#then I can get them printed framed and hung up on my wall

[daemon-in-my-head]

Somehow this escalated at some point.

The frame can be untoggled and I've somehow added another... thing (which is just chilling untoggled as well).

[jedi-bird]

Finished a bunch of errands today and did a bit run at a market. Eggs were luckily back in stock at their normal price so I stocked up on them and things to make fancier salads. Bought us some little treats (chocolates for my partner, an air plant in a cat pot and a little plushie plant for me). Spent a long time reorganizing and cleaning out the fridge; only two things needed to be tossed but I've just been shoving things in lately and it's hard to find what I need so I needed to do this. Gathered up the house trash and recycling and took the cans out just before the winds started up again. Changed the sheets and put the laundry away and now I'm very tired and just kind of want to pretend the world doesn't exist for a bit.

[undying-love]

Paul collecting John-related things

"MPL's [Paul's London office] interior style is quietly art deco. Its walls are hung with modern paintings, or framed photos by Linda McCartney, and pride of place goes to her famous shot of Paul and John, laughing and grasping each other's hands at a Sgt. Pepper party in 1967." (Conversations With McCartney, Paul Du Noyer, 2016)

"Children's artwork hung on the walls and above the doors. He was a guy who could afford Picassos, but chose to display his kids' finger-paintings. A big jukebox shone from his sitting room. On the bulletin board in the kitchen were personal photos of McCartney with John Lennon." (http://www.meetthebeatlesforreal.com/2014/09/one-fans-secret-paul-adventure.html)

"A quick scan of his studio kitchen reveals a copy of Mary McCartney’s recipe book and a John Lennon calendar; March’s pin-up is “Moody John” in sunglasses posed against the New York skyline." (Interview with Mark Blake for Q: Songs in the key of Paul. May, 2015)

"I recently bought a lot of drawings and writings by John. I have them on my wall so I get to look at them all the time." (Paul, The Lyrics, 2021)

“McCartney tells me he treasures a six-foot-tall print of a photo he has of himself and Lennon, taken by Linda during the White Album sessions. "I've got the pad and I'm writing, and he's just looking over at me, and you can see the body language and everything: These guys love each other." (interview in GQ 2018)

[sturnsblogs]

THE SECOND DATE

Nick X Tattoo!Artist!Mateo

—

Warnings- Angst, Convincing for consent, manipulation, not proof read.

—

Mateo [8:03 PM]:

hey you. survived your nosy brothers or did they start planning our wedding already?

Nick [8:04 PM]:

lmao barely

matt tried to “casually” ask if you were my boyfriend in the middle of dinner

and chris pulled up your instagram on the TV to “analyze the vibe”

Mateo [8:05 PM]:

okay but what’s the verdict? did i pass?

Nick [8:06 PM]:

chris said you have “boyfriend face” which idk what that means but apparently it’s a compliment

matt said “I mean if you’re happy bro”

so yeah. you passed.

barely.

Mateo [8:07 PM]:

lucky me

but like… did you tell them i’m your boyfriend or nah?

Nick [8:09 PM]:

we hung out one time. calm down, romeo.

Mateo [8:10 PM]:

you didn’t say no though

just saying.

Nick [8:11 PM]:

you’re literally impossible.

Mateo [8:12 PM]:

and yet you’re still texting me.

interesting.

Nick [8:12 PM]:

maybe i’m just bored.

or maybe i like hearing your stupid flirty comments more than i should.

Mateo [8:13 PM]:

maybe?

damn. you’re playing hard to get. i respect it.

but just so you know—i’ve been smiling at my phone for like ten minutes now.

Nick [8:15 PM]:

shut up

don’t make this weird.

Mateo [8:15 PM]:

we had a weirdly perfect hug and held hands like we were in a movie. we passed “weird” a while ago.

[Later that night — 12:34 AM]

Mateo:

you ever hear a song and think “yeah that’s what kissing him would feel like” or is that just me being dramatic again?

Nick [12:36 AM]:

what song?

Mateo [12:36 AM]:

“lover is a day” by cuco. don’t laugh.

i was walking home and it came on and i just… thought of you.

Nick [12:38 AM]:

shut UP

that’s literally been in my playlist since high school

you are such a sap.

Mateo [12:39 AM]:

i know. it’s disgusting.

so… answer the question or nah?

Nick [12:40 AM]:

i think about kissing you more than i probably should

so yeah. you’re not alone.

Mateo [12:41 AM]:

ok wow

i wanna say something really smooth now but all i can think of is “you make my brain melt” so… there’s that.

Nick [12:42 AM]:

that was weirdly smooth. in a Mateo kind of way.

Mateo [12:44 AM]:

then let me be even smoother:

i’m free thursday night.

come over. let me cook you dinner. we’ll watch something dumb after.

maybe kiss once. maybe kiss twice. if you let me.

Nick [12:45 AM]:

so a real date?

Mateo [12:46 AM]:

only if you stop calling it a “hangout” this time.

Nick [12:47 AM]:

…okay.

fine. it’s a date.

but if your cooking sucks i’m never talking to you again.

Mateo [12:47 AM]:

deal. but if my cooking slaps, i get a kiss and you’re not allowed to argue.

chef’s rules.

Nick [12:48 AM]:

…we’ll see.

goodnight, lover boy.

Mateo [12:49 AM]:

goodnight, pretty boy.

A FEW DAYS LATER

Nick stood in front of Mateo’s apartment door, staring at it like it might bite him. He could hear music through the wall—some indie playlist humming faintly, something with warm guitar and lazy vocals. He smoothed down his hoodie, shifted the yogurt cup in his hand (he brought dessert because he panicked and didn’t know what else to do), then knocked.

The door opened almost immediately.

“Wow,” Mateo said, leaning against the frame with that half-smile Nick was starting to know too well. “You actually showed up.”

Nick rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, yeah. I bring frozen yogurt one time and suddenly I’m reliable.”

Mateo stepped back to let him in. “You brought dessert? That’s dangerously boyfriend behavior.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “You made me dinner. That’s husband behavior.”

Mateo grinned. “Touché.”

The apartment was warm and smelled like garlic and something roasting. Nick scanned the space—cozy, a little messy, walls scattered with art prints and a couple sketches that looked like tattoo designs. A hoodie was tossed over the back of the couch, and a candle burned low on the windowsill.

Mateo caught him looking. “Sorry it’s kinda chaotic in here. I cleaned. A little.”

“It’s cute,” Nick said, and realized instantly what he said. His cheeks flushed.

But Mateo just smiled, softer this time. “You’re cute.”

Nick pretended not to hear that. “What’d you make?”

Mateo led him to the kitchen where two plates were already set on the counter. “Pasta with homemade sauce. Don’t ask what’s in it. Just lie and say it’s amazing.”

Nick took a bite. Paused. “…Okay, rude. Why is this actually amazing?”

Mateo beamed. “Told you. Chef’s rules.”

They moved to the couch after dinner, frozen yogurt in hand, feet up, shoulders brushing. They picked some random movie and didn’t pay attention to any of it. The conversation was too easy—about tattoos they wanted, random things they hated as kids, Mateo’s insane neighbor upstairs, YouTube drama, and eventually, again, things that mattered.

“So…you’ve been out for a while?” Mateo asked softly, his thumb absently tracing the edge of his yogurt cup.

Nick nodded. “Yeah. Since I was like…eighteen? Online at least. I don’t know. It’s always just been kind of part of me.”

Mateo nodded. “That’s cool. I didn’t come out until after high school. Didn’t really feel like I could. But I guess I’m making up for lost time now.”

Nick smiled at that, eyes flicking down to where Mateo’s hand rested just beside his. Almost close enough to touch.

“You’re good at this,” Nick said quietly.

Mateo tilted his head. “At what?”

Nick didn’t look at him. “At being open. Making things feel…easy.”

Mateo was quiet for a second. Then, like it was nothing, he let his pinky graze Nick’s. Just the softest brush. He didn’t look away when he did it. Nick didn’t flinch. So Mateo’s fingers slowly wrapped around his.

Their hands stayed there, tangled together like it had always been that way.

They were maybe twenty minutes into the movie—something with a vague plot and too many characters—when Mateo leaned back with a dramatic sigh, stretching his arms behind the couch.

“This movie is terrible,” he muttered. “We should’ve just put on Shrek or something.”

Nick laughed, his knee bumping into Mateo’s. “You picked it.”

Mateo looked over at him, eyes a little lazy from the warmth of the apartment and the quiet buzz between them. “Okay but like… if I said I needed a better view, would that be a dumb excuse to make you cuddle with me?”

Nick raised a brow, trying not to smile. “Extremely dumb.”

Mateo grinned. “And yet?”

Nick paused for a second. Then he shifted, leaning just slightly until his shoulder rested against Mateo’s arm. “Don’t make it weird,” he said under his breath.

Mateo’s voice dropped, all mock-serious. “Never.”

He adjusted, just enough to loop an arm behind Nick, letting his hand rest lightly on Nick’s waist. It wasn’t forceful. It wasn’t pushy. But it was definitely intentional.

Nick didn’t pull away.

He just sank into the warmth a little more, head eventually resting against Mateo’s shoulder, their bodies fitting together like they’d done this before.

The screen flickered with some over-the-top action scene they both ignored. Mateo’s thumb moved in slow circles against Nick’s side, his other hand still cradling the forgotten yogurt cup. Nick could feel his heartbeat in his ears, but he didn’t move.

“You’re comfortable,” Nick mumbled, voice quiet, half-asleep against him.

Mateo smiled to himself. “Yeah?” he whispered back. “You’re literally melting into me right now.”

“Shut up.”

Mateo rested his cheek against Nick’s hair, and for a moment, everything went still. Just the hum of the movie and their breath syncing up.

He didn’t say it out loud, but Nick felt it anyway:

You can relax with me.

And for once, he actually did.

The movie played on, completely ignored at this point. Nick was curled into Mateo’s side, his cheek resting on his shoulder, eyelids heavy but still fluttering open every now and then. Mateo hadn’t said much, just kept his arm around him, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles on the hem of Nick’s hoodie.

At some point, Mateo’s hand drifted lower, just resting near Nick’s waistband. His fingertips toyed with the soft cotton of his shirt, dipping beneath the hem like he wasn’t even thinking about it—like it was second nature. His pinky slipped just barely under the waistband of Nick’s sweatpants, warm against his skin.

Nick’s breath caught, barely, but he didn’t move. He didn’t tense. His body just settled more heavily into Mateo’s, chest rising and falling a little slower.

Mateo noticed, of course. But he didn’t push it. He just let his fingers rest there, soft and careful, his touch both grounding and electric all at once.

A few more minutes passed. Nick tilted his head up slightly, voice low. “You’re not subtle.”

Mateo smiled. “Didn’t say I was trying to be.”

Nick’s eyes were barely open, but he was smiling too now—small and sleepy and real. “You’re warm.”

“You’re clingy,” Mateo teased back, but it came out softer than he meant.

They stayed like that for a moment—quiet, breathing the same air, fingertips still brushing skin.

And then Nick looked at him, really looked, even though his vision was foggy with sleep.

Mateo leaned in.

Slow, slow, slower—until their noses brushed, and Nick met him halfway.

It wasn’t dramatic or practiced. It wasn’t rushed. It was just a gentle, tired kiss—mouths barely moving, lips barely parted, but everything about it said stay.

Nick was still breathless when Mateo kissed him again, slower this time—less sleepy, more wanting. The kind of kiss that lingered even after their lips broke apart. Nick’s body was curled into his, warm and soft beneath the blanket, and Mateo’s hands started to wander again—familiar now. More comfortable.

He kissed down Nick’s jaw, his neck, barely brushing skin. His hand slid under the hem of Nick’s hoodie again, fingertips grazing up his stomach and then down, slow and deliberate, until they hovered just under the waistband of Nick’s sweatpants.

“Still okay?” Mateo asked, his voice low, his lips brushing Nick’s collarbone.

Nick nodded, but it was hesitant.

Mateo kissed him again, firmer this time, like he was trying to pull a different answer from him.

“You’re so hard to read sometimes,” Mateo murmured, hand sliding further under the waistband. “Feels like you want this.”

Nick inhaled sharply, his breath shaky.

“I do,” he admitted, quietly. “Just…”

Mateo pulled back a little, eyes dark and locked on his. “Just what?”

Nick looked up at him, wide-eyed, nervous. “We’ve only hung out, like… twice. This week.”

Mateo exhaled, lips brushing Nick’s jaw. “So?”

“I don’t know,” Nick said, voice small now. “I just—I think it’s too soon for this.”

Mateo didn’t move his hand right away. He rested his forehead against Nick’s instead, keeping him close. “You’re already here though,” he said softly. “You stayed. You kissed me first this time. You let me touch you. Don’t overthink it.”

Nick went quiet, his throat tightening.

Mateo leaned down, kissing him again—gentle, persuasive. His fingers moved just a little further, slipping beneath fabric in a way that made Nick’s whole body stiffen.

He pulled back sharply this time.

“Wait—no,” Nick said, sitting up fast. “Mateo, seriously. I can’t.”

