius are like a mirror or two sides of the same coin. They were both abused, they both take their issues out on others, they even have similar looks (sometimes in fanart it's guessing game of is this snape or sirius?!) I have read a few fics which I loved and have two of my own in the works, but I don't know when they'll come to fruition.

First Ship:

Severitus. Not technically a ship I guess, but I'm following your lead with the platonic ships. This was what got me into fanfics. I don't know if it was what the author intended, but I think Snape and Harry have such father/son vibes in canon. Snape's like a very traditional strict parent in a lot of ways (not saying it's good or healthy but?). I like reading angsty Severitus where Snape is very prickly, but when it comes to writing I always end up making him kinda soft.

Last song:

Lost Myself by Longpigs, because I used it in the fic I just published! It also resonates with me a lot and my feelings towards relationships. But generally at the moment it's Slipknot and Tool on repeat. Particularly Disasterpieces which literally saved my mental health from a difficult situation recently.

Last Movie:

Suicide Squad with my daughter. She simps over the Joker, but hates Snape. Idk 🤷🏻‍♀️. I love Harley Quinn and Katana though. Can't remember the last film I watched for myself, but I got 5 Centimetres Per Second for my bday, so hopefully watch that soon.

Currently Reading:

Working my way through the back catalogue of snupin on Ao3. Part way through a history book about the lost library of Matthias Corvinus (still). Top of my pile to read next is Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki by Haruki Murakami.

Currently Watching:

About half way through Midnight Mass and loving it big time. Only problem is I'm usually so tired at the end of the evening, or if not trying to write, and I need to be awake and focused because it's so good. Totally simping on the Sheriff.

Currently Drinking:

Just finished my morning coffee. Lots of herbal tea because it is very cold. Opened a bottle of Voignier last night which is 😋

Currently Craving:

Time alone. If I could just pause the rest of the world for a few weeks/months and spend all day every day writing, that'd be grand. Oh, did you mean food? I love food but as I pretty much always have to cook for myself it gets tiring and is such a chore. Maybe a meal out. Without any other people. But also actual sex with a real life person. Too much information? 😅

[theworldofananxiousteen]

The explanation I owe myself

It's okay to not succeed, and it's okay to not deliver the way you want to. The important part is living, meaning breathing, eating, sleeping. The rest will come when the time is right. (I hope.)

Alright, alright, my friends, gather around and let me tell you a story. It all started when I was a young, young girl (ca 2 months ago) when I decided to become the productive lady I'd always wanted to be by joining a challenge on the app I discovered that very same day (spoiler alert; it was this app and the #100daysofproductivitychallenge).

It worked for a few days, hell, I did more in those few days than I had for the past month and a half (estimates, but very likely). You see, before then, I had been in a flunk. Productive wise, school wise, life wise. Then, suddenly, this thing came before me like a saviour out of thin air, and I thought my crisis was solved - because, obviously, I would be able to stick to this challenge, in complete contrast to every other similar thing I've tried to put my mind to. For a few days, it did. Specifically, five days (I believe, I don't want to check). Then came the first break, I missed a few days - listed things I'd done as productive tasks even though I, in many cases, didn't believe they were. You see, I am a procrastinator. I think of things I need to do, they make me anxious, I do other things or nothing at all in response - an evil cycle I can't get out of. After those few days, I fell straight back into the loop, and I've done barely anything since.

Now, it's almost the end of my Christmas break, and I feel like I'm stuck, quickly suffocating in the piles of school work I need to do before I get back to school. Here's my current list:

Finish my second version of my extended essay first draft

Finish my first AND final draft of my TOK essay

Finish my final draft of my TOK report

Finish reading Juloratoriet for Swedish class

Finish my economics IA3 final draft

Finish my biology IA first draft (this was, literally, due october.)

Finish my Swedish HL essay second draft

Finish my mathematics IA final draft

Finish my CAS updates

Finish my history IA first draft

Prepare my Swedish oral

Learn the entire math course because it's finished and I know nothing - I've failed all but one math test the past two years :)

All this needs to be done on six days and I won't be starting tomorrow, I can feel it. I feel like I'm out of order. I'm not working. My brain. My body. My life. It's all out of order, and nothing is like I want it to be. I know what's needed to succeed, -studying-, but I can't bring myself to do it. Do you have any tips?

Anyway, I was thinking I may give the productivity challenge another try, continuing from where I left off, to see if it may help to give me something to work towards. So, here goes nothing.

Day 15/100

Today I did nothing of actual value, but I did get some things done;

Played basketball with some friends for a few hours that I can use for CAS (this is to be read as an achievement, because I left my house almost out of free will)

Finished reading It's kind of a funny story by Ned Vizzini (I rate it like a 4.5 out of 5 stars but it ended up being 5 out of 5 on goodreads since they don't do half's)

Started reading Dear Nobody by Billie Doherty - so far, no thoughts whatsoever about it

Watched a few episodes of RuPaul's Drag Race (speaking of which, my stepmum gifted my mum and I with tickets to RuPaul's drag race the world tour the upcoming October (!) and I'm very excited about it)

Alright, by for now. Hopefully, I'll be back tomorrow. Possibly, I'll be back in a month or two (maybe more).

PS. can you tell I'm currently using my tumblr as a thought dumpster simply because I know no one on here in real life? I'm telling you - it's the trick to success.

PSS. Here's a song (that I've forgotten completely) by a band I used to like (probably still do but I did forget of their existence), simply because it's called the new year, and new years eve was a few days ago. Happy holidays.

[mikecrewsteacup]

same anon as before: i am so glad jon becomes less of an idiot in ch4, at least by a little bit. the bar is in the floor, but still lmao. also, i'm just ,,,, thinking about how much gerry is Thinking. he's constantly running the calculations of "which of these risks will hurt me less", of "which of these transgressions will he forgive", on one meal a day and too little sleep. how the fuck has he not collapsed yet?? jon please sit him down and have a conversation with him about what's expected of him poor guy is so scared all the time he reminds me of my chickens (startles easily, prey-creature instincts, so g-ddamn strong, and such survivors)

also! i was more absorbed in talking about "holy shit poor gerry" last ask, but i am Very intrigued by whatever story is behind those tattoos. were they always used as a shield, as protection, or only once pain became his constant companion??

also, just,, the casual way he thinks about all the things that have been done to him. the way he didn't understand why jon recoiled from him in the kitchen. the way he can't even sit on the couch for more than a few seconds, but still thinks of it with such tired, worn-down flatness. it's not unspeakably horrible, to him, it's just part of life. (also, "training"? like a fucking dog?? that was horrible thanks)

- 🌻 (so i don't have to keep typing out "same anon as before" lol, i expect ill be back to yell some more as more thoughts occur to me)

hello again 🌻 anon (enjoy chapter 4, i've lost all control of my life and posting schedule now that nano is finished and i'm staring at my pile of edited work. oops) I will also say - with the enormous caveat that Jon is Very Bad At Feelings and sometimes even bungles it by correctly interpreting the other person, but incorrectly imagining what will help - that it's going to be important to remember in Howls that a big storytelling device is the fact that neither Gerry nor Jon are reliable narrators. As was (hopefully) showcased by the revelation from chapt 1-2 of "wow Jon's really bad at just reassuring Gerry" (which is true, but perhaps stretching the boundaries of belief considering the stakes) followed by chapt 3 establishing that Gerry is putting in 24/7 effort to NOT LOOK SCARED, because he thinks that is a dangerous thing to admit to. Which is something I'm having fun playing with! These two are both tangled up in their own expectations/wishes/assumptions and their POVs right now are dissonant to the point of only making a full picture when viewed side by side. Or that's my hope, at least lmao. Jon is also just very idiot :') he's channeling both his natural badness at relationships with some of his s2 paranoia/bitterness, because this Jon has already waded pretty deep into the spooks in this AU. that is a very good analogy of poor Gerry... our guy is living off of adrenaline and the human instinct to survive and something weird called 'hope' that he keeps assuming has died but 1000% has not and never really properly will, because this is Gerry "regularly saving strangers even though I know the Fears are insurmountable" Keay we're talking about... ooh so I actually am very happy to disclose at least parts of what's upcoming, when it's about everyone's powers and altered pasts and whatnot... all of Gerry's tattoos happened shortly before he went after Diego Molina in this AU, and he will actually describe in detail what his intentions were and why! I will say that while he got the Dark tattoos for a very specific purpose at first, his use of them HAS indeed changed over time ;) what he tries using them for will get more explicit around chapters 8-9, and he'll be infodumping to Jon later on as well. 'it's not unspeakably horrible, to him, it's just part of life' and here is the true tragedy of this guy in any and all universes... I adore him but he needs many hugs and a nap :') I love hearing your thoughts, thank you for the messages!