Mateo froze, chest rising and falling a little heavier now. His jaw flexed, not in anger exactly—but frustration was definitely creeping in.

“Nick,” he said slowly. “It’s not that deep.”

Nick shook his head. “Maybe to you, but it is to me.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Nick stared down at his hands. Mateo leaned back against the pillows, his eyes unreadable now.

“You said you liked me,” Mateo muttered.

“I do,” Nick said, his voice breaking a little. “But liking you doesn’t mean I’m ready.”

Mateo let out a breath, quieter this time, and rubbed a hand over his face. “Fine.”

Nick stood up slowly, pulling down his hoodie and adjusting the waistband of his sweats like he needed the physical barrier again. He didn’t say anything else.

Mateo didn’t stop him.

And the silence that followed felt louder than anything either of them could’ve said.

Finally later on

Mateo’s car was parked in the quiet shadow of Nick’s building, engine off, the air between them dim and thick. The stereo played low—some dreamy indie track neither of them were really listening to. Nick sat curled toward the window, picking at the seam of his sleeve. His heart was loud in his chest.

Mateo turned to face him, hand resting lazily on Nick’s thigh. His touch was slow, thumb dragging small circles into the fabric. He leaned in a little, voice gentle, careful.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “I just want you to feel good.”

Nick blinked, lips slightly parted. “Mateo…”

Mateo’s hand slid a little higher, fingertips skimming close to where Nick’s waistband sat. His voice dropped, quieter now. “Let me take care of you, yeah? Just a little.”

Nick didn’t move. Didn’t stop him. His breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t say no.

Mateo leaned in, brushing his lips against Nick’s jaw. “You’ve been so sweet all night,” he whispered, barely there. “You make it really hard to behave.”

Nick’s voice came out like a whisper. “I know.”

Mateo kissed him softly, slow but deepening with each pass of his lips. His hand slipped beneath the waistband this time, no hesitation, and still—Nick didn’t flinch. He let it happen. His breath hitched, fingers curling against Mateo’s arm, but he stayed there, letting Mateo guide the moment.

Mateo pulled back enough to look at him. “You okay?”

Nick nodded once, small. “Yeah.”

Mateo smiled, the soft kind that looked almost proud. “Good. Just relax.”

So Nick did. Or at least, he tried to.

He leaned into the kiss again, body warm and shaky, caught between the high of being wanted and the quiet tug of something uncertain underneath. But Mateo was gentle, lips sweet, voice softer than ever as he kissed down Nick’s throat like a promise.

For now, Nick gave in to it.

Even if part of him wasn’t sure he was ready—he didn’t say no.

Nick woke up late the next morning in his own bed. The sun was already too bright, bleeding through his blinds, and his sheets felt too warm. His body was sore in that dull, spent way, but it wasn’t the physical that had him staring blankly at the ceiling—it was the heavy ache sitting in his chest.

Everything about the night before rushed back all at once. Mateo’s hands. The car. The heat. The kisses. The way Nick had let it happen without really thinking it through.

He reached for his phone, fingers sluggish and hesitant.

10:42 AM

nick: hey

nick: can i ask u something

nick: what are we?

He stared at the screen. Read and reread the words. His stomach twisted while the typing bubble popped up almost instantly.

And then—

mateo: friends.

That was it.

Just one word. Sharp. Casual. Like none of it had meant more than a shared hoodie or an inside joke.

Nick just stared. Then blinked. Then stared again. His chest went cold.

nick: …seriously?

nick: we literally had sex last night

nick: and you’re saying we’re friends?

Mateo left it on delivered.

Nick could feel the spiral start, crawling up the back of his throat.

nick: why’d you act like you cared then

nick: why’d you kiss me like that. touch me like that

nick: you told me to trust you

Still nothing.

His fingers shook a little as he typed the next.

nick: was this a game to you or something?

Finally, Mateo responded.

mateo: you wanted it too

mateo: don’t put that all on me

mateo: we were both in the moment

Nick swallowed hard. It burned.

nick: yeah. i did want it

nick: but i didn’t know you were gonna pretend it meant nothing after

mateo: i never promised anything nick

mateo: i told you not to overthink it

That did it.

Nick tossed his phone onto the bed, chest tight, jaw clenched. He’d never felt this small. Like he’d let someone into a part of himself he usually kept locked away, only to have them laugh in the face of it afterward.

And now?

Now he didn’t know if he was more mad at Mateo… or at himself.

—

A/N- To explain this the storyline is kind of weird with Mateo if you have any questions let me know in my inbox!

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset-deactivate @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @sturnns-world @realuvrrr r @zenithsturniolo

[solar-verse]

Masterlist

11: chapter ten

Idoljk x oc

Both girls were in the apartment in Seoul, which had been provided to them by the brand for their seven-month apprenticeship. They had arrived last night after spending four days in Busan, visiting Rian’s parents. Jia had fit in so seamlessly with her family that it felt like she had known them her whole life. Rian had initially worried that her father might say something or hint at his disapproval of the situation, but to her surprise, he had remained neutral, acting completely normal.

Still, she had really missed her parents. Even though they occasionally visited her in London, it wasn’t the same as being back in her home country. She had missed everything, the food, the atmosphere, the familiarity of it all.

Rian!" Jia burst into the bathroom, clutching two hair ties. "Ponytail or down?"

"Up," Rian said automatically, sliding a silver ring onto her index finger. "It looks more professional." Her own hands weren't entirely steady, she'd redone her eyeliner twice already.

Jia groaned, twisting her dark curls into a high ponytail. "This is worse than our RCA finals."

They were getting ready for their first day at the brand’s headquarters, and if they said they weren’t nervous, they would be lying. Jia had asked about her hair at least a hundred times, and the repetition was starting to get to Rian as well.

"Okay, let’s go," Jia said, taking a deep breath.

The headquarters was only twenty minutes away, so they decided to walk, stopping on the way to grab something to eat since they hadn’t stocked up on groceries yet.

Upon arriving, they were immediately escorted to the reception area in the grand main hall and directed to a seating area.

"Please wait here for a moment. Someone will come shortly to show you around and take you to your workspace," one of the staff members said, bowing politely. The girls returned the gesture with a slight bow of their own before sitting down.

Jia, seated beside Rian, began shaking her legs aggressively, her nerves clearly getting the best of her until Rian placed a firm hand on her knee.

"Jia, please," she whispered. "If you keep doing that, I’ll get even more nervous."

"Sorry," Jia mouthed, but her wide eyes kept darting around the space. "This place is—"

"Terrifying?" Rian supplied, gripping her cup of coffee tighter.

Jia shook her head. "I was going to say inspiring. But yeah. Also terrifying."

Even though they were only on the first floor in the reception hall, the grandeur of the place was overwhelming. Massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting an elegant glow over the pristine white marble floors. The walls were adorned with breathtaking paintings, alongside framed photographs of celebrities and even royalty wearing the brand’s exquisite jewelry. The design was sleek and modern but infused with rich red and gold accents, paying homage to Korea’s cultural heritage.

It was intimidating.

As they were immersed in taking in their surroundings, a woman approached them, prompting both girls to rise from their seats and return her bow.

"Hello, you must be the students sent by RCA. My name is Kim Mina, and I'll be your tour guide for today. I’ll also explain what your roles will be here."

"Hello, my name is Han Rian," Rian said, shaking her hand.

"And I’m Lee Jia," Jia added, doing the same.

"Welcome. As you can see, this building has five floors above ground, but there are also two additional floors below us, making a total of seven floors. The first underground level houses our high-security jewelry vault, where you can find some of the rarest and most exquisite jewelry pieces in the world. It’s highly protected. Below that is the artisans’ workshop, where world-renowned goldsmiths and gem setters work. It also contains a 3D printing lab and the quality control department."

She led them toward the elevator as she continued, "On the first floor, where we are now, you’ll find our showrooms and galleries. The second floor, which we’re heading to next, is what we call the Creativity Space. Here, you’ll find all the designers, material researchers, and collaboration spaces."

They stepped into the elevator, and Mina continued explaining, "Directly above that is what I call the Corporate Space, which handles the more boring aspects of the business, CEO offices, finance, and legal teams. The fourth floor is dedicated to digital and marketing strategies. Finally, the top floor is a highly secure VIP space. Access is by appointment only, and it’s used for showcasing high-jewelry pieces, storing archives, and catering to VIP clients who request custom pieces."

She turned to them. "Any questions?"

Both girls shook their heads, trying to absorb all the information.

"Now, as I mentioned, this floor is dedicated to design and creativity. We have thirty-six designer teams, and the two of you will be assigned to different teams."

"We’ll be separated?" Jia asked, slightly surprised.

"Yes, you will," Mina confirmed, glancing at her papers. "Jia, you’ll be assigned to the Digital & NFT Division. This way, please."

They followed her to a spacious, modern room where seven designers were working at their stations.

"Daella," Mina called, and a blonde woman lifted her head before walking toward them.

"This is the student assigned to your team, Jia. You’ll be working under Daella Smith, who leads the designers in this division."

"Please take care of me," Jia said with a polite bow.

"That’s great! Come on in and meet the team," Daella said with a smile. Jia turned to wave at Rian before stepping inside.

"Okay, Rian," Mina continued. "You’re assigned to the Men’s & Unisex Lab. This way, please."

They walked toward another section of the floor, where Mina introduced her to a man in his late twenties.

"This is Choi Hwan, who will be your team leader."

"Hello, my name is Han Rian," she said, bowing respectfully.

"Oh, the student?" he asked Mina, who nodded in confirmation. "Welcome! Come in, please."

"Everyone, this is Rian. She’s a student from RCA, and she’ll be with us for seven months. Let’s make her feel welcome," Hwan announced.

He gestured toward an empty desk. "That will be your spot. Please make it your own."

Rian nodded and began organizing her workspace, placing her sketchbook, tools, and a few personal items to make it feel more comfortable.

"Rian, once you’re settled, come join us over there. We always have a small brainstorming session at the end of the day to discuss ideas and upcoming projects."

"Okay," she replied with a small smile.

By the end of the workday, Rian stepped outside, waiting for Jia.

"Rian!" she heard someone call. Turning around, she saw Jia approaching with a guy and a girl. Rian wasn’t surprised, Jia had a way of making friends wherever she went.

"This is my friend Rian, the one I told you about," Jia introduced her proudly. "And Rian, these are Mayra and Jiho. I met them in my team today."

"Hello! Jia talked about you a lot," Mayra said warmly. She was a stunning girl with golden skin and striking hazel eyes.

"All good things, I hope?" Rian asked with a teasing smile.

"Relax," Jia said. "I'm saving your criminal record for the third hangout."

"Nice to meet you," Jiho said, offering a friendly nod. He was attractive in an intellectual way, with slightly tousled hair styled neatly enough to look effortless. His black-framed glasses only added to his overall aesthetic.

"You too," Rian replied.

"So, Mayra and I were talking, and she suggested we introduce you guys to Seoul’s nightlife as a little celebration for our first day here," Jiho said.

Rian was exhausted from the long day, but she didn’t want to leave Jia alone with people she had just met, even if they seemed friendly. She was still in a foreign country, far from the UK.

"at Club Octagon at 10?" Mayra added.

"Why not?" she agreed with a shrug.

"Great! We’ll meet there then. A few more friends of mine will be joining too, it’ll be fun," Jiho said enthusiastically.

Jiho pulled out his phone. "Let me get your contact in case you get lost." His smile revealed a faint dimple.

As Rian opened her KakaoTalk QR code, she caught Jia and Mayra exchanging gleeful looks, Jia even wiggled her eyebrows. Fantastic.

Great, she thought. Now I have two Jias to deal with.

"See you tonight," Jiho said, pocketing his phone with a wink.

As Jiho and Mayra walked away, Jia smirked at Rian. "Looks like someone’s already caught some attention."

Rian rolled her eyes. "Shut up and let's get ready."

When they entered the club, it was exactly what they had imagined Seoul’s nightlife to be, loud, energetic, and packed with people. The music pulsed through the air, neon lights flickered across the room, and the crowd moved in sync with the heavy bass.

The pulse of bass vibrated through Rian's chest as they pushed through the throng of dancers, neon lights streaking across her vision. She gripped Jia's hand tighter, their linked fingers the only anchor in the sea of bodies. Her phone buzzed, Jiho's message glowed on the screen VIP upstairs. Give our names at the rope.

The bouncer's tablet flashed green at their names, and suddenly they were ascending into a world of low-slung leather sofas and bottle service, the music slightly muted here. Myra sprang up, her sequined dress scattering light like a shattered disco ball.

Her face lighting up when she saw them. She pulled them both into a hug.

"Damn, girl! You look so hot," Mayra said, stepping back to admire Rian. "If I wasn’t into guys, I’d totally bag you."

"You wouldn’t be the first, but get in line, I called dibs first," Jia joked, smirking.

"Shut up," Rian muttered, rolling her eyes playfully before turning her attention to the rest of the group.

She scanned the section. Jiho stood from a curved banquette. "You look incredible," he murmured, fingers brushing her elbow.

"Thank you," Rian replied, trying to subtly shake Jia’s hand off her side, Jia was clearly enjoying this too much.