[future-circuit]

tagged by @evergardenwall

it's a long one. it's late so i let myself get carried away, particularly in one question (if you scroll you'll know what i mean).

i'd feel kind of bad tagging anyone in this post since i just ramble a lot. but as always (even though i know no one ever accepts these open invitations), if you want to do it and you haven't been tagged, tag me as having said i did. i'd like to see.

1. what book are you currently reading?

technically none? i've mentioned before but i was reading New Finnish Grammar by Diego Marani a while ago and it's been sitting in my 'to finish' pile for months now but since i do English and have to read for that it's just been sitting on the backburner.

i have since bought about eleven other books that i'm determined to read over the course of 2023 that i'm really excited for but i'll finish New Finnish Grammar hopefully before the new semester starts.

2. what do you usually wear?

a t-shirt, a jumper and jeans. i am but a simple lad.

i pretty much only own jeans and i've been trying for years to expand my wardrobe but alas...

3. how tall are you?

164cm. yeah yeah. i know. i'm small. yuck it up.

4. what’s your star sign? do you share a birthday with a celebrity or historical event?

sagittarius and i don't think so

5. do you go by your name or a nickname?

online i always go by Yellow, i probably recognise it as my name more than my actual name at this point.

6. did you grow up to become what you wanted to be as a child?

what i wanted to be as a child was a vet (then when i figured that wouldn't work like a year later, i decided i wanted to work in an animal shelter before 2015 hit). so no, considering i'm not on that career track.

outside of careers though also no. unfortunately, somewhere along the line i found out about genders and that kind of fucked shit up a bunch. don't think young me would be impressed that i actually wear trousers now

7. what’s something you’re good at vs something you’re bad at?

man i dunno what i'm good at. i'm pretty alright at the trombone. similarly i don't know what i'm bad enough at that it's notable. maths in general i guess.

8. if you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year?

i actually... it feels kind of narcissistic of me to say but i have a few favourite sections from my writing this year i like and yes i will share them. anyone who ends up reading this i know will skip this section but it's for my own sake.

the first two are from the chapter A Night Seems Termless Hell (Lang’s the Night Frae E’en to Morn) which is a set of loosely connected one-shots. this particular one i remember being really happy with after. i still kind of am (as you can probably tell). the third is from my portfolio piece - the second half of which was rushed and i don't particularly like but i love the first part still.

"Wandering the streets he no longer knew, towards a guiding light artificial in a way he’d once been familiar with, he felt out of place. Too big for the city he had grown up in. Too small for the world he’d once felt suffocated in. Tears pricked at his eyes but he’d already cried all of his tears back in Hisui and had none left for his own world."

___

"He didn’t know how to cook before he left for space. He’d always assumed [his mother would] be the one to teach him [...] she’d tell him on the rare occasions he was home before dinner and willing to help that it was alright for him to stay her little boy for a little while longer. He didn’t need to help and she’d let him know that that was alright. 

He could cook now, taught by a man that lived in a mountain that had taken him in when he hadn’t needed to. A man that Yuga knew his mother would love but would never get to meet."

___

"She’d skipped that step, of course, because she was one step ahead. She always was, because she read a lot of books and books were made of paper which came from trees. That meant that the wisdom of old trees had transferred into her as she read. She understood things that her parents and brother didn’t. Her mum read but was too busy to read as much as her. Her dad and brother weren’t big on reading. That was fine. Anya could be smart enough for all of them."

9. dogs or cats?

i don't really have a preference. i like them both for their own reasons.

10. what’s something you would like to create content for?

amatsuki!! i have an idea but i probably won't do anything other than think about it. it's written down though so i won't forget, so who knows.

11. what’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

amatsuki and yugioh, big shocker there i'm sure. also sea slugs and dictionaries.

12. what’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

i don't think i went into this year particularly expecting anything

13. what’s a hidden talent of yours?

if i have any talents they're hidden from me too

14. what’s something you wish to have at this moment?

money

[starshaped-dreamer]

better with you (j.jh)

pairing - jeong jaehyun x reader

genre - hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

warnings - depressive episode, anxiety & insecurity, allusions to past self-harm (scars, nothing graphic), disordered eating. please do not read if these topics are triggering to you. this in no way is intended to romanticize any of these topics but is written as comfort for myself and hopefully for others :) my messages and inbox are ALWAYS open to anyone who'd like to talk about anything at all

w/c - 744

a/n - I apologise for the amount of hurt/comfort I've written for NCT it's like therapy for me

There were few things that scared Jaehyun. He liked to think he was a pretty carefree guy, that didn't stress about the little things. There were few things that scared him, but seeing you like this had always made him fearful and worried.

You were on a short break from college, and Jaehyun was already regretting not asking for time off his work too. He was missing you; you saw each other often enough but found lately spending quality time together was becoming increasingly difficult.

He knew something was off the moment he'd opened the door. Your shared home was too quiet, too calm. His heart sped up as he opened the door to your bedroom.

Just as he feared, you laid there under a pile of blankets, the soft sound of your breathing being the only evidence of your presence. You'd warily told him of your history with depressive episodes and self-harm, and he'd often reassure you it was never something he'd leave you for. It hurt him more than anything to see you like this. Seeing someone who made every waking second of his life so much better struggling so much made him want to help you in whatever way he could.

He slowly made his way to your side, crouching beside the bed so he was at eye level with you. You tried to suppress the tears threatening to fall as you meet his concerned gaze, a comforting dimpled smile on his face. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, cradling your cheek in his hand. "Hey princess, I missed you today."

You sniffled, a tear falling down your cheek. "I'm sorry Jae. I-I couldn't get out of bed this morning."

He wiped the tear gently with his thumb. "Don't apologise Y/N, these things happen. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm scared I'm annoying people, Jae. I worry at school people are getting sick of me, that you're tired of me every time I'm like this. It's just too much for my mind to handle at times."

Jaehyun had always been good at keeping his composure but listening to your teary confession almost shattered it. "I will never ever get tired of you. You're my energy boost, you make my life so much better. It hurts me seeing you like this because you deserve so much more in life but you're allowed to feel like this. As long as you remember I'm always here for you and I'm never going anywhere unless you tell me to." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Now, you haven't eaten anything today, have you?" You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head. He frowned. "You should've called me so I could take care of you, love. I'll go get something small for you to eat now."

He knew you couldn't stomach much when you felt like this, so he grabbed a small snack. You appreciated his thoughtfulness as he slowly encouraged you to eat some before laying down in the bed beside you. You turned to face him as he began to draw small shapes on your waist. You felt calm for the first time all day, fully relaxed in Jaehyun's hold. His other hand held yours loosely, as he began to run his thumb over the thin raised lines that littered your wrist. They were already years old, but the idea of you ever doing that to yourself made his heart break. He brought your hand up to kiss the inside of your palm. "Have you-" he swallowed, unable to finish his question.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. "There were a couple times I've wanted to though," you quietly admit, picking at a loose thread on your pillow.

Jaehyun's jaw clenched at your words, and he was silent for a moment as if in thought. His hand left your waist and you turned to look at him again. "I'll be two seconds, I promise." You nodded and he left the room.

He returned again, with a Sharpie in his hand. You looked at him questioningly. "What's this for."

He smiled at you, before placing his hand into yours. "For you. Draw until your heart's content," he said, gesturing to his arm.

And as you lay there, mindlessly drawing random shapes on his skin your troubles were forgotten, and you knew your problems were a little easier to manage when he was by your side.

a/n - i genuinely don't know if this is any good but i hope it brought u some comfort have an amazing day

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

So a scenario (please please please feel free to ignore it if it's not your liking, no pressure on you, I really really appreciate your hardwork and I love your writing thank you so much for all of this amazing fanfics you keep bringing) where f! Mc urges Lucifer to take break from his relentless overworking but Luci refuses and says something harsh which he didn't mean, Mc get's extreamly upset and leaves the house to get fresh air but she got kidnapped which Luci didn't realise till 2-3 days because he put spells on his office door to keep away his brothers and MC's whinning but when he comes out he sees whole house on rampage Because mc was missing and they can't sense anything with pact Because it was fading and Everyone is extremely angry at Luci, Luci realises his mistake and finds his Mc almost half dead where before falling into coma Mc makes Luci realise how much they (his brothers & Mc) all need him to be physically with all of them and Mc ends up in Coma, end it with fluff (wake mc up) please I beg you 😖 I know you love angst but I don't think I can take more angst I cried whole night yesterday after reading your "A question of time", love you and please take care of yourself ~ 💜

House of Stone (Lucifer x GN!MC)

There you were, skipping into his office as you always did, the softest smile gracing your lips as you reached his desk, leaning over it to look at him, but he didn’t look at you. There was no time to play your games, there was no time for anything, not when Lord Diavolo had his desk constantly stacked with paperwork that needed to be completed. He didn’t mind doing it, not before you came along, but now there was the constant pressure of keeping you occupied and satisfied while also trying to complete the never ending work pile. His pride never allowed him to put you at the top of his list of priorities because as much as he cares about you, he needed his Lord's respect, and he owed it to him as well. “Lucifer, you should take a break. You’re working too much, and way too hard. We’re all worried about you.” Your voice broke through his thoughts and his head whipped up to look at you finally. His eyes narrowed, and he found it almost laughable that you’d try to have a say in how much or how little he worked. He scoffed at you, flicking his wrist to shoo you out of his office. “I don’t need your opinion, or your worry, Y/N. If you’d stay out of my office and let me concentrate, maybe I could actually get something done. You think you can do that?” 

For once you didn’t put up an argument, you actually backed away from his desk and left his office quietly. He knew that what he had said was out of line, but as always, his pride kept him from going after you to apologize, well, it kept him from apologizing at all. You meant well, but he also had to finish his work, and it’s not like what he said wasn’t entirely true. If everyone would just leave him be for a little longer he could finish what he had to get done and maybe he could actually get some rest, which is what everyone was apparently worried about. The door was quickly put under a spell, no one would come in and no one would get out, and by no one, it meant him. He wouldn’t allow himself to leave until every single sheet of paper on his desk was read and signed off, no matter how time consuming or exhausting it was, he would get it done. Along with what was basically a locking spell, he also soundproofed the room, the only noises he could hear was his own breathing and the sound of pen against paper as he scribbled his name at the bottom of each paper. What he hadn’t heard was the sound of the front door slamming shut and all his brothers begging and pleading for you not to leave, and then the sound of their fists pounding against the door to his office as they tried to tell him that you had left. 

How much time had passed since he had snapped at you, since that spell had been placed on the door? He’s not sure, and if it wasn’t for the coffee pot that he had set up in his office, he would have figured out sooner, but the fact that he was able to survive somehow on solely coffee and stale bread while he was working made it quite easy to lose track of the days and how many had passed by. The work on his desk was finally done though, and he could finally leave his office, and he was hoping that the home that he had left to the care of you and his brothers was still standing outside of his office. Long legs and arms stretched out in front of him as he finally pushed his chair away from the desk, gathering up all the papers and preparing them to be taken to Lord Diavolo. “Then I’ll see how Y/N is doing…” He told himself, because deep down, he knew that he had been too harsh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you or his brothers to worry about him, it felt nice to have people actually care about him for once. His brothers usually cared about themselves, well, most of them did, and you, well… you always cared about him, although he didn’t know why. 

As he took the spell off the door, that’s when he first heard it. The commotion of his brothers outside of his office, although they weren’t right outside the door, they were speaking loud enough for him to tell they weren’t all in their own separate rooms, which was strange. His first thought was that someone had unintentionally burned the kitchen down, or maybe they had made a hole in the wall while fake wrestling, and he was entirely prepared to brush it off until he got an adequate amount of sleep, but then he opened the door and saw all of his brothers rushing around the halls, their phones in their hands as they fervently typed out messages, others had their phones up to their ears, growling loudly when they clearly didn’t get an answer. “What is going on?” Every head in the room turned to look at him, all of their eyes were shooting daggers in his directions, and for once, he was the one who didn’t have a clue of what was happening or why everyone seemed so irritated. 

“Y/N is gone!” “I don’t know what happened!” “-Just walked out the door, looked like they were crying!” “-Not answering their phone!” “I don’t feel it anymore…” “-Like the connection is fading.” All of his brothers were speaking over each other, but all of their words were directed at him. You had walked out, you had left the house, and he felt this strange sense, a pang of guilt mixed with worry. He was worried about you, as were all of his brothers as well. It looked like none of them had gotten a wink of sleep, not even Belphegor who looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open just to glare at him. “Will you all be quiet!? Mammon… tell me what’s going on!” All of the tiredness he had felt before had quickly vanished as soon as he heard that you weren’t there, and now the only thing that he wanted to do was make sure you were okay, to get you back home safe. Mammon would know what was going on better than any of his brothers because other than himself, Mammon was the one who kept a close eye on you, he was the one who made sure you stayed out of trouble. 

“After leavin’ yer office… Y/N just walked straight out the door. We tried callin’ for them, but they weren’t listenin’. We tried callin their phone too, and textin’, but they ain’t pickin’ up. Now… we can’t feel ‘em anymore… like the pact is fadin’ or something.” It was like everybody in the room froze, because that “or something” wasn’t good, the pact fading wasn’t good. Although he himself hadn’t made a pact with you, he knew that his brothers weren’t lying, because he didn’t need a pact with you to feel a connection, and now that he was out of his spellbound office, he could feel that something was fading, he just didn’t know for sure what it was until his brothers verified it for him.

How long had he actually been locked up in his office? How had he allowed something like this to happen? He knew this was his fault entirely. If he would have just gotten up, satisfied you just enough to make you feel better, pretend that he was getting some sleep… anything but scolding you for caring… this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, his pride won’t ever allow him to admit that he was in the wrong. This was somehow his brother's faults for not stopping you, for not going after you. Why hadn’t they tried to stop you, why didn’t they follow you? They knew well enough that it wasn’t safe for you outside of the house, that you shouldn’t be roaming around the streets of the Devildom by yourself, but they let you go. Maybe this was more of his brother's faults than he thought, but he didn’t have time to argue with them. 

“We have to find them. Mammon, Asmo, and Levi, you take the upper side of town, Beel, Belphie and Satan, you take the lower side, I’ll stay in the middle and look around. If any of you find them, you call me immediately and tell me exactly where you are. Now go.” He’s hoping that you hadn’t gone far, that nothing terribly bad has happened to you, although their words of the connection with you fading has him beyond worried, and he’s almost terrified of what he or his brothers will find if they do find you. There’s only one reason why pacts would fade, and that’s a reason that he doesn’t want to dwell on too long. If he starts believing that you’re dead already, he’ll give up, his brothers will give up, and that’s something they can’t risk. As long as there’s some type of feeling… no matter how faint, it means that you’re still alive. You’re somewhere, and they’ll find you, and hopefully it won’t be too late. 

The groups dispersed and Lucifer went out on his own, searching everywhere and anywhere for you. Places he never would have stepped foot in, he was right there. He was on edge, and every second that passed just set him further into a panic. “Where…?” Where could you possibly be? None of the brothers had texted him, so they clearly hadn’t found you either, and he was starting to feel hopeless, like he would never find you, and if he or they ever did, you surely wouldn’t be breathing. His brain was fogged with worry, and he couldn’t even begin to think of where you could have ended up, or what could have happened to you. At this point, he was walking through the streets in a daze, he wasn’t even watching where he was going, and that’s when he ended up in a back alley that was almost too dark to navigate. It led to a dead end though, and just as he was about to turn around and walk back out onto the street something caught his eye. A single shoe sticking out from behind a pile of rubbish, and he felt the bile rise in his throat as his blood began to boil. He knew without a doubt that it was you, he knew those shoes, and he knew they were yours, and he immediately ran over, pulling your body up off the ground. “Y/N…” 

He could barely hold himself up on his own two feet anymore, just the sight of you like that had made him weak, and he was seeing red. If he hadn’t known any better, upon first look he would have thought that you were dead, but your heart was still beating, although feably. “Just… hold on a little longer… Okay?” Did you even hear him? Your entire body was limp, and even though he knew there was still some life in you, it was fading fast, and you already appeared lifeless, and you weren’t responding to him at all. He had hoped for the best, but no amount of preparing could have gotten him ready for this. 