Jiho chuckled before gesturing toward the guy next to him. "This is Yijun, a music producer. And these are the girls we were waiting for, Jia and Rian."

"Oh, nice to meet you both," Yijun said with a warm smile.

"You too," Rian responded politely, sliding into the seat next to Jia while absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear.

As she glanced around, she heard a voice beside her.

"So, Jiho told me you’re from the UK?" Yijun asked curiously.

"Oh, no," Rian corrected. "I studied there since I was sixteen, but I’m originally from here."

"Ah, so I missed my chance to compliment your Korean?" he teased.

She laughed lightly. "You still can, honestly. My Korean is a bit rusty now."

"Where in Korea are you from?"

"I lived in Seoul for a while, but I spent most of my childhood in Busan."

"Busan? The guy who’s running late is from there too," Yijun mentioned casually.

"Oh, really?" Rian joked. "Maybe I know him."

"Who knows, maybe."

Just then, she heard someone else enter the VIP section. The sound of a greeting reached her ears, and she sensed someone approaching the seat behind her.

She instinctively turned with a polite smile, ready to introduce herself.

"Hello—"

But her voice caught in her throat. Her smile vanished the moment her eyes landed on him.

He froze too.

"Rian?"

"Jungkook."

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 6

Art... and more! gird your loins, people! hold onto thy merkins! if i can pull it off, this should hopefully be the last fluff chapter before shit gets kicked to high gear. ao3! ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

My Head Is An Animal

Johnny’s career is rapidly expanding.

The art fair had helped make Johnny excited about making art again. That, combined with the compliments you had so freely given to him yesterday and a new round of about twenty orders has him ecstatic about maintaining his storefront.

Enough time has elapsed that the first person who made the first order Johnny ever shipped had written a review- perhaps making it fancier than it needed to be when they saw how barren Johnny’s Etsy page was, but that didn’t exactly matter. Not when they had raved about how you could feel emotions behind every pen stroke! Or how they went and bought a frame for the small piece of paper! Or how it was probably hung in the reviewer’s art gallery!

It was nearly enough to make Johnny print the review out and paste it on a wall somewhere if he was being honest.

The Etsy soon turns into a TikTok page he pesters Simon into helping him set up once the storefront has gained enough traction to warrant it.

Things happen, and somehow the TikTok account gains half a million followers. Somehow, someway, Johnny finds himself in a community within Tiktok. It happens suddenly with duets and slideshows(Simon thinks, at least). Still, Johnny is soon reporting back about online friends, art trades, and after a while, being invited to local art fairs after being sniffed out by organizers, even.

Johnny is very much excited. He’s getting busier and busier, and though Simon doesn’t enjoy his time away from home, it is good for both of them, he thinks. Something to focus on. And brings back a decent amount of money, too.

You’re obviously invited to the art fairs Johnny gets stalls at. Johnny’s always over the moon to see you and sneaks free trinkets- like a bookmark or postcard- into your bag when he’s sure you’re not looking. Of course, this earns him a stern talking to when you notice, but your worries are easily quarried by puppy eyes and matching pout; “but Ae wanted to give you sa’thing, bon?”, he’s said before, and it doesn’t take very long for your resolve to crumble again. Sure, you could have argued that you could have bought it yourself, but you know that would only be matched with an offended glare from Johnny.

Truth be told, Johnny’s becoming really rather fond of you. Simon as well- such as when you had come to the third art fair Johnny showed at and had gotten lost after leaving Johnny’s booth. You’d gotten turned around a lot and were just about to ask someone when Simon caught your shoulder. He had called you a few times and when you didn’t answer, he went to find you. He corrals you back with the gentleness a shepherd must have with a lamb.

You’re starting to notice that Johnny has really started to take off. He’s gone to café’s and art podcasts and presentations at colleges and now cons and he has even been invited onto live stream with other art content creators on TikTok that he can now solidly call his friends. He gets along with them well and is even able to make meaningful friendships. For example, he meets a man who makes beautiful knitted mixed media work named Sammy who’s nothing short of a sweetheart to Johnny, talking to him via DMS and supplying him with inspiration when he gets stuck in a mood. Sammy is there, talking to him in his silly American accent and showing him the new knitted beanie he made out of recycled plastic bags for his 60-pound Maine Coon cat.

Then there’s Gloria, a cross stitcher. She’s well into her years, with her TikTok account being run by her great-grandson who kept her young with his quips and jokes. She quickly establishes herself by cursing like a sailor when her grandson jokingly insults her works from over the years. She also makes quite a few phallic pieces which, to no one’s surprise, the grandson rather likes. She’s so charming to Johnny because she sort of feels like his grandmammy.

Gloria reassures and encourages Johnny about his artwork over calls, which her great-grandson sets up and orchestrates because there's no way Gloria’s little arthritis-stricken claws would be able to navigate modern technology.

Simon likes his new online friends, too. Simon has become a staple in Johnny’s fanbase’s culture and his livestreams, oftentimes poking in to say hi or leave a coffee while Johnny draws on stream. He becomes prominent; it's easy to say that his fanbase adores the two of them especially when they get to hear their backstory, learning about how they met. It's enough to make him even more endearing to the public eye.

Life’s going awesome for him. He’s been going to art fairs in the area every other week, and even though fall is rapidly approaching, he's never been in better spirits. The cool weather usually means Johnny stops making art for a while because the warm weather helps keep him springy and stops his bad elbow joints from aching terribly. Now, he feels more than willing to tough it out.

Life just gets better when a rather large creator on the platform, someone named Jessica Johnson, invites him to an ‘ArtTok Conference’ about 50 miles away from Johnny and Simon’s flat in Manchester, so they plan to pack themselves up for the week with the dog. The venue itself is beautiful, all natural light, sleek marble and wood, and Johnny’s there to talk on a few panels to fans and do some live art as an installation; he’s going to be paid for his work, to just sit down in the gardens of the venue with Riley and do his art stuff while people walk around and observe and enjoy his art. He’d do it for free, honestly.

After he accepts the offer, he starts packing after he tells you, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him. His cheeks are glowing and his smile lines have just become more defined as he's grown with his online career. When he announces that he’ll be at the con later that month, his Etsy shop completely sells out.

When the conference starts, Simon is attentive, caring and comforting. When Johnny gets ready for the first panel, Simon helps him steam the shirt he's gonna wear on the panel. When Johnny is signing prints at an M&G and his pen suddenly craps out, Simon’s there with an extra. When Johnny does his first day of sitting in the gardens and drawing, Simon stays with him, just standing there until one of the staff members brings him a chair. At the end of the first day, when Johnny face plants into the hotel room’s bed, Simon is quick to work out the knots from Johnny’s back. 

Johnny, if he’s being honest, is still a little sad that you weren’t able to make it, what with it being held in the middle of the work week and being an hour’s drive. You’re apologetic, of course, but he knows better than to be hurt terribly.  He feels better when you leave comments on all of the clips that he posts on his TikTok, and you still text whenever you can. He’s happy to be at the con and he’s thoroughly enjoying it, too. Simon’s like his own support system, leaving the conference building for coffee and bagels, and during the con, he’s like his own attraction at Johnny’s stall. People who don’t know Johnny are allured over by the six-foot-something man with the happiest-looking service dog ever and usually end up buying one of the many prints of Riley Johnny has done before.

Later in the week, he gets a panel all to himself where he talks about his charcoal art and how he made his style. Surprisingly, there’s a large turnout. He thought that nobody would want to listen to him ramble about the art he’s been making since high school or, even less, talk to him about his art. After the panel and a lengthy M&G, he starts planning when he’s going to release more things on his Etsy shop, just from how many of his prints he signed in less than three hours. In the time he has between panels and his live art installation, he finds himself doing thumbnails, just as an outlet for all the excess creative energy he has. It’s so fulfilling to see something he’s only ever seen something as a hobby grow into a whole community of his own, grow into a career and a plausible one at that.

Still, like all good things, the con comes to an end. He finishes the live art installation and then he and Simon say their goodbyes before making their way back home. Back to you.

In the space between, everything moves on in a peaceful sort of bliss. He’s restocking the Etsy regularly now, because of how much demand has ramped up. The art fairs are slowing as the cool weather sets in and he goes to his last one right as you get some free time, so it’s perfect timing for a little catch-up outing.

You get dinner at the art fair together, eating traditionally made pasta dyed colourful colours by plants while Johnny tells you everything about his time at the con. It just makes you sad that you missed it, just from how *happy* he sounds from the… Well, everything. He shows you pictures with fans and the highlight reels said fans made of his panels and endearing videos littered over his TikTok feed. You’re fully caught up in no time.

You’ve just finished dinner when Johnny gets the invitation. Johnny looks down at his phone while both you and Simon are engaged in conversation while he stares down at his screen. Then he gasps; loud and cartoonish.

“Ae- Ae go’ invited to a residency! In a gallery! Holy *hells*-“ he says, before a long and very animated string of curses as he finishes the email.

“Residency?” Simon asks.

“Gallery?” You ask.

“Yes!” Johnny says. “Oh, bleedin’ Mary. Look!” He says before he shoves his phone screen in your face, before passing it to Simon.

And, for the first time ever, you hear Simon laugh. It’s husky, like a smoker’s, but it’s endearing in a way. He wraps his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and kisses his temples.

“Yeah, I think this counts for another.” He says, flagging down the waiters for another round of drinks.

<- back next ->

[skeedelvee]

Carry On Countdown Day 24 - Holiday Shopping

For this year's COC I've decided to put together daily fic rec lists! Let me know if you find any new favorite reads from these <3

For todays prompt I've gone with fics that either involve holiday shopping, general shopping, or gifts

Holiday Shopping:

So This Is Christmas by @krisrix

Rated T, 57,557 words

Simon Snow hasn't got a clue as to why he doesn't want to fight his vampire nemesis to the death. All he's got is a stupid plan to pretend that he and Baz are dating so that The Mage won't make them fight. Baz Pitch has got an envelope bursting with money and a burning desire to enjoy whatever time he can with the boy he loves. What he hasn't got is any clue what goes through Simon's head. The two form a truce and run away together for Christmas, eager to bask in the things the holiday ought to bring...while the threat of war breathes down their necks. Snow's blubbering stops short as he takes in the beauty of the hotel’s interior. The lighting is dim and warm, making the off-white walls gleam. The furnishings are wooden and well cared for, the polish immaculate. I can see several fireplaces at work with a cursory glance. Perhaps most lovely of all is the scent of fresh pine wafting from the various wreaths and garlands artfully hung about. There are little baubles and lights in them. I eagerly await evening, when the hotel surely becomes even cosier and dimmer—I’m certain the Christmas lights will look divine when twinkling in Snow’s eyes.

What Do You Get for the Grandson Who Has Nothing and the Grandmother Who Has Everything? by me! @skeedelvee

Rated G, 2,041 words

Simon and Ruth struggle with what to get each other for their first Christmas together

Shopping and/or Gifts:

Old Friends and New Beginnings by @livisafish and @yellobb

Rated G, 1,576 words

Simon leads her around the flat (I think he’s relaxed some from seeing Natasha’s excitement), showing her how to get to her very own Netflix account, feeding her slices of his homemade brioche (my favorite, the sap), letting her jump on our bed (and telling her she’s welcome to come share with us any time she wants to), and taking pictures of the three of us to print and frame later today. When it comes to showing her the nursery, it’s my turn to have my stomach twist in knots. I hope she likes Paddington… 

Cedar and Smoke by Selkiesfour

Rated G, 2,993 words

Simon's flat is very depressing. There's nothing here. Besides the chocolate bar wrappers in the sofa cushions and mess of clothes on the floor, there’s no hint of Simon residing here full time. He doesn't have art on the walls, or trinkets on his bookshelves. He doesn't even have a bookshelf. There's barely any furniture, except for what we bought at our only IKEA trip, and the bed frame Penny found at a flea market. It doesn't take a lot of persuading for Simon to come shop at TK Maxx with me. We go everywhere together these days, and we’re trying to build a life together in his little one-bedroom flat. -- or the one where snowbaz goes shopping at tk maxx !

The Pleasure Is Mine by @philaet0s

Rated E, 4,726 words

“Lingerie?” I ask, looking up at him with a smile tugging at my lips. ——————————— or, it’s Baz’s birthday, and Simon treats him well

Silk & Velvet by @captain-aralias

Rated E, 7,940 words

Valentine's Day falls on a Thursday and Simon is old, now. They both are. Almost thirty. He knows he should have stuck with the boring gift Baz asked for, but he didn't and now— Well.

Flamey by Star4545

Rated G, 1,609 words

Baz and Penny throw Simon a birthday party and Baz's gift makes Simon a little emotional

Paper Rings by Bigspookyfan

Rated G, 1,280 words

"I was at Poundland and I was walking through the halloween aisles and I saw it and I swear I wasn't gonna buy it. I was already out of the store but I just had to come back for it, you know? It made me think of you." Simon gets Baz a gift. The problem is Baz is not sure if he likes it

Second Hand by @thewholelemon

Rated M, 3,681 words

Simon needs some professional clothes and Penny heard of this great shop. The boy behind the counter’s a little rude though.