There was no time to rush to the castle, and until he knew just who exactly had done this to you, he didn’t trust anyone in the Devildom except Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and his brothers. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he zapped you and himself to the castle, standing in the entryway, and he didn’t even know what to do, and he couldn’t find his voice to call out for the butler, so he was more than grateful when the demon walked around the corner and kind of froze when he saw him standing there with you. 

He wasn’t the type that asked for help, but in this instance, there was nothing else he could do, and even though he couldn’t voice the word, he was pleading to Barbatos with his eyes to do something, anything to fix you, to make you better. “Right.” Was all the butler said as he rushed over to grab you from his arms, but he wouldn’t allow it. Wherever Barbatos planned on taking you, he would go to. All he needed was for the butler to lead the way, and he would follow. The last thing he wanted was to be away from you again. 

Hours, days, weeks passed by, and he never left your bedside. You had been laid up in one of the guest bedrooms of the castle, it had been turned into a makeshift hospital room, the slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor had been the only sign to him and his brothers that you were still alive. Other than that, you were lifeless, a shell of the person that you used to be. “Lucifer, it’s alright if you go back home. Y/N will be fine here, and you’re just making this harder on yourself sitting there and staring at them.” Diavolo’s voice sounded from the doorway of the room, and for once, Lucifer disagreed with him. He deserved all the pain that came along with seeing you like this because it was his fault that you ended up like this in the first place. 

“I’m staying here until they wake up. It’s the least I can do.” You were always there for him and he had shooed you away, he had pushed you away, and this is how you ended up because of that. He’ll sit by your bed for another week, for another month, he doesn’t care how long it takes, because when you do wake up he wants to be the one you see first. “Lucifer, I understand… but your brothers need you back at the house. They’re just as upset about this as you are.” As if he didn’t already know that. They weren’t just upset about what happened to you, they were upset with him, as they should be, because he was the reason behind it. That wasn’t the thing that was keeping him from going back though, it was you. You were keeping him from leaving, because he refuses to go back to the house when you’re not there, because as much as his brothers and you need him, he needs you and his brothers just as much. 

“Lucifer…” He had fallen asleep, and it happened so scarcely that once his eyes shut, he found it difficult to open them again even if he did feel fully rested… but that voice… it wasn’t Diavolo’s, it wasn’t his brothers, it was weak… soft, almost a whisper. It was you. He sat up straight, his eyes shooting open to look at you, and a sigh of relief escaped him when he realized that it wasn’t just a dream, that he hadn’t heard your voice calling his name in his head. You were awake, and you were saying his name, and Father, it sounded so sweet. “Y/N… I’m…” How does he say he’s sorry? Would you even accept it if he did? Why would you? Why should you? He didn’t expect you to, but he still felt the need to say it. To push his pride aside for once and actually own up to his mistake, because this was the biggest mistake he had ever made. 

“I know you’re sorry…” You had said it for him, before him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed you to hear it from his own voice, because this past month as he sat beside your bed wondering if you’d ever wake up again, he realized that he doesn’t just need you, and he doesn’t just care about you. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean what I said… and I hope that you can forgive me.” Because he loves you, and he never wants to go through the fear of losing you again. He needs you more than you’ll ever need him, and although his pride would never allow him to say it out loud, it’s the truth, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you. 

[moon-lixie]

about a letter left to be found and a boy who disappeared into thin air.

word count: 2.046k

genre: slight angst

song: 말할 수 없는 비밀 (Secret Secret) - Stray Kids

I don't think any of you would be able to understand, not even if I sit down and speak all of my truths. Still, I think I owe an explanation.

With trembling hands he gathered his things, the notebooks filled with dreams spilling from the edges of every page, his favourite hoodies, the pair of bright red headphones he had since the beginning of high school.

From the open window a cold breeze came in and ruffled the slightly damp hair of the boy, paying special attention to the ends that were still clamped together due to the dampness.

He wasn't exactly in a hurry, but he still felt nervous and anxious, because even if it was almost impossible, at the back of his mind he was haunted by the idea of someone coming in and stopping him.

Moving quickly he reached down for the towel hanging around his shoulders and ruffled his hair a couple of times more until he felt satisfied.

First of all, I have no idea where I am going but know that I'm fine.

A loud sigh caressed his lips as it escaped, filling the room that he had always called his own, his little world nobody could disrupt because in between the forgotten comics and the piles of clothes sprawled here and there he had felt more at home than he has ever felt anywhere else.

Throwing the towel to the basket of dirty laundry at the end of the hallway, he finally finished everything he had to do, simply being left with staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the wild strands of hair that had been upset by the freshly washed hoodie hugging his torso.

He could barely muster a smile at his reflection, not because he was sad, but because it all felt surreal in a sense that left him wondering if it was still the middle of the night many years ago and the last years had been nothing but the hopeful dreams of his younger self.

Maybe it's a bit selfish of me to simply leave without a warning, but please understand that I want much more than this place could ever offer me.

He closed the front door of his house, locking it with the pair of keys his mother had given him once he turned twelve; they were still held together by the Pororo keychain he had bought one day after school with such an overwhelming excitement that made the memory pull at the corners of his lips.

It felt bizarre to walk away from the entrance of his home knowing that he was never really going to come back, that this was the last time.

Just like the very first time he had arrived there along with a moving truck packed with boxes and furniture, he felt breath leave his lungs at the sight of the white façade. It made him stop for a second and contemplate in utter silence.

Goosebumps coated the length of his arms once he turned around and kept moving forward at a steady pace, leaving his old bike behind as well.

Know that the decision to leave wasn't made in a haste, I've been thinking about it for long and now just seemed like the perfect time.

Mr. Kim lazily waved in his direction, gentle smile and downturned eyes with the familiar brown that reminded Jisung of his grandfather; maybe that's where he would go next, to visit his grandfather.

Without much thought he returned the sweet and familiar greeting, feeling a bit nostalgic when he thought back to all the summers that he had spent working with the man in his garden.

Back then a young Jisung had been happy to make a few bucks while getting to stay out all day in the yard playing with bugs and with the sun kissing the skin of his chubby cheeks and legs that weren't covered by his favourite pair of green shorts.

He couldn't help but wonder where had all that time run to because despite being the one who lived through it, he could barely make sense or when had he ended up where he was.

Time moved too fast and without a warning, it left everyone wondering.

It isn't easy to leave my whole life behind but it feels right, the mere idea makes me feel lighter because who knows who I'll get to be when I get to the end of my journey.

Perhaps I'll be braver, a little bit smarter, more mature, maybe even a couple of centimetres taller.

He could walk the streets with his eyes closed and still know where every bump and crack was in the sidewalk, he could still point where his old school was, where the closest convenience store stepped in his way and as usual tempted him to buy a snack even on those days were his pockets were empty and his tummy full.

From there he knew his way to everywhere else in town, he even knew how long it would take him to get to said places on foot or with his trusty bike.

It all felt too easy and familiar, too comfortable, and those things weren't bad at all but Jisung thought he had had enough of them. He craved discovering himself inside the walls of another place so foreign that every single one of his truths were only known by himself.

Was it silly? That he thought a change of scenery would make him a new person, one much more alike to who he truly was.

Sometimes talking to someone isn't enough, because you don't think they'll understand, you know they won't. That's why I never said anything about the deepest desires looming in my heart or the biggest fears that tied me down for as long as I can remember.

All the interrogations running leaps around his mind made him walk faster, filling him with the same dreadful excitement he felt every first day of school, one that mixed with nervousness and fear.

He wasn't sure if starting fresh would let him be someone whose fears didn't weigh upon his heart so harshly, he wasn't sure if he would get to be the person he had always wished he could be but he could only hope.

Hope had been what drove him this far and today he was giving it full control of where his feet moved to, control over how his next day would look like or where he would wake up the next day.

Never in his life had he felt more ready to wander around by himself.

But I guess, since I'm going, it's only fair that I try to sit down and talk to someone, hoping that they will understand even if my words are scarce and there will be nobody to talk back to at the end of this letter.

On the horizon the sun rushed to slumber, leaving a comforting lilac pooling around the clouds and making them stand out even more.

Night hovered over his shoulders making him breathe with much more ease because if there was something that portrayed hope and tomorrow with an uncanny resemblance and lack of effort, it was the night sky with its endless stars and its shining moon.

In his childhood days he had discovered that there was no better cure for uncertainty and a nostalgic heart than staring up at the night sky; there was something about it that made him feel like time stopped for an instance, that time wasn't quite as unforgiving while the veil of darkness covered everything.

If he could go anywhere he wanted —which he was already doing— he would wish to go to the sky, not the endless and uncertain space, but the idea of the sky that humans have in their ignorance, a canvas that goes no further than our eyes can see.

Ever since I can remember I've felt like there was a place for me somewhere out there, a place I always called home without knowing what it really was.

It wasn't like I didn't feel at home here, there was just a feeling in my chest that told me out there I could feel completely free in the way I've always craved.

For him it had always felt unfair, how everyone got to live and walk around without the things that kept him back. Of course when he grew older he understood that everyone had their own problems but sometimes that was easy to ignore when one's own darkness loomed around their heart.

He had spent many years wishing, praying to whoever was listening, that he could just be himself without the voices in his head and the uncertainties that made every single one of his steps be cautious.

Nobody seemed to have listened as years went by and things got harder, still, he never gave up and even though he could never really say that there was nothing else bothering him he could at least say that he had everything under control.

If time is unforgiving it also is healing, and for him it had healed many wounds that couldn't be seen.

Unknowingly I spent a lot of time wanting to go to that place, craving to find where it was.

Some years ago I understood that it perhaps wasn't a place but a version of myself that could bring such soothing feelings. That's where I'm going to, that's why I have no destination.

He wanted to believe that nothing had been planned, that his savings carefully stuffed at the bottom of his backpack had just been him being responsible about his money and having enough for the impulsiveness that one day had won over reason and had driven him to this adventure.

He wanted to pretend but it was stupid to do now, there was nobody around to judge him or question his motives, so there was no use in not being honest with himself.

Thinking back to all those evenings spent running around the small restaurant in which he had found a job, he could see that perhaps this plan had been many years in the making.

Unconsciously he had always been hoping for a moment like this, a moment of unadulterated freedom.

Hopefully I do get there, hopefully I get to be happy and everyone I left behind does too.

The journey to happiness, to authenticity, to being unapologetically himself, had taken him to the airport, another thing that wasn't as spontaneous as he had tried to make it seem.

Passport in hand and trembling self, the whiteness of the place and the various people walking back and forth made him realise that this was really going on, he was really leaving.

For the first time in his life overthinking had no place in his plans.

I wish to be who I am meant to and disappearing was perhaps the thing I had always been destined to do. A boy who disappeared into thin air, that's who I am, a boy with secrets that weigh down on my heart and that I'm unwilling to carry with me on this journey.

Approaching the desk he was met with a young woman, in her mid twenties or early thirties, sweet but practised smile covering her lips as she recited the words that he must've learned a long time ago when she first started working there.

"I want a ticket for the next flight available," Jisung said, offering a reassuring smile after the confused look the woman gave him.

He looked around as the sounds of typing filled his ears and before he had time to start regretting something the ticket had been placed on his palm and his savings were short by a considerable amount.

I'm afraid that wasn't much of an explanation but it was my truth.

Good luck and see you whenever we're meant to cross paths.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep were the clouds from above and the sky now completely dark like the many nights he had wondered where he belonged.

Now he had an answer, he belonged wherever he felt free and right then in that comfortable plane seat he felt the freest he had ever been.

[hobipaint]

Graffiti and Chalk- two

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, fluff

↳ word count: 9.6K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.

one | two

a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)

Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office. 

Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance. 

You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning. 

"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight. 

You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung." 

"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them. 

Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."

He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N." 

"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."

Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"

You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now." 

"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you." 

"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"

"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."

You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung." 

Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-" 

"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?" 

"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged. 

You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear. 

He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of. 

"It was me." 

Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?" 

"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold." 

"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?" 

"Just said that." 

He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that." 

"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same. 

Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"

"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."

"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting. 

"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"

"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"

"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie." 

Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could." 

You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling." 

"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me." 

You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him? 

You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.

Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to. 

You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?" 

"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it." 

"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either." 

"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again. 

He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."

"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."

Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."

"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?" 

"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."

"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me." 

You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored." 

An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on. 

"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him. 

Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."

"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer." 

"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings." 

You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then." 

You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?" 

"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me." 

You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints. 

Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?" 

"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail." 

"How much time?"

"Maybe a month or two?" 

"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then." 

How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.

"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office. 

Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?" 

"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up. 

"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you." 

"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung.  "The chief said he'll be here by eleven." 

Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement. 

"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?" 

"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?" 

"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes." 

Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated. 

The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue. 

You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men. 

Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung. 

Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.

You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright." 

"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?" 

You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes." 

Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused. 

"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago." 

"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get. 

"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it." 

"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.  

"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming. 

Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?" 

You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."

"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun." 

You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung." 

Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night." 

And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone. 

You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."

Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew. 

You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them. 

The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight." 

The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that." 

The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything. 

You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked. 

When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.

During your forensic chemistry class,  the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then. 

When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal. 

You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that. 

"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then. 

Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that? 

"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom. 

You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore. 

"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do." 

Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit." 

You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?" 

"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you. 

"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges. 

"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?" 

You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change. 

Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."

You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-" 

"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."

"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.

"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"

His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no." 

He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no." 

He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please." 

You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man. 

"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away. 

You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you. 

"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks. 

You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget. 

Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only. 

You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated. 

All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people. 

People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you. 

"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more. 

"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you." 

You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him. 

"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing. 

"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision. 

"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone. 

He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good. 

You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.

Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go." 

Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"

"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you. 

"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well." 

"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"

"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me." 

You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well. 

"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please." 

You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief. 

"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now." 

"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way. 

"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face. 

Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir." 

The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?" 

You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years." 

The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well." 

You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." 

The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out." 

The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.

You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside. 

Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be. 

"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now." 

Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly. 

The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief. 

"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen. 

"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window.  "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop. 

She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep." 

The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"

Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?" 

"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"

Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it." 

You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning. 

"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough. 

Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."

"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."

The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be. 

Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail." 

The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it." 

You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free? 

Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.

"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself." 

"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now." 

She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did." 

You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears. 

Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured. 

The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this." 

"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."

"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too." 

The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn. 

The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation. 

Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free. 

The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support. 

"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please." 

Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear. 

"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best." 

You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room. 

Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?" 

Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her. 

"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out." 

"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly. 

"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?" 

"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."

"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?" 

The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."

Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman. 

She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you." 

She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours. 

"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments. 

He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there. 

His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.

Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you. 

"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder. 

"For what?"

"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well." 

You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae." 

He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive. 

"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day. 

You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now." 

"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much." 

You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies. 

"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?" 

Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."

"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead. 

You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?" 

He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?" 

You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over." 

"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. 

"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead. 

You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought. 

a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞

taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki

masterlist

[alecxaheart]

Someone's Someone | Bang Chan Oneshot (1)

✎ Genre : CEO AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader

✎ Word Count : 3.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all just wanna be someone's someone that we can't live without. At this time, Chan was looking for his. And unexpectedly, he was already tied down to someone.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎. . . I actually just played my songs on shuffle then Monsta X's Someone's Someone played so.. yeah, I'm inspired. Also, this is my first post in tumblr btw. :)

✎ Parts : 1 , 2

The relaxing sounds of nature enveloped him as a whole. His shoulders less tense and eyes closed as he sat on the cooled sand, facing the burning star and calm waters ahead. Seagulls could be heard in the distance as they caught themselves a dinner to eat. The refreshing cool wind hit his body, slightly making him shiver for a second. Waves, created by the sea and wind, kisses the shore repeatedly. For once, he was far away from worries, stress, fears and regrets. Just him, contented with the company of nature.

As he fluttered his eyes open, he was met with a stunning view of the sun meeting the ocean. The ocean reflecting the sun's visuals as well as the sky above it. Even though the reflection was blurry, it's still pleasing to the eye. Just perfectly imperfect.