If you have any recs that fit the prompt that I've missed, feel free to leave them in the comments! There's plenty of gaps in my reading so there's a good chance I may not have read it

Also I've had a hard time finding if some people are here on Tumblr, so if you know someone who hasn't been tagged, feel free to leave that in the comments as well <3

@carryon-countdown

[lilyannlilith]

Long Distance by Lily Ann Lilith [releasing Feb 14, 2025]

Raw link, since Tumblr is determined to make it broken: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DWFYDGC9

A huge career opportunity finds Evie working out-of-province, away from her long-term partner Xander. Unexpected obstacles force her to prioritize work over love – and she worries this might test the limits of their relationship. Can she make it up to Xander when she finally returns home? Or has her time away torn them apart for good?

❤️Short story (12.5k words)

❤️Smutty

❤️Single POV story told in third-person

❤️First two scenes below the cut:

Evie had a flight to catch in less than four hours, and she was going to be late if Xander didn’t let up with his glorious tongue.

“Baby,” she panted, pawing uselessly at his head. “Baby, please, I need to—aah!” She broke off as he minutely adjusted the angle of his face to spear his tongue deeper into her pussy. She had already endured three orgasms and was rapidly hurtling toward a fourth. But all her whimpering only made Xander moan and devour her more enthusiastically.

Which she normally welcomed. But right now, she needed to pack, and she couldn’t do that if she was completely fucked out, reduced to Jell-o legs and a liquified brain.

Grabbing a fistful of his dark curls, she jerked his head upward and whined. “Stop.”

Xander finally relented, lifting his head to rest a cheek against her trembling thigh. His full, cum-slicked lips parted in a deliriously proud smile as he stared up at her. “I’m gonna have to go weeks without tasting you. Gotta make sure I do this right.”

“You have,” she panted, trying and failing to convince her muscles to move her off the bed. “You’ve done very right. Multiple times. But I still have to catch my flight.”

“You’re not gonna be late. Last time you had to wait an hour for boarding.”

“I’d rather be an hour early than an hour late!”

He rolled his eyes, blue as a beach day sky, then pressed a messy kiss to her inner thigh. “I won’t let you be late.”

“But I still haven’t packed because you distracted me all night—”

“I wanted to make sure you got a good night’s sleep.”

“Bullshit. So now I still have to pack my suitcase and shower and get breakfast and then there’s the drive and traffic and—”

In one smooth motion, he pulled himself up the bed to settle his weight on top of her, silencing her with a chaste (if filthy) kiss. Forehead against hers, he murmured, “I’ll make breakfast while you pack. And then I’ll help you pack.”

“Okay.”

“But first, I wanna help you shower.”

Evie narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like an even bigger delay.”

“Nah. I won’t bend you over or anything.” He sat up enough to offer her a cheeky grin. “But I’d love to give you a farewell facial. If you’re up for it?”

Her body chose that moment to shudder with an aftershock. Moaning, she said, “I do like returning favours…”

Suddenly, Xander was much keener about leaving bed.

* * *

Barely twenty minutes later, Evie was scrubbed clean, her long hair bound up in a towel to stop it from dripping on her suitcase and the array of clothes spread out on the bedroom floor. Sipping hot tea for her pleasantly aching throat, she methodically rolled up a shirt to squeeze into her suitcase. She travelled semi-regularly for her job, meeting with engineering teams to help design bridges. The frequency combined with her neurosis meant she had developed a strategy for maximum packing efficiency, including an itemized list of essentials that had a permanent place on her phone. Still, she knew she would end up checking and double-checking and triple-checking that she had everything she needed (and would probably check a few more times after that if Xander didn’t force her to zip everything shut and get the hell out the door).

Pausing in her packing, she looked up at the three massive prints dominating the wall above the dresser. Hung in understated black frames, the trio of black and white photos showcased her favourite bridges. The Confederation Bridge, closest to home and an engineering feat, crossing thirteen kilometers of freezing water in a sinuous path to connect Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick. JK Bridge in Brazil, supported by three massive, sweeping arches overlapping each other in a ballet of diagonal steel, strength and grace at once. And, lastly, the Golden Bridge of Vietnam, held aloft by two giant’s hands emerging from the earth, godly in their size and beauty, humble in their steadfast support of a short footpath. Wildly different in their scales, locales, and designs, but stunning in their own rights.

They reminded her of her dream, of the ultimate goal: Designing bridges as beautiful as they were functional. So far, all her projects had been small, unremarkable—not opportunities to really flex her eye for design or create something jaw-dropping. But this project…

“Oh, my delectable honey bunch,” Xander called as he entered the room. He delighted in coming up with obnoxious, ridiculous, or way too saccharine terms of endearment so he could watch her roll her eyes or wrinkle her nose. Sometimes, she even deigned to laugh.

This time he got an eye roll. “Is breakfast ready? I’m starving.”

“I bet you are. But I wanted to give you something before I started cooking.”

“Xander! You said you’d make breakfast while I packed to save time so I could—”

“And I will,” he cut in, “but I need five minutes, tops, to give you a little gift. I want you to have plenty of time to Tetris it in there with your godly organizational skills.”

Another eyeroll, this time more exasperated and deeply impatient. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Xander.”

“Humour me.”

Grumbling, she did as she was told.

“Hold out your hands.”

She complied. Something roughly cylindrical landed in her palms, a little longer than the full breadth of her two hands. It was firm, but even on a first touch, she could tell there was an almost fleshy give to it.

“What—” She opened her eyes, half-expecting to find that Xander had pulled down his sweatpants and rested his boner on her palms. What she found instead was—

Wait…

She turned the object slowly, examining the details. Because while it was unquestionably a dildo, it also bore a striking resemblance to the cock that had finished on her face a mere ten minutes ago. The same weight and girth between her hands, with a path of veins along the shaft that her tongue had long-since memorized. Even the colour was exact.

“It’s custom,” he said. The pride and mischief in his eyes, combined with his words, confirmed that the toy was, indeed, modeled after his own dick.

“Um… thanks?”

Xander crouched so he was eye-level with her. Cupping her face in his hands, he said, “I know we’re gonna miss each other, and I know how you get when you’re stressed about work. I can only imagine that’ll be dialed up to eleven on a project like this. If I can’t literally be there to fuck the stress out of you and make sure you’re sleeping at night, I’d like you to at least feel like I’m there.”

“That’s… actually kind of sweet.” It wasn’t the first time he’d sent her off with something to remind her of him, but usually it was one of his well-worn sweaters, or a plushy lightly misted with his favourite cologne. Evie glanced at her suitcase, already mapping out what rearrangements would be necessary to accommodate the dildo. She had planned on bringing her favourite clit sucker and wand. Maybe she could swap out the wand…

Xander brought her face toward his long enough to boop and kiss her nose. Rising to his feet, he headed for the kitchen, saying, “I’ll leave you to your genius, my darling sweet potato pie.”

This time, she laughed.

[wisteriasymphony]

It is quite funny that they got mad at that anon's message of a prompt depicting Marinette in a negative light... despite running an entire blog full of prompts depicting Adrien in a negative light

my philosophy regarding these things is that you have to be able to take as much as you dish out. it is probably reasonable to get a bit annoyed about being messaged off-topic things on a blog with a dedicated topic (unless this was on a separate blog of theirs, idk. this already feels like I'm involving myself quite deep into this drama and digging up old dirt), but having your reasons behind hating a character be based on such an immature view of things probably correlates to a lack of ability to gracefully take other viewpoints.

like, there are good reasons to dislike adrien as a character. some salt on him extends from grains of truth about his portrayal, just as salt on marinette extends from grains of truth about her portrayal as well; we all pick and choose these and exaggerate or flanderize them and essentially change the character to our dis/liking as we see fit. the best way to go about this is, imo, to play with tropes and conceptions of these characters and see where things go and how that reflects on the world and how that character, in turn, can affect people's views on things. media can be divorced from the real world, and often is, but it doesn't exist in a vacuum and never will. part of the fun of salt is picking apart the characters and poking out how their traits aren't given the scrutiny and care they might deserve.

...the bad way to go is not examining why this character ticks you off, and instead framing them in the worst light possible without avenue for playing around with it. you'd be treating everything this fake person does with extreme scrutiny, exaggerating not for the fun of playing with the character, but to show everyone that this blorbino sucks ass and nobody should ever like them.

.....A troubling amount of salt is the latter way. Not all (most hangs in the middle), but enough.

^^ This does not apply to the mlb writers btw, especially The-Ass-In-Charge. They are real people whose writing choices are deliberate and not at all 'divorced' from the real world in the way a character's choices are. In fact, for every salt post about a character, there should be twenty pointing out that the writers were wack for choosing to make the character be that way. (This tends to be something Marisalters do better, in my experience, but that's not to say the problem isn't there)

...god, what was i talking about again? adrisalt? imo it's confusing but my own adrien is so different from canon that i'm not particularly bothered.

when we get an eddisalter/tweos!adrisalter, however. that will change. I might even make an annoying effort to get close to them because the best way to improve is to seek out criticism.

the first claudrien hater will get their post printed out and hung on my wall with a kiss mark in the corner. if rjwhatever would love to be that guy for me, send him my way.

[explode-this]

I’ve been arranging and rearranging the art wall behind where I sit during the day to work on stuff, and I love it so much I want to show it off. I’ve been holding on to some of this art for ages until I get frames and things, but I decided to go the blu-tack route—very carefully, of course. For matte prints I affix some tape to the back of the piece in the corners so if I have to remove the work, the blu-tack won’t take some of the paper with it. Some are hung up with bulldog clips, like when I have a whole bunch of art cards and want to swap them out periodically. It makes my calendar feel much less lonely! Other stuff includes a couple of baseball cards (the one above the calendar is Luis Robert currently of the White Sox; the one more to the right is the infamous Bill Ripken Orioles “Fuck Face” card, where the bottom of his bat handle has “fuck face” sharpied on it), some words of wisdom (like “I don’t know fuck about shit, dawg” from one of my favorite podcasters, and “fuck shame, keep writing” and “one dumb word at a time” from a dear friend), a bonus 10 of swords (from the Modern Witch Tarot Deck by Lisa Serle) that says “everything is fine” underneath, a little altar shelf with a praying glo-worm and some rose quartz on it, a picture of my cats from childhood caught mid-fight, a couple of birthday cards from my primary partner, a little diamond painting I did, a giant sensory popper toy (hung on the wall so I can find it when I need it, but it looks cute there), a keyring that looks like “The Woodsboro Murders” by Gale Weathers but says instead “I’ll send you a copy,” and Gene and Tina Belcher as pickles. Of course Gene is purple and fabulous.

Here are the art credits!

Outlined in pink: @sergle (took me forever to get these somewhere I can see them every day but I loooove them)

Outlined in blue: @passionpeachy (just got these prints this week! Am in love)

Outlined in green: @simkaye (I have many cards to choose from, so I might swap them out at some point)

Outlined in orange: @thelatestkate (I have a lot to choose from here as well so I hung them up with clips so I can change them out)

Outlined in yellow: @enjoy-mycake (the Fortune Queens deck I have came with three extra foil copies of certain cards and I love Katya as the Fool lmao)

Anyway, buy art from independent artists! It will make your life and living space so bright ♥️

[hexcryingwolf]

hey so, like,

i need somebody close to glip to confront them about the Pearl thing.

i need someone to be as upset about the idea of it as i am.

i need it to be the last straw for somebody.

because if none of that happens, i cant even articulate how horrid that is. that the prospect of this accusation doesnt upset people.

i hope its not true. i hope with every fiber of my being that it didnt happen.

but i fully believe it did. four years after leaving that space my want was still for glip to heal, stop hurting people, and become a better person. i was still pretty scared of them, but i had pretty much moved on by the beginning of this year. there was nothing i could do about it, and sharing my experiences would just put a target on my back anyway, so as a lot of huge life changes were on the horizon for me i felt prepared to let go.

but i cant let this go. after years of tending the wounds that community inflicted on my this was a knife directly into my heart.

remember that political thing that happened in november 2016? i was in the flora irc by that time, and everyone was very rattled by it. glip announced that, to put some good into the world, theyd do a commission for anyone who donated x amount to y charity (i dont remember the specifics). id been a fan of glip's for years at that point, and this was an opportunity to finally have something id wanted for a long time.

a portrait of my cat, who i got as a baby, who passed away after almost twenty-one years, from my favourite artist.

they truly did a wonderful job with it. it looked so much like him. i dont have a lot of photos of him, he lived in the pre-smartphone era, so this was a precious thing to me. i had it printed, i got a frame, i hung it on my wall. it meant everything to me.

after all of the stuff that happened to me and leaving flora, it became tainted. now instead of reminding me of something i loved dearly it reminded me of something that hurt me badly. i couldnt get rid of it though. i took it off the wall, out of the frame, and slotted it onto a shelf where i could still see it, if i wanted to. it felt really awful, but i knew i loved that cat more than i could ever fear glip, so maybe someday i could look at it again without being reminded of them. maybe someday that portrait could go back up on my wall as an expression of love for my first best friend.