However in his opinion, it wasn't stunning as it seems. This secret escapade paradise of his doesn't quite appeal to him yet. A missing piece that could be anywhere on this wide world. That thought kind of bothers him every time.

Sighing, he figured that it was time to go back. He slipped onto his slippers and headed out of his escapade paradise with a head hung low. Hopping on an enormous boulder that happened to break the wired fence and fixated there, having easier access to and from the place than climbing over the fence.

With a last glance towards his escapade, he knew he'll be coming back and that next time will be the scenery he's been looking for, hopefully.

Frustrated with the task at hand, Chan ran his fingers through his blonde locks as he leaned back on his chair and head facing upwards toward the ceiling. Taking a brief break from a whole 6 hours straight of writing and staring at the monitor. Followed by him grabbing his coffee and taking a sip, eyes boring on the monitor. He was just half finished with his paperworks at the time of nightfall, which made him more in distress and felt crammed.

His eyes then wandered around his office, landing onto the view of the opposite building of his company in the end. Where he could see the workers of the Marketing Department bidding their goodbyes to one another, closing the lights and exiting the room. Oh, how much he too wanted to leave and rest right at this moment. Although his belief of 'getting things done before going into slumber' is preventing him to do so (even though he already got a lot of things done). With a sigh, he faced back in front of his monitor and papers, determined to get everything done before tomorrow starts.

" Sunbae-nim, aren't you coming with us? We're having dinner at the Chicken & Barbecue restaurant just a block away from here. " Seungmin asked, grabbing his suitcase below his desk. You leaned back on your chair while stretching your cramping arms and a yawn escaping your mouth.

" As much as I want to, Seungmin, I can't, " You started, rubbing your temples to ease your aching head. " Because our new boss literally gave me 5 thick documents to finish before tomorrow morning without any mercy. And that's just bullshit. I don't even think I'm halfway through it! " Seungmin replied with a chuckle to your short rant, an amused expression written on his soft face. You were having another small mental breakdown as you stared at your unfinished pile of work, feeling your soul escape your body.

" I think you're overreacting. "

" Well, what if I am?! "

Laughing, Seungmin leans his side on your cubicle, looking over at your messy desk filled with sticky notes, papers and pens. " I don't think it's that much. You're lucky that your boss isn't here to hear any of your complaints, " He muttered as he took a peek at one of your documents. You scoffed, not my fault that I'm not as good as you.

" Hear what? "

Frantically, you immediately hide yourself behind your cubicle and pretend that you were focusing on your work. On the other hand, Seungmin casually brushed his navy blue coat with his palms and lifted himself off from the cubicle. Making it all seem like nothing happened.

" Oh, it's nothing, Ms. Ka- " Seungmin paused as he met the owner of the voice who wasn't the person they were expecting to be there. " M-Mr. Bang?! " He stuttered, eyes widened at the blonde headed CEO. Seeing in the corner of your eyes, Seungmin bowed ninety degrees at him as a sign of respect. Even with his heated glare on you, you continued your work like no CEO even entered. Thanks to your cute height, for sure you wouldn't be spotted.

" What are you doing here? Working hours are done. "

Seungmin stood straight and scratched the back of his head. Curiosity slowly arose in you as seconds passed - since you've never met a CEO called by your colleague as ' Mr. Bang ' - although as much as possible, you didn't let go out of hand and kept your focus on the documents silently. The least thing you wanted to happen to you right now is get caught by one of the company's CEO. " I was about to head out, Mr. Bang, " Finding an excuse, he pulled up his sleeve to check the time on his wristwatch. " Uhm.. Yeah, I'm late for dinner. Sorry, Mr. Bang, I have to leave right now. Have an great night! "

With a last bow to the CEO, Seungmin dashed his way out of the building, leaving you alone with your work. The blonde head noticed how the room was still lit up despite it being unoccupied, which he thought. Heading to the switches, everything around you darkened. The only source of light you had was the monitor, and Chan caught it in the corner of his eye.

" Is someone still there? " His voice, catching a bit of foreign accent with it, echoed in the hushed area.

Baffled as he approached that light with a few slow strides, you freaked out mentally. Swiftly but silently, you left your chair and hid yourself underneath the desk next to yours. As he neared your cubicle, you held your breath, slowly starting to feel lightheaded. You don't know what are the consequences if you get caught after working hours since you're still kind of new - got hired just 5 months ago. Dumb you overthink random shit first before even going to the thing called 'common sense' and the rules you heard just goes in one ear then out on the other.

The moment Chan was about to reach your cubicle and take a glance to his right, the sound of marimba playing a soft tune echoed in the room. Stopping in his tracks, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and grabbed it, swiping to the right to answer the call. You let out a hushed yet shaky sigh of relief, your shoulders less tense than a while ago. In your mind played a chant, thanking whoever was your savior.

Chan narrowed his eyes at the back of your cubicle while his phone is still pressed against his ear, listening to the person on the other line's complaints. " I'm on my way. Don't do anything stupid, " Not too soon you hear heels clacking against the polished marble tiles, the noise fainting as he left the room.

It took you a good couple of seconds to get out of your hiding spot (since you had to catch your breath and calm your heart down from the thrill), slightly shaking your whole body first before heading back to your seat and continuing your pile of work. Mentally groaning at yourself.

Oh. My. Gosh. These. Eyebags.

Is the first thing you thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The cause of it appearing badly because you obviously lacked sleep. All due to the time allotted for slumber was consumed by finishing your 5 thick documents that will be passed this morning. You could've cared less if today wasn't a work day, which fortunately for you it was still work day and these damn documents aren't gonna pass themselves to your boss this instant.

Fumbling around in your bag, you found your makeup kit and started fixing yourself. A little bit of touch ups here and there, just a little to look like it's still more natural than a lot to look like a plastic doll barbie.

Once satisfied, you smiled sweetly at yourself just to start your day nicely and exit your household. While walking on your way to the train station, incoherent mumbling leaves your mouth. A train of thoughts clouding you about your worries if you've left something important behind. In all honesty despite of your current good looks, you look stupid or crazy for talking to yourself in public. Well, at least you aren't as worse as someone yelling nonsense.

" I have all my files, identification card, phone, wallet, pocket knife 'cause anything could happen, keys- " you paused as soon as you misplaced your shoes at the edge of the last stair, falling forward. Luckily for you, you caught yourself and regained your balance. Wide eyed, you saw a kid, a giddy smile plastered on his face as he saw your commotion with a lollipop in hand. You felt embarrassed but laughed it off anyway, a light tint of pink decorating your cheeks.

You rushed towards the gates as soon as you realized the time with the card in between your fingers. Three beeps emitted from the machine when the gates opened after you placed the card on the scanner. With a few more strides, you caught up to your train ride as it was about to leave. You sighed in relief and sat down on a vacant bench, head automatically leaning back on the window. Your eyes boring at the ceiling while taking steady breaths after your short marathon on the way.

On the other hand, across you sat Chan. His right leg crossed over the other while scrolling through his phone. He wore a button up shirt, the first two still unbuttoned revealing more of his chest. His navy blue tie hung loose around his neck while his coat is still folded around his arm. His slacks were the same color as his tie and coat and wore black pointed shoes to finish the statement of his overall clothing. Blonde hair locks were scattered around his face but still managed to look stunning and attractive.

You haven't noticed his presence, so did he to you, and the fact that you both don't know each others' appearance even though you go to the same company just adds to the reason for you two's ignorance to one another's existence.

You got yourself to go back to slumber comfortably in your current position although you know when you wake up, you'll be greeted by your neck aching. Hopefully you don't miss your stop while gaining more sleep. The train swaying you lightly from time to time that you found quite relaxing, like a cradle rocking back and forth lightly to put a baby to sleep.

A child was running around the train with a joyful smile, giggling. He only stopped in his tracks when he reached in between you and Chan. His eyes glowed like there were stars decorated around his chocolate brown pupil when he eyed you two. Looking around, he spotted a roll of red thread underneath your bench and grabbed it. He thought it was just right.

With you being the closest, he starts to tie the thread around your pinky finger. You were too tired to even feel his small cold fingers run around your fingers nor the string tighten around it. Once done, he smiled to himself, his dimples appearing on either side of his cheeks and eyes forming into small crescents.

He left your side and skipped over in front of Chan, who was now too deep in thought as he gazed outside the window and his phone tucked in his pocket. Holding the other end of the thread, he wrapped it around Chan's thumb. Chan's body shook in surprise as he felt cold fingers ghosting above his hand and averted his attention to the child. He saw him knotting the red string tightly, strange that he barely even feels the string tightened around his thumb. " What are you doing? " he questioned although the child only responded with a bright smile, followed by a giggle.

The child turned and ran away from him, more giggles leaving his lips. Chan stood up and tried to chase him. But stopped as soon as he saw the child in the distance, dissolving into little particles in thin air and completely vanished in his sight. In disbelief, he rubbed his eyes and looked for the child around his area. Thinking that he was out of his mind, he sighed in defeat. There's no way anyone could do that in reality. It's either I'm insane or living in a fantasy or a chosen one blessed to see ghosts. Maybe, all of the above.

Chan looked down on his thumb, following where the other end lead to. Then, he spotted your sleeping beauty state, the other end attached to your pinky finger. With the sun rising in the horizon, a ray of gold-like light shines through the window, casting a shadow on you. And he thought you looked mesmerizing like that, peaceful and lovely. At least he wasn't tied up with a bitch or a hag.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open as the sun shined upon you. Squinting at its brightness, you raised a hand above your eyes to see more, only finding a red string wrapped around your pinky finger. You examined it, wondering what prank is anyone even planning and why did it have to involve you out of all people. Before anything stupid could happen, you attempted to loose the knot, ignoring the curiosity for a while of where the other end was. Looping and tugging it, even tried to chomp on it with your teeth, but all attempts failed. Well, that's until you gave up, untying it was impossible, unbelievably there's a knot that couldn't be untied. Sounded like marriage when you think about it, but there's the annulment and divorce ruining the picture.

Tearing your gaze at the string, you caught a pair of bewitching dark brown eyes staring back at you. In that particular moment, everything just froze in place. Time has stopped just for the two of you, you thought.

You felt your heart melting, probably from the warmth emitting in your body or from the warmth his eyes give off as you saw little sparks decorating the pupil. Unfamiliar light feathers tickling the insides of your stomach is what you felt other than the heat and that thawing heart of yours. Your mind knew it well that you shouldn't feel this way towards someone who you just met but your body and heart reacted so differently. There's just something about him that made you feel so exposed and vulnerable in his eyes that you couldn't come up with a possible answer to your 'why's.

Both of you didn't notice how seconds turned into minutes, too lost into one another's orbs. That was until the train stopped, causing Chan to break the eye contact and lose his balance. Before his hands made contact on the metal floor, he took a step forward in order to regain his balance which he successfully did. A small chuckle left your lips, eyes turning into crescents as you saw the commotion. He narrowed his eyes at you as the train was back in motion.

Chan fixed his clothes first before asking, " Who are you? ". Grabbing the pole next to him to prevent him from falling again on the next stop.

" Shouldn't I be asking you that as well? " You replied with a gummy smile, which quickly faded when you remembered what's the problem.

" What is this on my finger and why is it connected to yours? What kind of trickery is anyone pulling? Why am I involved in this? " You kept firing questions at him while he stayed there unbothered. Unlike you who did some more attempts to remove the thread, silly you even tried aggressively shaking your hand in hopes of making it a little loose. But no prevail happened once again.

" Just get rid of it. I didn't want this too, you know. " Chan taps his foot impatiently as he eyed your useless attempts.

" I am trying! " You exaggerated. Deciding to bring out the best tool you have for the situation in hand, your hands fumbling in your bag. Once you felt the cool metal on your fingertips, you brought it out and flipped it open.

Chan's eyes widened at the sight of the pocket knife in your palms. " You carry that on a daily basis? Are you insane? "

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. " It's not insane when it's used for self-defense purposes. I'm too nice to be the murderer you're assuming, " You replied, head throbbing as things aren't going well with the charming blonde.

He responded just before the blade and thread were in contact, starting with a scoff. " Yeah sure, nice. Anyone can wear that façade anywhere. "

" You know what, " You started as you withdrew the pocket knife back and glared at him afterwards, pissed off. " You deal with this shit yourself, I'm done with my part and I could care less about this red thread anyway. You look like you don't need any of my help 'cause you look fancier than me and it seems like you're not taking any gratitude towards my kindness. Damn these crazy rich people. " You threw the tool towards his direction and looked away from him, arms crossed. Chan instinctively caught it without getting any cuts despite the fact it's closed, his eyes burning through your figure in fury.

" If I actually got wounded instead from your little stunt, I would've sued you this instant, " He growled, only to be ignored by you.

Irritated by your sudden change of attitude, Chan flipped it open and skillfully ran the blade through the string. Only for it to just fall through like the string never existed, ghost-like perhaps. " It's not cutting, what the hell, " Chan muttered under his breath as he tried a few more times again.

"It's just a string, how could a- " You spoke as you turned your head back to his direction, only to be cutted off as you witnessed the unusual. Mouth a little bit agape in disbelief. The thread didn't fall apart even while the blade was just sitting in between of it on air. Maybe that explains why you could barely even feel the thread wrapped securely around your finger. You could tell that this stunning blonde head was just as puzzled as you were.

" Sir, if you're having any problems that includes this woman, we can sort it out. Just withdraw the knife first please, " a man suddenly blurted out, his voice a little bit shaky. That's when you realized the commotion you both have caused, everyone around you two took steps back away. All had fear in their eyes.

" Wait, you don't see the thread we're trying to cut? " Chan questioned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. At that, he was more misunderstood.

" There's no thread..? " With that, it got the two of us surprised. Is the crazy one here them, who couldn't see this string, or us, who could?

Chan tried to explain our situation thoroughly but when he was about to speak up, out of the blue, a voice spoke in the speakers. " Please mind the gap, " You immediately grabbed his arm, carried his belongings and dragged him out of the train. Leaving its passengers confused as they eyed us. They might be thinking that you two are idiots.

The doors just shut a second later when you two got out. You felt a bit suffocated for an unknown reason, your hand reaching for your chest where you could feel your heart beating. Panting, you shoved Chan's belongings into his chest. " Are you alright? " He asked as he tried to place a hand on your back, the least thing he could do to comfort you.

But his hand only stopped in mid-air when you took your last deep breath, replying. " Let's just part ways here, " Saying those words felt a bit disheartening at some point, yet you chose to disregard it.

You walked forwards, while Chan stayed in his position, wearing his coat and fixing his tie. Although, something stopped you. As in you couldn't go forwards as much as you force to. Well when you did force yourself, it only tugged Chan towards you. Turning around, he was already eyeing you. " What was that for?! "

Glaring at the thread, you thought out loud, " Is this string telling me, it can only stretch itself approximately at 7 meters?! "

Continue

[constantlyunlightening]

Work, work, work

Day 15: Cockwarming

Warnings/Other Kinks: Anxiety/Depression implications and mentions (Doppo is just like thattt), Doppo kinda snaps at the end, office sex/sex at work, dubcon (there's not explicit consent in this so I'm going to put it just in case but the reader and doppo are in a relationship and I meant for this situation to be consensual, but Doppo's anxiety in this situation made it seem kind of sus)

I have nothing but Hypmic on the brain. I love feral screaming Doppo. Would highly recommend listening to him belly scream here. :D I really do want the best for this boy tho. I love him so muchhhh.

Disclaimer: 18+ years and older to read. All characters in this work are 20 years or older. This is a fictional depiction of a relationship and is not meant to be mimicked in real life. I do not condone cockwaming your partner in their place of work irl.

It was always work, work, work with him. Well, work and rapping but Doppo hardly ever talked about his Matenro. It was always about his balding asshole of a boss, his terrible coworkers and work, work, work.

You knew he was a workaholic. You knew that when you fell in love with the guy. But geez. Time for him to learn that self care was a priority.

You had stormed to his office after having spent two hours - past the time he was supposed to get off - waiting for him at home. This overtime was bullshit. The man worked himself to the bone. And he didn't know how to say no. You worried about him! It was the reason why you marched right over to the cubicle. The place was deserted, all except for poor Doppo, sitting at his desk pinching the bridge of his nose and surrounded by paperwork.