then i was told about what they had supposedly done to Pearl. and when i tell you i fucking bluescreened when i heard that... it fucking shattered me. it was a cold knife in my heart. the dog stuff was horrid of course but, something about this just broke something in me.

i had to walk away from my phone. i had to go find one of my cats and just. i just sat on the floor and pet her as she lay on the futon and purred and trusted me utterly, like im sure Pearl did for you, glip. she knows i love her, that i provide for her, that i would never bring harm to her. i just sat with her and cried.

im crying now, writing this. my hands are shaking.

do you care, glip?

my husband came to check on me, i told him what i was told and he was disgusted, the correct response. he was angry. he was angry. and for the first time in years, i wasnt scared of glip anymore.

i was fucking pissed.

i wish i didnt have to explain why, because it should be damn fucking obvious, but let me lay it out: a person's pet is their ward. we have a duty and responsibility to do everything we can to give the best lives possible for the animals we bring into our lives. we are their source of food, shelter, healthcare, everything. we are their world. and they should be able to trust that we would never use them for something selfish, because here's the thing: they don't understand the world as we do. theyre animals, they simply cant. WE are the ones who know right from wrong and act for them accordingly. WE keep them fed. WE keep them safe. WE make that final decision that they cant make when their suffering is to much to bear anymore. they trust us to do the things for them they can never understand.

we dont use them for our own sexual gratification. we dont do this because they dont understand that theyre being used, they have no context for how they are being treated, they dont know it shouldnt be happening.

they are helpless.

they are voiceless.

they are the perfect victim.

like a baby who will never grow up and tell everyone the truth.

like a baby, glip. like a helpless, voiceless baby.

and dont you ever fucking try to play the "well she initiated it" card. animals initiate all kinds of shit they shouldnt, things that are dangerous, could hurt them, could make them sick. knowing better is OUR job.

also. uhm. hey. did you know that "well they started it" is a thing child predators have said, do say, will say, about their victims.

here's a 10yo who "came onto" her abuser

here's a dad who claimed his daughter was just "a sexual kid"

here's a daycare worker who said the 1yo he abused was "promiscuous"

and you, glip. using Pearl because she was just "showing you love". just because its a "nicer" reason doesnt make you any fucking different from these monsters in my eyes.

i could not look at that portrait anymore. how could i ever look at him, and not remember what you do to helpless creatures like him. how could i think about what you did and remember you telling me no, of course marl never touched the cats, when i asked you if you were concerned that he might have. seems my worry was misplaced.

i burned the portrait. i took a small cast iron pot into my yard, ripped it to shreds, and spent a two hundred count box of matches on it. one wasnt enough. ten wasnt enough. one hundred wasnt enough. i did not want this thing to exist anymore. i did not want him, my cat, my first best friend, that piece of my soul that left this earth with him, to ever be able to be associated with you. that fire is burning in me now.

i do not capitalize your name anymore explicitly because you are subhuman by my standards. i do not want you to find healing and get better. i want you to face the consequences for all the hurt youve cause. i want you deplatformed so you can finally stop putting so much agony into the world.

if you didnt do it, youll have to convince me. you know my discord.

if you did do it, admit it. tell everyone what you did. you owe it to people so they can decide whether they want to associate with you or not based on it. i think if someone asks you directly, you wont lie about it.

because you dont believe you did anything wrong, do you?

[emptycoffeemug]

Kyara's Journey || Chapter 3: This Isn't My First Gym Battle

wordcount: 2,371

“I’m here to challenge the Santalune Gym,” Alex told the curly-haired woman behind the desk.

It was an unfamiliar environment for Alex. He had wondered if he was in the wrong place when his map directed him to a building that looked very much like an art gallery. Inside, the pristine white walls and concrete floor had only strengthened the impression. He knew Viola was a photographer, but this was a bit over the top. The gyms in Sinnoh had been quite different.

However, the woman at the desk was clearly used to this. She smiled, her round glasses glinting merrily. “Can I get your name?”

“Alex, from Veilstone City.”

“Alright, please scan your trainer ID.”

Alex placed his pokedex face down on the screen. It lit up displaying his information.

The woman pressed a button and got up from her desk. “This way please,” she said as one of the large prints on the wall slid to the side, revealing a passage.

It led to the battlefield in what appeared to be an enclosed garden. The walls surrounding the field were several feet tall, and beyond them were trees and shrubs growing in a very natural fashion, not at all like a planned garden. It was as if someone had transplanted a chunk of the forest and enclosed it within the dome.

While Alex walked onto the field, Kyara went up to the upper level to watch. She leaned on the wall as Azurill bounced along it.

On the other end of the field, Viola emerged from a door half-hidden in the bushes. Her short blond hair curved inward around her face. A camera hung around her neck. She almost blended in with the undergrowth.

“Welcome to the Santalune Gym! I’m Viola, the Santalune City Gym Leader,” she called when she had gained the field.

“I’m Alex from Veilstone City, and I’d like to challenge you to a battle,” Alex answered, his pokeball already in his hand.

“I saw you only have one Pokémon registered in the Kalos region, so this will be a one-on-one match, but don’t think I’ll be going easy on you,” Viola warned. Her own pokeball was in her hand.

The curly haired woman stepped into the referee box. “The gym battle between Alex, the challenger, and Viola, the Santalune Gym Leader will now begin. Each side will have the use of one Pokémon, and the battle will be over when either trainer’s Pokémon is unable to continue,” she announced.

“My lens is always focused on victory, and nothing will ruin this shot,” Viola warned Alex. “Go, Surskit!”

“I’m pretty focused on victory myself,” Alex retorted. “Riolu, come on out!”

“Battle begin!”

“Riolu, use Quick Attack!” Alex ordered.

“Surskit, use Protect!” Viola countered. As Riolu streaked toward it, a shield of green energy appeared, and the other Pokémon crashed into it.

“Now time to set the stage for a perfect shot! Surskit, Ice Beam,” Viola called.

Riolu tensed to dodge the attack as Surskit gathered energy above its head, but it didn’t fire it at him. Instead, it aimed at the framework of iron supports above them, and the energy refracted off of them, shooting in every direction. Trees, bushes, the wall and parts of the battlefield were beginning to be coated in ice. Riolu threw himself aside as one of the beams shot toward him, narrowly missing him. All too quickly, the entire field was frozen over.

As Riolu struggled to gain his footing on the glassy surface, Surskit slid back and forth gracefully. It’s the Pond Skater Pokémon, of course this would be ideal for it.

“Now this is a perfect shot,” Viola said framing the unsteady Riolu with her fingers. “Surskit use Signal Beam.”

“Riolu, dig in with your claws and get out of the way!” Alex yelled. Riolu’s claws came out. They weren’t very long, but they gave him just enough traction to launch himself out of the way as Signal Beam made contact with the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust and ice shards.

“Now close the distance and use Force Palm.” Riolu came charging out of the cloud, and his move sent Surskit skidding back on the icy battlefield.

“Not bad,” Viola grinned, “But we’re just getting started. Sticky Web!” Surskit sent webs flying every direction. Riolu tried to dodge, but one of them pinned him down. The already treacherous battlefield was now littered with immobilizing traps. “Now, Signal Beam one more time!”

Riolu was trapped and the move hit him full force. However, it also blew the web off of him. He regained his feet, web fibers trailing from his limbs.

“Riolu, are you alright?” Alex shouted. Riolu nodded. “Then move in to counter with Force Palm.”

“Fighting type moves aren’t very effective you know.” Viola reminded him. “Surskit, counter with Quick Attack.”

“Counter!” Alex called triumphantly. As Surskit came darting in for the attack, Riolu met it with an uppercut, hitting it with the strength of its own momentum and more. Surskit went tumbling back.

“That was excellent,” Viola acknowledged, “But it won’t happen again.”

Fine. The damage is already done.

“Quick Attack before it recovers,” Alex yelled to Riolu.

“Protect!” Once again, Riolu’s attack was stopped by the energy barrier.

“Break it down with Force Palm!” Riolu hammered against the shield repeatedly. It began to visibly weaken. Surskit shook with the strain.

“Get ready to use Signal Beam,” Viola called.

Then, Riolu came crashing through, his palm making contact. Surskit skidded back, but continued to charge its Signal Beam.

“Now!” Viola yelled. Surskit fired point blank.

“Endure!” Alex screamed. Riolu braced himself as the attack pushed him back, his claws leaving trenches in the ice in their wake.

“Quick Attack, 3 o’clock!” Alex ordered, as the attack subsided. Riolu dashed forward, curving his trajectory to attack from the side. His blow landed before Viola could call for a counter of any kind. Surskit flew back a foot or two and lay still, dazed from the impact.

“Surskit is unable to battle. Riolu wins, and the victory goes to Alex of Veilstone City!” the referee announced.

Alex had won, but just barely. Riolu was trembling from taking two direct Signal Beams. Alex recalled him. Viola approached him.

“That was an excellent battle, although I suppose this isn’t exactly your first Gym Battle,” she said.

Alex nodded. “That didn’t make it an easy battle.”

“Of course,” Viola said. “What kind of Gym Leader would I be if I didn’t challenge my challengers right back? Here,” she handed him the badge. It looked a little like a Heracross, but brown with green spots. “To prove your victory at the Santalune Gym.”

Alex thanked her. “Why do you battle with a camera?” he wondered aloud.

“I like to photograph people in crisis.” She grinned.

Alex hoped she was kidding. “Thank you again for the battle,” he said.

“It was my pleasure. If you’re looking to challenge another gym soon, I would recommend the gym in Cyllage City. It’s not too far from here. And good luck!” With that, the Gym Leader turned to go back through the door in the trees.

As Alex was putting his newly won badge in its place in his badge case, Kyara joined him from the stands. She was smiling brightly. “Congratulations on your first win!” she told him.

After stopping by the Pokémon Center for Riolu, Kyara and Alex went out for lunch at a little café. They sat outside on a flagged patio and ate sandwiches and chatted.

“So, what are you doing next?” Kyara asked, as she fed Azurill strawberries from her parfait. Riolu would never have let Alex do the same.

Alex took a moment to consider. “I don’t think I’m ready for the next gym yet. I think I’ll stay here for a bit and train.” He licked his lips nervously. “I wasn’t entirely sure I would win this battle, to be honest. It was really close. I just felt like I needed to gauge myself, figure out my level.” It wasn’t’ something he liked to admit—that he wasn’t confident in his abilities.

Kyara nodded like she understood. “You’ve had Riolu for a while, right? It’s not a bad idea to figure out how you measure up to the League standards. You seem like you’ve been battling for a while, too,” she paused, leaving the observation as a question.

“Well, I traveled around the Sinnoh region before I came here,” Alex admitted. She didn’t seem surprised. “I even entered the Sinnoh League, but I felt like I needed a fresh start.” He was leaving out a lot, so much that it felt like lying.  “What about you?” he asked, changing the subject, “What are you doing after this? You wanted to challenge the gym, or maybe there’s a performance coming up you need to prepare for?”

Kyara set down her spoon and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t know that I’m quite ready to challenge the gym yet, and the season for performers doesn’t start for a month or so, since the Master Class isn’t over yet. I’ll probably just train and practice.” She said it matter-of-factly and without enthusiasm. She almost seemed…discouraged.

Alex didn’t know how to respond. They had just met. He didn’t know her really, and yet her struggle seemed to touch him personally. She seemed lost. He at least had experience. She was starting from ground zero.

The sky had been clear all morning, but now storm clouds were rolling in, bringing with them the scent of rain. The wind was beginning to pick up, too. It caught the ends of Kyara’s long hair that hung loose around her shoulders. She had it half up, but the rest of it was free. The little curls that curved around her bronzed skin swayed in the breeze. As she looked over the fields of flowers and long waving grasses, the green of her eyes seemed more vibrant than before. He was staring, Alex realized, and looked away.

He cleared his throat. “Do you want to train with me?” he asked. His mouth was practically moving on its own, and his heart rate had quickened. “I can help you prepare for the gym, all of the gyms if you’d like. I don’t know, maybe you prefer travelling by yourself,” the words were practically tumbling out of his mouth before he could think about whether or not they ought to be said, “but it might be nice to travel together.” He sucked in a breath.

Kyara’s eyes were still locked on the horizon. “That’s very nice of you,” she said after a few moments where Alex felt his pulse pounding in his temple. “But, I don’t know…I’m not…I don’t think I can make a decision right now.” She looked at him. “All of a sudden, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Alex could relate. It was why he had come to Kalos in the first place, why he needed a new start. He needed to find out what he was doing—what he was doing wrong and what he needed to be doing, specifically. But he didn’t have any answers for her, because he was looking for those answers himself. They finished their meal in silence as the storm moved in.

They split up when they got back to the Pokémon Center. Kyara said she needed to call her mom, and Alex decided to do the same. He should at least tell her he made it to Kalos safely. She probably wasn’t too worried, but it was the polite thing to do all the same.

It began to pour during his call. That ruled out any outdoor training for the day. Alex considered meditating with Riolu or drilling some new attack formations, but Riolu seemed distracted. He seemed to be looking for something. Alex knew better than to ask. Riolu was an excellent battle partner but he wasn’t one to share what was going on with him. Not that they could properly talk anyways, but a little effort to communicate would have been nice.