"What the hell is all this?" You asked as you came up behind him and you almost felt bad watching as the man let out a shout, jumping out of his seat and scrambling like a frightened rabbit. A few of the papers he had on his desk got caught up in his whirlwind and dusted around the room - a fact you assumed Doppo would be disgruntled about later, but he looked far too nervous right now as he took labored breaths and let wide eyes take in your form.

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

".... You're being worked too hard if the sound of your girlfriend's voice is enough to panic you," you quipped back, ignoring his question for now as you bent over to try to help organize some of the scattered documents that had fallen to the floor. Let him have the time to bring his breathing back to normal. You were mainly pissed at his job for overworking him - not so much him. Didn't need to go give him a heart attack. "You're here late again. I was checking in on you." A pile of paperwork stacked against your chest, you moved over closer to him to set it down on the desk and took your time eyeing the assortment of work he had lying around. This couldn't all be his. Some of them must be pawning off their work, and Doppo just so happened to be the biggest doormat around. A sigh heaved from your lips, and you didn't miss the way Doppo shuddered. How could you? The man tensed up like he was being shot by lightening. "Looks like it was a good thing I did too. This work would have kept you here all night if someone didn't come to stop you."

"I'm sorry!" You weren't surprised but the volume of his apology made you jump and as he started to spew off more and more apologies, you quickly grabbed him by the tie and yanked him in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You weren't trying to invalidate his feelings by cutting him off, but there was no reason for him to be panicking like he was. And luckily, kisses from you always seemed to soothe him - at least as soothed as someone like Doppo could be.

"Baby," you purred gently, pulling your lips from his and watching the way his cheeks lit up with a dusting of pink. Always so stressed, this one. But the face he made after you kissed him made your heart flutter. Dumbfounded but he still managed to swoon in subtle ways - those aquamarine eyes zoomed in on you like you were treasure. The simple strokes you gave to his hair made him melt - the tension zapped out of his shoulders and he almost started to slump into you. "You don't have to say sorry. But it's time to go home now. No more work."

That cute daze in his expression only lasted a moment more before it was like all that anxious energy plowed right back into him. The word 'work' was enough to flip a switch with him. "That's not right! I have a whole ton of it!" His arm extended outward, waving at the stacks piled high. "I'm sorry but I have more work to do. I'll finish as soon as I can but - I gotta do this or my crazy boss will pile even more work on me! Or I'll lose my job or worse I-ll-"

"Doppo!" You cut him off and tried to calm him down. It worked to some extent but only enough to keep him from screaming or spiraling into one of his crazes. You didn't convince him to stop working though and eventually you had to settle for watching him drown himself in the work in front of him, trying to suppress your groans.

You loved the man. But really?

Playing the waiting game wasn't something you were interested in though. Which is why, after a bit of working, you somehow managed to not only weasel your way into his lap but you also got his cock out of his pants, stroking it just enough to get him riled up as you watched him try not to panic.

"You can't just do that-"

"I just did. Don't worry. The cameras can't see in here. It's fine," you coaxed, letting him stay nervous anyway as you pushed your panties to the side from underneath your skirt causing him to visibly gulp. But he wasn't pushing you off.

"I have to work," he declared, whispers on the verge of being shouts fell from his lips but cut off into a whimper as the head of his dick was suddenly being warmed up by the heat of your body as you slowly sank down onto him - taking him in inch by inch. 

It wasn't until you were fully seated to the hilt, listening to his breath hitch that you gave a tiny huff. "Then work." And your body stilled. No movement other than the flutter and clench of your walls against your hung lover, letting your eyes watch his flustered face. He clearly didn't know what to say and you watched as his gaze flickered around like a chicken with its head cut off - to your face, to his paperwork, to where your bodies were joined and then anywhere but you. Good. Get him riled up. He was panicking but you could feel him twitch inside of you, like he was anticipating for you to move - waiting for it. But you kept your hips locked in place as you leaned in and rested your head on his shoulder. "Work, Doppo. Just giving you some motivation for when you finally get done." Your voice was much to kindly for someone who just pulled somebody's dick out in the middle of a public office. But it managed to keep him from tipping over his brink just yet. Poor thing always got so worked up. Your physical actions may not be helping that necessarily, but your voice always seemed to soothe him over, even if it was only a little at a time. 

"H-how?" You listened to him practically squeak, shifting under you and instantly giving a whine at the slight push against your walls. How was he supposed to work when you were on him like this? How was he supposed to concentrate when you were constricting around him? When you were filling him with molten lava from the bottom up?

With feather light kisses, you trailed a line across his neck, trying to remain still on the cock that was stretching out your insides - forcing the urge to bounce on him like a pogo stick until you both lost even the capability to think of work. You would behave somewhat for now though. Doppo could get his work done. You could get some form of closeness in the meantime. Besides, maybe a good vise grip on him could speed up the process? Or make him say 'fuck it' altogether - hopefully, literally fuck it. "Just work, Doppo. Since it's so important. Ill wait," you cooed, almost as if you were being thoughtful. Too sweet for him to argue and you listened to him give a defeated groan of a sound before he tried to level out his breath and refocus. 

Oh, but that was easier said than done. Doppo had restarted on the paperwork, working around you as your warm body nuzzled into his chest. He usually felt like he was suffocating at work but right now, it felt like your body was trying to strangle the life out of him from somewhere other than the neck. How were you so tight? How come velvety walls were squeezing down on him over and over again without either of you even moving? You were starting to leak out around him, a sticky mess starting to spill out onto his lap slowly - torturous. Maybe you were actually trying to be sweet. Maybe you were actively trying to mess with him. But either way, it was kicking up a bad habit within him. He would reach for another stack, shifting in the chair and causing the tiniest of mewling to escape from your lips. It was a blissful sigh here, a hitched breath there, a tiny hum into his chest and it was going to break him. He was supposed to be focusing but at this rate, he was going to start making mistakes on his work.

You were causing him to silently work himself up. Each climb of his emotions resulted in a string of jitters, and in return had your body clenching even tighter on him. How could you even feel like that? He choked, tugging at his tie to try and gasp for air. You were messing with him. You had to be. You must be mad he wouldn't leave. This was his retribution. To be strangled by your wet cunt over and over without reprieve- without any motion for relief. Well, fuck that. He may love you. But he worked far to hard day in and day out. Pent up didn't even begin to describe it. If you were going to try to rile him up like that, then he would give you riled up because he couldn't take it. Not a second longer. Not with that familiar primal darkness beginning to flare inside him.

His body rocked and you instinctively lifted your head from his chest to peer up at him, the first actual movement he had made since you had sat on him. "Are you okay?"

"O-okay?" He was stuttering his words but unlike his panic from before, this time he sounded angry. It wasn't a tone he took entirely too often. But you knew Doppo. You knew if his buttons were pressed enough, he would snap. He was tea kettle, getting hotter- "how do you except me to be okay-" and hotter "- when your purposely trying to make me-" until he screamed "-loose my fucking mind!?"

You only had enough time to widen your eyes before he flew out of his chair, taking you with him and slamming you onto his desk. The noise he made was positively feral - teetering between a growl and a scream - and without a warning, he was wrecking you, bludgeoning into you with a speed you hadn't even been aware he was capable of. 

"D-D-Doppo!" You were trying to talk but the sudden thrusting was knocking out your capabilities to think. You had been stretched out and horny for a while now but at this pace you couldn't keep up. You were trying to grip at his shoulders for some type of stability. "H-hang on a sec-"

"Hang on?!" He sounded unhinged - a growl ringing in the back of his throat so different from his usual meek - if not panicked - composure. "I've been hanging on! I've been hanging on this whole time! You just had to be on me huh? When I'm at work!" Papers were tossing up into the air around you and you could hear the clatter of the cubicle as he knocked you into the desk over and over. Oh, you couldn't even keep your eyes opening with the way your senses seemed to overload. "All this work - all these damn excuses to pile it onto me - and then you still come in here and give me more work. Too needy? Need my to pound you senseless before I can finish my work? Then that's what I'll do. I'll take you over and over and over again until you're out for days!" He declared, his hands clamping down on your hips and you could already feel the bruises even as the head of his cock shifted up enough to find your sweet spot, leaving you wailing out. "Again and again and again!" He got louder and louder with his sounds, growls and grunts turning into wanton groans and gasps as he split you in two. 

This would teach you not to mess with him at work. Or maybe it would teach you to mess with him more.