Alex ended up watching old matches all afternoon. The Kalos League wouldn’t start for another month. He wouldn’t be able to enter it this year, but next year he would be ready. In the meantime, he could watch and learn.

When Nurse Joy began closing down the Center for the day and opened the cafeteria, Alex found Calem. He looked for Kyara as well, but she didn’t seem to have arrived for the meal yet. When half an hour had passed, Alex began to wonder if she had fallen asleep. He asked Nurse Joy which room she was in so he could check.

“Kyara? She left this afternoon,” Nurse Joy told him.

“Thank you,” Alex heard himself say as he sat down. She had left, without a word to either himself or Calem. Well, it wasn’t like she owed it to them. They had just met yesterday. It stung a little. He had asked if she wanted to travel together. She hadn’t even bothered to answer. Had he said something wrong, Alex wondered. His mouth had seemed to have a mind of its own at the time. He had never planned on asking her that.

The rain continued to pound away at the roof of the Pokémon Center. By the time Alex returned to his room after a mostly silent meal with Calem, it was still coming down in thick sheets. He lay down and stared at the bunk above him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something wrong.

As he shifted his head on the pillow, he heard something crinkle. Pulling back the blanket, he discovered a sheet of paper tucked underneath it.

“Alex,” it read,

“I’m sorry about this afternoon. I need to figure some things out. I hope to see you again soon and good luck with your gym battles.

Kyara”

It was just a few lines, printed in a neat handwriting that seemed so very like Kyara—simple, strong and elegant—but it made everything alright again. He had no idea where she was or when he would see her again, but Kyara wasn’t mad at him.

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

.

[galaxysharks]

I need to write these down or they will never get out of my head. Guys I found the bullet points.

Maddox&Jet headcanons:

General

Jet&Maddox are 1/2 siblings, Maddox is 11 months older.

Maddox's mother died during childbirth, and she's been raised by Jet's mom her whole life.

Their parents are very strict, partially in an effort to help their children with various struggles, but usually come off as cold because of it.

Lots of little rules/'traditions' at their house

Includes: Meal logs, curfews, designated practice times, no dating, top grades, ect.

Most of these are technically just for Maddox's benefit, but you know....siblings.

Not homophobic, but still does not approve of the kids dating.

Their parents are both accountants. (Mostly due to Maddox's tax season comment).

Stopped sending Jet to Shallow Lake to try and use other avenues to curb his behavior, they figured it would bring up too many memories of being pressured to play music.

Maddox kept going to maintain her routine and because she loves it.

Sent Jet this year to try to repair the relationship.

Maddox

Autistic

Special interests are basically anything set realated

Woodworking, tech set up, costumes, ect.

And CAMP.

Loves camp so much.

Her bed at home has a frame to turn it into her bottom bunk.

Jet uses the top bunk when company is over.

Has a blanket with the forest printed on it hung up on her wall.

Follows her parents regiment to the letter, partially because it never occurred to her to not, and also she recognizes that having a routine helps her in some ways.

She doesn't see a reason for Jet to have to do them too, but gets annoyed at his disregard of their parents.

As far as she's concerned, Jets mother is hers, she has no memory of her own and feels no particular way about her. To Maddox, it was the equivalent of an egg donar.

Gets asked by their parents to help contain Jet.

Gets frustrated because the whole 'Im older' argument stopped working once he realized it was by less than a year, making this a lot higher.

Used to attend various 'socializing exercises' but stopped once her parents saw that they made her outbursts worse and more frequent.

Destroys furniture when overwhelmed. Learned woodworking originally so she could replace things she broke.

Built her bedframe, desk, and a little clubhouse in their backyard.

Can cook several edible but bland foods. She learned this to feed the two of them when their parents are working late.

Does not usually like full-contact hugs. ( From Ej's side hug vs his hug with mutual old friend Val )

Is jealous of the attention their parents pay to Jet despite his lack of respect for their rules.

Is also slightly resentful that Jet can find friends anywhere, despite being sour and aloof, while she tries so hard to be nice and friendly and just says the wrong thing constantly.

Has technically been a 'councilor-in-training' for several years, but isn't old enough to be a full councilor yet.

Helps one of the local colleges teach woodshop classes in order to make pocket money.

Jet

Hates his parents rulebook for several reasons.

They're never home to really enforce them, but punish freely.

They rely on Maddox telling them when he doesn't follow them.

Their justification is that they're for Maddox, but most of them don't even help her, they just stress her out more.

Fluctuates between half-assing his and just not doing it.

He thinks their parents treat Maddox as somehow both older and younger than she is. Old enough to be responsible for his actions, but too young to regulate her own meals and relationships.

Hates that his parents have Maddie babysit him, because she's not really any better at existence than he is. He hates that they expect her to know how to do this.

He's the one that told their parents that the social exercises were making Maddie worse.

Learned piano on YouTube.

Has an almost virtuoso talent for music.

Spent the better part of several years going to various competitions before getting burnt out.

Maddie gave him the duck. She also sewed it's foot back on at least three times.

Still occasionally goes to her room when he can't sleep to steal the top bunk.

Is surprisingly personable when not being deliberately obtuse.

Hated Ej from a distance for a while because he can read between the lines of some random jock suddenly being nice to his sister once he sees she has keys to restricted areas.

Settled on neutral feelings once a couple years passed and Maddox kept hanging out with him without incident.

Acts out both to annoy their parents and to keep them occupied so they don't try to get Maddox to do things that would overwhelm her.

Maddox has an unfortunate tendency to say slightly rude things, he has a tendency to accidentally spill his sister's business to people.

Got expelled for changing one of Maddie's grades to passing so she could still go to camp.

All she knows is he broke into the records office, which is like ultimate disrespect for the rules.

Did not get charged because the principal was sympathetic to him, also because they knew what his parents were like.

[scattered-shadows]

The third and final story in the 100-Day trilogy, taking place four years after the events of The 100-Day Relationship and two years since the events of I Do. When the patriarch of the Choi family suffers a heart attack, the entire clan decides to visit the estate in the hopes of getting in his good graces and parts of his fortune before he passes. Seonghwa and Juhyun now find themselves clashing with nosy relatives who threaten to split them up and have her removed from any possible inheritance.

Inheritance Member: Seonghwa Pairing: Seonghwa/OC Genre: I’m going to say angst-fluff, drama, intrigue. Things to note: Art Curator!Hwa, a lot of crazy rich stuff again (for real, this will have A LOT), and perhaps some adult-y things. Watch out!: The usual pressure of kids, illness, familial drama ahead A/N: So, I’m so sorry the first chapter took so long. But what’s important is that I’ve finally posted after what seems like months of not writing much, so I hope this is a good enough first chapter. Tag list is open as usual. Oh, and I’ve also posted the Hwandred-Day trilogy on my Ao3 (yeojasamho).  Tag list: @kflixnet , @treasure-hwa ,     Masterlist

Chapter 1 

“Hello Architectural Digest, I’m Park Seonghwa, and this is my wife, Juhyun, and welcome to our home,” Seonghwa smiled as he and Juhyun stood aside to let a small crew of people inside, scanning their apartment. “We’ve only been living in this place for two years since we got married, and we got our friend, Shin Dongwoo, to take care of the interiors of this place as you can see,” Seonghwa showed them around. 

“When we sat down with him about decorating the place, we said we wanted a place that looks very cozy and relaxing. He referred us to Gwyneth Paltrow’s designer Brigette Romanek and she flew in for us and worked her magic, scouring the entire country to look for the furniture that really suited what we had in mind,” Juhyun explained, showing them the kitchen. “Seonghwa and I cook together sometimes. It’s one of the ways we spend time together, especially after work.” 

“We have a kind of dynamic when it comes to being at home. I’m the one who cleans, Juhyun is the one who cooks,” Seonghwa pointed out. 

“But there are times when we do both, mostly on weekends,” Juhyun added. “Seonghwa makes amazing kimchi jjigae and curry.” 

“Juhyun makes really good pasta,” Seonghwa smiled. “And roasted chicken. She cooks very well,” and Juhyun laughed. 

Seonghwa showed the crew the framed pictures that were hung on one part of the living space. It included their wedding photos and other framed photos of them and their friends. The big family photos took up the most space on the part of the wall where the other pictures were. 

“I picked out the kinds of frames that suited the pictures, but I also made sure the frames fit the mood of the house,” Seonghwa showed the pictures. “Hopefully more pictures will be up here.” 

He watched Juhyun take the camera crew into the different parts of their home. Seonghwa smiled to himself as he followed his wife along. His wife. The thought that he called her his wife made him smile even wider, and they had only been married for two years. 

Seonghwa couldn’t believe it at times, the fact that he was married to Juhyun, and the fact that since getting married, he found himself among the upper echelons of society, and not the echelon full of celebrities and influencers. This tier was a different kind of upper crust, yet being with Juhyun didn’t make it feel that way. 

Seonghwa wasn’t used to it, and he knew he might never be used to it, despite his grandmother already getting used to the prestige that now came with him marrying into the extremely wealthy Choi family. 

When the camera crew panned to the area of their home that had paintings, Seonghwa appeared in view. “I was recommended several local artists who did paintings of landscapes, mostly at night, and I got a print of my favorite painting, Nighthawks, because it reminded me of when we were dating, and how we’d stop by a cafe after every formal event before we went home,” He admitted, glancing at Juhyun, who smiled. 

By the time the room tour ended, and the crew thanked them before leaving, Juhyun closed the door, sighing in relief against it. “Now that’s done,” She said, before walking up to him. Juhyun noticed the clock. “We have to be at the airport now if we want to make it ahead of Hyunae and Jiho’s party,” She leaned on him. 

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. He sighed. “Is there a way for us to…not go? It’s a 14-hour flight to the US,” He said. 

“I know, but we promised them we’d go, remember? They want all of their friends to be there,” Juhyun sighed as well, holding onto him tightly. “On the bright side, we can sleep all we want at the house before the party. It’s just in the Hamptons, we’ve got a house there, and I’m sure the caretakers are looking for more things to do.” 

“Does your family have a house everywhere?” Seonghwa raised a brow. 

“My grandfather does, not me,” Juhyun pointed out. 

“That’s something someone who has a lot of houses would say,” He teased, backing them into the bedroom to get ready. “Jiho’s proposing to Hyunae, and Jinri and Dongwoo are having a gender reveal party for their second child, right?” He asked as they put their bags together. 

“Yeah, and they want everyone to be there. Even Hongjoong’s coming,” Juhyun pointed out. “We’re on the same flight as him too,” She added. 

Seonghwa nodded as he slipped on his jacket, helping Juhyun with hers as she tied her hair. “Are we getting the seats near the restroom? Or did we get the seats facing the big screen in the middle?” He asked. 

“Side seats, near the restrooms, don’t worry,” Juhyun assured him as she kissed his cheek. “One problem though. It’s first class.” 

Seonghwa laughed as he followed her out of the room, with their luggage in tow. “Really? Our seats are first class?” 

“Hey, they found out who I was and upgraded our seats for free. At least our economy seats would be for people who want to get on but couldn’t book a seat or could afford first class, I’m just saying,” Juhyun shook her head, amused by the encounter. “We’ll have some leg room so we can rest properly on the way to New York, hmm?” 

“Yes, yes, on the way to New York,” Seonghwa chuckled. “But then when we get to New York, we’re having some bedroom time before going to the parties!” 

~ 

It wasn’t as if Seonghwa was able to stay in all the properties that Juhyun’s family owned whenever they went overseas. He had only heard of how big or how grand the houses looked from Juhyun’s friends and their spouses and boyfriends, but he never really got to see anything else aside from her parents’ house. 

The house they stayed in also belonged to Juhyun’s parents, with another house belonging to her grandfather not far away in this part of the place. It was built in the same manner as every other estate Seonghwa saw on the way from the airport, but with a well-manicured garden and a three-car garage.

The house, as Seonghwa realized, also had the view of the ocean with the beach just past the yard. The interiors also seemed to match the place, a mix of neutral colors and sculpted marble floors. There was even a fireplace and above the mantel was an anniversary family picture of Choi Jongmin, his wife Dajeong, Juhyun, Jihyun, and Sangmin. Seonghwa smiled to himself, thinking that maybe one day, the two of them could have that kind of picture somewhere. 

“Thank you for coming here to give me the key, I nearly forgot to ask my father about it before we left,” Juhyun was telling a middle-aged couple whom her father tasked to be the caretakers. “Oh, and this is my husband, Park Seonghwa, Seonghwa, this is Serge and Jane West,” She introduced them. 

“Congratulations to both of you! It’s a good thing both of you managed to come here and stay, there’s only so much we could do to keep things spotless,” Jane chuckled, shaking Seonghwa’s hand. 

“Well, while we’re here, we’ll be sure to call you. How are things at my grandfather’s house by the way?” Juhyun asked. 

“It’s good as usual. Your aunt was staying there not too long ago,” Serge replied in a low voice. Juhyun immediately figured out which aunt it was from the way their expressions fell slightly. “Her and her husband.” 

“Oh…” Juhyun nodded. “It’s not too late to leave, you know,” She teased. 

They shook their heads, laughing. “No, no, your grandfather has been very good to us, as is your father, as is everyone else in your family really. It’s only just those few,” Serge said. 

Seonghwa glanced at his wife. “Who are they talking about?” He asked. 

“My aunt Seonak,” Juhyun sighed, frowning as she said it. 

“He’s your father’s sister, right?” Seonghwa asked, and she nodded. 

“It’s not just her, it’s my cousin and his wife too. It’s really only the three of them. If my grandmother was still alive, it would make four of them,” Juhyun said quietly. “Well, at least it’s just Aunt Seonak, and Daeyoung, and Hyemin…” 

“Wah…” They heard Hongjoong say as they saw him come in, his luggage in tow. He looked stunned. “You didn’t tell me how nice your house is!” 

“Yeah, you can stay in the guest room if you want,” Juhyun nodded, amused by his reaction. 

Hongjoong sighed. “I wish I could, but I already booked a room at a hotel.”

“Where are you booked, anyway?” Seonghwa raised a brow. 

“The Ritz. I got a suite,” Hongjoong replied. “But your house really is nice, Juhyun.” 

She shook her head. “It’s my parents’ house. But you can come stay here whenever you want whenever you fly to New York.” 

Hongjoong turned to his friend, who looked just as amused. “Maybe you should get a beach house back in Korea, I’m just saying,” He suggested, making Seonghwa laugh. “Saves us 14 hours and a whole other timezone.” 

“Well, we’d agree with you on that, but we’re all here because of other people. But it’s nice in this part of New York too,” Juhyun said, leaning against her husband. “We’re in front of a beach, a different beach. A beach that takes 14 hours to get to, but it’s worth it,” She laughed. 

Seonghwa kissed her forehead then turned to his best friend. “We’ll bring you to your hotel, we’ll just put our bags in our room.” 

Hongjoong nodded. Seonghwa turned to Juhyun, both of them carrying their bags up the stairs and into their room. They returned a moment later, taking the car keys from the corner, gesturing for him to lead the way out of the house and to the garage. “Allow me to drive you around,” Serge suggested, and Juhyun handed him the keys. “How long will you be staying?” He asked as they unlocked the doors of a gunmetal gray Rolls Royce Phantom. 

“Just a week, Hongjoong might be leaving earlier, though,” Seonghwa replied. 

“Yeah, I’m only here for a few days,” Hongjoong nodded as they got in the car, Jane following them and getting in the passenger seat to sit next to her husband. 

“Just a day less than how long we’ll be here, we’re not staying long either,” Seonghwa said as they fastened their seatbelts. 

Serge began to drive, and soon enough, they were in the city itself. Seonghwa looked at the view of all the buildings in awe. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been to New York before, but just going on a ride into the city always made him look at everything in amazement. Even more so that it was different now, as his museum was doing even better than before, and that he was married to someone who was likely going to fly all over the world ever so often. 

Juhyun smiled to herself after observing how Seonghwa looked out the window. “You think we should get a place here?” She asked quietly. 

Seonghwa nearly whipped to look at her at the question. “...What?” He asked. 

“Should we get a place here? Or do we just keep staying at the Hamptons?” Juhyun chuckled. 

He stared at his wife. “...Stop kidding, Juhyun,” He said, nudging her. 

Juhyun and Hongjoong laughed. “I’m just asking, Hwa. I wanted to know what you think,” She said. 

He shook his head. “There’s no place like home. Both our jobs are back in Korea,” He said. “You and I hardly go overseas anyway.” 

She nodded in understanding. “That’s true.” 

“I wouldn’t mind, though,” Hongjoong chimed in, and Seonghwa smacked the back of his head, the car pulling up in front of the hotel. “I’ll see you guys at the party later?” He said, getting out, thanking Serge for the ride while Jane helped him with his bags out of the trunk. 

Hongjoong waved at them as he pulled his luggage into the hotel, and Serge started to drive away. “Both of you seem to be so busy,” Jane looked over at them with a smile. “It doesn’t hurt to take some time off, no one would think less of you if you did, especially since you two work so hard.” 

“One of the secrets to a happy marriage,” Serge chimed in, grinning. 

~ 

Juhyun and Seonghwa were on their way to the restaurant where Jinri and Dongwoo were going to have the gender reveal party for their second child. The restaurant, as Seonghwa had guessed, was put up by a friend of Dongwoo’s, Gong Chansik, who flew between Korea and New York every now and then. The place wasn’t as kid friendly as it seemed, and the two of them figured that Jinri and Dongwoo left their daughter Kairi at their home, likely being babysat by the caretakers of their home. Jinri found out she was pregnant a month after Seonghwa and Juhyun got married. 

In the midst of the merriment as everyone exchanged stories and jokes, seeing another one of their friends; Ahn Jea, of the Ahn law firm, who was married to Michelin-star chef Jung Wooyoung, also revealing that she was a few weeks pregnant with their first child, it made Seonghwa and Juhyun think about their own marriage. Not only one, but two of their friends already had children or were expecting. Would they want the same thing? 

It was something they had yet to talk about, again at least. The first time Seonghwa and Juhyun talked about kids was after sex one night, when they nearly forgot to use protection. They both agreed that they weren’t in a hurry, but would it still be the same this time? While they liked being around kids, they weren’t so sure if they would be able to raise a family of their own. 

Ultimately, Seonghwa felt that it was Juhyun’s decision to make, as she would be the one carrying the child, not him. Seonghwa respected whatever decision she may make, even if it meant that they might disagree. He was already an uncle anyway and sort of a godfather to the kids of Juhyun’s friends. 

“Alright, alright!” Jinri stood up, a little bump already visible on her stomach. She was holding a glass of sparkling cider as the rest of them raised their glasses. Dongwoo held up an amber bottle that had a squeeze tip. “The syrup Dongwoo pours into my drink is the gender, hmm?” 

“Let’s see it then!” Jo, who came from the prominent Han family that was a major name in food processing, cheered. 

“Alright!” Dongwoo declared, tilting the bottle, and a vivid pink syrup filled the clear drink, making them clap. 

“It’s a girl! You have two daughters now, you’re going to be a girldad!” Jea laughed. 

“Fine by me, I hope that happens,” Dongwoo looked proud, and kissed his wife on the cheek. 

“I hope I get to be a girldad too,” Wooyoung nuzzled Jea’s cheek. “I’ll show my daughter how guys are supposed to love her.” 

“That’s awfully sweet of you,” Juhyun commented, and Wooyoung beamed. 

“Isn’t that something we’d all aspire to?” Choi Jongho, Jo’s longtime boyfriend and celebrity pet groomer, mused. 

“Of course,” Jo nudged him. 

“I think you’d all make good fathers, even you Seonghwa,” Jinri teased. 

Seonghwa just smiled, glancing at Juhyun, who suddenly sat up, and he suddenly sensed that she felt uncomfortable. He gently squeezed her arm, and she glanced at him. “Hmm?” She said. 

“You okay?” He whispered in her ear. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Juhyun nodded. She suddenly heard her phone beep. It was her sister Jihyun, calling her. She stood up. “I’ll just take this for a minute,” She rushed to one side of the room. 

Seonghwa watched her, wondering what the call was. It was the first time throughout this trip that someone called. Juhyun went out of the room and he got up as well, quietly stepping out. He had a bad feeling about it.

But before Seonghwa could go out, Juhyun came back in, her expression serious. “Who was that?” He asked. 

“Jihyun,” Juhyun said, a hint of sadness in her tone. “Grandfather had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital.” 

Seonghwa stared at her. “He’s in the hospital?” 

Juhyun nodded. “Yeah. I told her we’re in New York, she’s at the hospital now, with Bin. She put her wedding planning on hold for this.” 

“What about your parents?”

“They’re there too. My uncle Hyunwoo flew in from Japan to come to the hospital.” 

Seonghwa wasn’t sure what else to say, and he wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. He kissed the side of her head. “Do you want to fly back?” He managed to ask. 

Juhyun shook her head. “I don’t know. We won’t be there for hours,” Juhyun replied. “Even with a private jet.” 

“He’s your grandfather, Juhyun. I think they’ll appreciate the effort.” 

“I asked Jihyun about it, she said he might already be out before we get there. It’s okay,” Juhyun maintained, looking up at him. “It’s okay.” 

“So, what do you want to do now?” Seonghwa whispered. 

Juhyun pulled away. “Let’s just try and enjoy the time we have here. When we get back, we’ll visit,” She said.

Somehow, Seonghwa felt a sinking feeling inside him. Something didn’t feel right about the news Juhyun gave. Juhyun was still trying to process the news as well, and she wanted to get her mind off of the sudden turn of events. The most she could do was take a deep breath, and hope that things would be alright. 

Juhyun led Seonghwa back to the table, where everyone else was absorbed in their stories and cheers. They didn’t feel like souring the mood with what they found out. 

~ 

Juhyun and Seonghwa found themselves in the guest bedroom of Hyunae’s home later that night. They were lying down, eyes closed as everyone else was outside mixing and mingling with each other. Juhyun had gotten overwhelmed with the crowd and wanted to be in a quieter space. Seonghwa went with her, and the two of them were starting to doze off from how soft the bed was. 

“Seonghwa?” She whispered, and he replied with a hum. “Do you want to go out there? I don’t think Jiho’s proposed yet.” 

“No, I want to stay with you. I think I got a little overwhelmed too,” He said. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah,” He reached over to hold her hand. “If you want some space, you can tell me, you know that, right?” 

“I do.” 

Juhyun opened her eyes. “Don’t worry,” She said. “You’re worrying more than me.” 

Seonghwa chuckled. “You really know, huh?” 

“Yeah, I think I know you well enough to know when something’s bothering you. Even when we try to talk about it, I think I know,” She said. 

“Has this happened to him before?” 

“No,” Juhyun shook her head. “But I guess he’s been under a lot of stress lately.”

“That’s true,” Seonghwa nodded slightly and inched closer to her. “If my grandmother found out, she’d have bolted out of her home and went straight to the hospital. Both of them have gotten very close since we got married.” 

Juhyun smiled. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. She tells my parents about how they were catching up, like best friends who haven’t seen each other in a while.” 

“That’s great. She’s his best friend now, huh?” Juhyun laughed. 

Seonghwa nodded. “Yeah,” He kissed her softly, then sat up. “If you’re feeling better, we could join the others now. Before Jiho gets down on one knee,” He grinned. 

Juhyun laughed and sat up as well. “Yeah, yeah, we probably should before someone starts thinking we did it,” She got out of the bed and smoothed over her blouse and pants. Seonghwa checked his hair in the mirror, nodding when he felt his comma hair was still intact. 

The two of them quietly stepped out of the room, making their way into the pristine white living room where Jinri and Dongwoo were nearly dozing off as well, Jinri’s hand clasped on her phone, possibly in the hopes of being able to answer if the caretaker had any trouble. 

Jea and Wooyoung were coming from the kitchen upon seeing them. “A little bit crowded out there, huh?” Wooyoung grinned, tilting his head to the party taking place at the patio that was close to the beach. 

“Yeah, we nearly dozed off,” Juhyun nodded. 

They suddenly saw Jiho come inside, followed by Hyunae. “Was the party getting to be too much?” Seonghwa teased. 

“A little bit, but we wanted to come inside,” Hyunae smiled, taking out her compact to check her makeup, touching up her forehead with powder. 

Hongjoong quietly came in as well and Seonghwa sensed that he had something up his sleeve. 

Jiho scanned the room then turned to Hyunae. “I guess now’s as good a time as any,” He said, and he suddenly got down on one knee. 

Hyunae gaped, while the rest of them froze, as if immediately in anticipation. “Jiho-” She said. 

“Lee Hyunae, I loved you before, I still love you now, and I’m certain I’ll always love you,” Jiho looked into her eyes as he took out a black velvet box from his pocket and opened it in front of her, revealing a diamond ring. “Lee Hyunae, will you marry me?” 

Hyunae was welling up, and she nodded profusely. Jiho took out the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. The rest of them broke into applause and cheers, with Wooyoung waving a waiter over to get them glasses of champagne and cider. Hyunae and Jiho were hugging each other tightly. 

“This wasn’t just a party, we all came here for this, just so you know,” Wooyoung told her. “To Hyunae and Jiho!” He raised his glass. 

“To Hyunae and Jiho! Cheers!” They laughed, clapping and hugging the couple. 

[koqabear]

hit me with your killshot, baby (C.YJ)

Summary:

It was a small, quiet town you had decided to move into. One that you could help with any healing or magical needs. What you didn’t expect, however, was to face a demon too powerful for your own good. The worst part? Seems like he’s gotten attached.

Yeonjun x reader/ demon!yeonjun x witch!reader

Genre: fantasy, enemies to ?? thriller(?), angst if you squint me thinks

Word count: 3.0K

Warnings: general physical fighting/violence, mentions of scars, burns, bones breaking, knives, blood, fire, descriptions of pain (let me know if I should add anything!)

a/n: This might get another part if it gets a good response <3 Writing fantasy is rlly fun for me as well, I’m so glad that this is the story that got me out of my writers block lmao

comments and reblogs are always welcome and much appreciated, hope you guys enjoy! <3

Disclaimer!! Absolutely nothing about this story is accurate or real, anything and everything that mc the witch does is made up!

It was about three in the morning when you got the call.

“Hello?” You said, eyes squinted as you had just been woken up from your sleep. The line remained silent for a moment, leaving you to wonder if this was a scam caller. You spoke again, only to hear hasty footsteps becoming louder, presumably running towards the phone.

“Hello?!” The voice called out, the loud exclamation causing you to jolt awake. “Oh my god, oh my god!” Their exasperated voice rang through your line, and you stood to get properly dressed, already anticipating their request.

“Where do you live?” You asked sharply, grabbing the keys to your car and waiting for their answer. They stuttered out their address, the sounds of the rain coming into your ear. They were now outside.

“Please come quick, this spirit has been bothering me for weeks now, I could have sworn they were harmless-“ they cried into the phone, only to get cut off by your stern command.

“Leave your home. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

They agreed, their voice quiet and shaky, and you hung up, beginning to drive to your new task.

It was no secret your town had a problem with the supernatural. That was the whole reason you lived here.

‘The town witch’ was what they called you. You remember moving to this small town the moment you turned eighteen, the rumors of the paranormal town beckoning you to help. With potions and incantations by your side, you were the best damn thing this place had ever gotten. But that was six years ago, and you were young and naive. The scars and burns that riddled your body only served to prove your progress, marking your place in this town permanently.

You sighed, your grip on your steering wheel weak. You were, after all, the only help these people had. Late night calls like this were beginning to become much too common recently, leading you to wonder if something, or someone, new was beginning to pester this poor town.

You arrived at the house, the thunderstorm only helping to provide a stereotypical atmosphere for you to work in. You got out your car, pulling your coat tightly against your body, the wind around you strong enough to hinder your footsteps.

The two story home before you rattled in protest, the front door swinging open the moment you got close enough. You felt your heart begin to race, beginning to question if this was truly worth it. It seems that whatever had been pestering the homeowner was no small ghost. Walking inside, you were met with the dark and empty home, the hardwood floor beneath you creaking in protest as you carefully walked around, the house seemingly calming the moment you entered.

You breathed in slowly, attempting to steady your mind as you surveyed the house, recalling what the homeowner told you before hanging up. This had been going on for a while, but it seems that it only recently became too much for them. Whatever was in this home really liked the attention.

Before you were able to take another step forward, you were thrown off your feet, slamming into the wall to your left, the many picture frames and decorations falling before you with a loud crash. The door slammed shut, and you covered your head, bracing yourself as you felt the glass shards begin to be directed towards you.

It’s here, and it’s angry.

Just as the chaos around you finally dulled down, you were met with the sight of the trophy shelf in front of you beginning to shake, your eyes widening as you began to run. You muttered a quick incantation to help shield you, the dull sounds of impact that began to pound against your shield only serving to make you run faster.

The hallway in front of you suddenly seemed never-ending, it’s violet wallpaper becoming harder to see the more you ran. Was the house layout always like this? The hallway suddenly ended, leading you to an open room, quickly recognizing it as the living room. The lights suddenly flickered on, disturbing your concentration as you noticed a shadow walk past one of the doorways.

Seemingly knowing you perfectly, the spirit took this small wavering to throw a book in your direction, narrowly missing your face as you ducked to the side, only to get knocked to your knees as you felt a kick to your back, your disturbed concentration causing your spell to be broken.

You turned around in a haste, summoning your shield once more as you unsheathed the knife you had in your coat pockets.

“Show yourself!” You barked out, standing up as you surveyed the room. “I know you’re here.”

Silence.

The howling wind outside stopped, the flickering lights suddenly still at the sound of your voice. You gripped the handle of the knife harder, trying to not let the exhaustion seep into you. The lights began to slowly dim, a lit ember flickering in front of you, only to be followed by many more, swirling into a raging fire directly in front of you. You jumped back at the heat, the familiar sight making you frown in anticipation.

“You look tired,” the voice said, as smooth and elegant as you first remembered it, “Maybe I could fix that.”

Standing in front of you was no other than Yeonjun. Clad in black, his dark eyes stared into yours as he towered over you, his platform boots shining underneath the dull lights, his hair slicked back and pushed away from his face save for a few strands that hung to frame his face.

“Yeonjun.” You said, a feeling of anger stirring inside you the longer you stared at him

“It’s so nice to hear my name come from you again,” he sighed, taking a step toward you, only for you to step back in retaliation.

Yeonjun was none other than the first demon you tried to expel when you first came here. You had fought with every single potion and spell you spent years perfecting, only to leave hospitalized and unsure that he would return. However, as the years passed and no sign of him appeared, you had assumed that you had succeeded in your battle against him, any signs of hauntings or poltergeists disappearing after that day.

“You,” you snapped, everything finally piecing everything together. “You’re behind everything that’s been happening recently, aren’t you?” You took another step back as he began to laugh, throwing his head back as if you had just told him the funniest thing in the world. Slowly, he calmed himself down, his eyes playful as he took his sweet time responding to you.

“Maybe, why?” He said, beginning to walk towards you slowly. You held your ground, concentrating on keeping your shield steady, they grip on your knife tightening. He stopped centimeters away from it, the aura of the shield humming as his clothes grazed the perimeter, shocks emitting on impact.

“I missed you, you know,” He muttered, head leaning towards you teasingly as he stood just far enough to not be blasted away from your shield. “It wasn’t fun hopping from town to town, trying to mess with other witches that resided there. They were just too…”

“Weak.”

You were barely given a moment before the sight of Yeonjun’s bright eyes filled your vision, the feeling of a scorching heat overtaking your senses.

Yeonjun had trapped you in a ring of fire.

A pretty small one, too.

Slightly panicked, you looked around for any place you could escape, the memories of the last time you got so close to Yeonjun warning you to get as far from him as you could, only to find that it was just you and him, trapped in a space that wouldn’t even allow you to shift backwards.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice taunting as he waited for your next move, “Claustrophobic?”

The weapon in your hand began to heat up, your mind working its hardest to form a plan that would work and let you come out alive. You already knew what this fire around you would do; It wasn’t a simple flame, and the scar on your chest that throbbed painfully in this demonic presence was enough proof of that.

The moment you had healed from your first encounter with Yeonjun, you had put all of the knowledge you had acquired from experience and older, more experienced witches into putting a weapon that would help you with violent demonic problems like him. It had taken you weeks of pure isolation and meditation to engrave the correct energy into the weapon, afraid to make any mistake that could lead to something drastic. By the time you were finished putting the last few touches on the weapon, (a protective incation; the words engraving themselves in fine print letter by letter as you poured the last of your energy into it,) you could barely stand, landing yourself at the house of a medic that specialized with witches.

“You’re lucky that you managed to come out of this with just drained energy,” He had told you one day, standing next to your cot and handing you a homemade medicine; its taste was horrendous, but it did the job.

“I’ve dealt with witches, succeeding or not, that had come out in a much worse condition. You’re very powerful, that much I can tell.” He confessed, his face sobering as he remembered why it was that you were there, “Whatever it is that you’re dealing with, I wish you luck.”

And now here you stand, the results of all your hard work and patience vibrating the more you concentrate on defeating the demon in front of you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and hurt me with that,” Yeonjun laughed, watching the way your grip tightened the moment he landed his eyes on it, your knuckles turning white with the force, “You know your little knife can’t hurt me, right?”

While it was true that regular knives were nothing more but toys to him, you knew that what you were holding was not a regular knife.

But he didn’t.

You remained silent as you stared at him, quirking a brow to silently challenge him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your demeanor.

“Giving me the silent treatment now?” He said, pausing for a moment before looking back at you, “Fine. You think you can hurt me with that little kitchen knife?” With a single movement of his hands, the fire dwindled, going down until it was no more,

“Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

You suppressed a smile.

Yeonjun was a lot of things. Strong, powerful, smart, hell, he was a bit attractive too.

But above all, he was cocky.

Slowly, and as subtly as you could, you adjusted your stance, your eyes never leaving his, ready to let your shield down to attack him.

“No games?”

His lips quirked up, his hands coming up to his sides to show you his full vulnerability.

“Fair and square. Here, I’ll even let you make the first move.” His pitch black eyes twinkled with his signature playfulness, his thoughts displaying to you loud and clear;

I thought you were smarter than this.

You fought the urge to scoff, and instead surveyed him for a moment, stepping back to give yourself a bit more room. He watched intently, his body language open and relaxed, clearly not threatened by you.

You lunged forward.

Before Yeonjun could move away, you swung your knife towards him, your stomach sinking as you missed your target, his neck, and sliced at his face instead. His head turned to the side, a hiss emitting from him as he turned back to you, the slash on his cheek burning into his skin, going deeper into his face as he began to bleed.

Except that wasn’t blood that came out of his face.

A thin liquid, pure black and mixed with the poison of your blade, trickled down his face. Slowly, he brought up a hand to his cheek, touching tentatively at his wound, observing the black substance that poured out of him, before turning back to you.

“Come on, you little vixen,” he groaned, the nickname that he called you from your first meeting rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Not the face!”

Cocky bastard.

But now that your first move was over, Yeonjun took a minute to crack his neck, the black liquid trailing down to his neck as he slowly rolled his head back, pausing for a second before straightening up, smiling at you sweetly.

“My turn.”

Right as you were going to activate your shield once more, Yeonjun ran to you, landing a solid punch to your stomach, sending you flying to the wall behind you, the wind being knocked out of you on impact as you crumbled to the floor. Looking up, you saw him lunge at you once more, mumbling your incantation for your shield, successfully knocking him back at the last second. Tumbling backward, Yeonjun layed on the floor as you slowly got back up, using the wall behind you as support, the wild and unhinged sound of Yeonjun’s laugh echoing off the walls.

“Oh, my little vixen,” he began, sitting up as he watched you regain your composure. “I missed this. I must admit, you have gotten stronger.” Standing back up slowly, you felt the room slowly heat up. You shifted, knowing what it was that he was about to do next.

“It’s exciting.”

Running towards him, you did your best to avoid the trail of fire that was now after you, ready to swing your knife at him as you got closer. Just as you were close enough to him, you swung towards his neck once more, the predictable movement allowing Yeonjun to step aside, only to get a kick to his chest, successfully knocking him down and allowing you to dive down, the fire that was about to pierce the center of your back flying instead to the wall in front of you, the loud boom barely covering Yeonjun’s scream as you dug your knife into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

You towered over him, straddling his waist and putting as much weight as you could to keep him down. His hands immediately reached up to clasp over yours, attempting to pull the weapon out, only to have you retaliate by digging it into his skin more, his cursing filling up your ears as he struggled against you.

Your jaw clenched and you felt yourself begin to sweat, the same ring of fire from before beginning to enclose around you slowly with no signs of stopping. Your hands began to burn underneath Yeonjun’s touch, obviously his doing as he seemed to concentrate on attempting to scare you off with the same fire that landed you on the brink of death from your first encounter.

But you refused.

You refused to allow the demon to live any longer, to continue to terrorize innocent and defenseless people in your town, or in this world at all. And now that you had him under your grip, your hands struggling to successfully behead him, you weren’t going to let a little bit of pain scare you away.

Your hands began to numb under the heat of his skin, popping noises emitting from under his iron grip. He was attempting to break your hands, to render them useless, but with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pushed on, biting back your own groans of pain and trying to concentrate on your current task, and nothing else.

“Come on my vixen, give it up,” he said, his voice laced with pain and false confidence that he attempted to use in order to make you believe that he remained unaffected. But as your knife inched towards his neck, piercing through his skin and emitting a loud sizzling sound, you knew that it was all a bluff by the way he winced, a low grunt of pain escaping him.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, you know,” he confessed, the ring of fire snapping angrily at your legs, the heat making you want to faint from overexertion. But you continued to push on, much to Yeonjun’s annoyance. “Fine, you asked for it.”

He screwed his eyes shut, the ring of fire slightly calming down, along with his iron grip on your hands. Just as you were about to take this chance and behead him, you felt something coming.

You turned around.

A ball of pitch black fire, resembling a pure void, flew towards you.

It all happened so fast. Throwing you off of him, Yeonjun staggered away from you, watching silently as the void of black washed over you, your screams of agony causing him to look away, the slightest bit of pity washing over him.

This was it, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t move as this void of fire washed over you, a feeling as though every bone in your body was being broken and you were being turned inside out coarsed through your system, your screams ripping through your throat, the wish for death appearing in your heart.

But right as you felt as though you were going to black out, it stopped.

And Yeonjun stood over you.

He watched as you lay there, completely paralyzed with pain. It took a bit before you began to breathe again, your chest barely rising, the air flowing into you causing you pain. Slowly, you opened your eyes, Yeonjun’s face inches from yours, the dark liquid from his wounds dripping onto you.

“I almost feel sorry,” he whispered, his lips grazing yours. You tried to hold on, to finish your job, but the very effort of having to breathe exhausted you beyond belief. Slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss more of a half hearted apology as he lingered there for a second, his lips still against yours. His mind reeled at the feeling, and he pulled away, a soft smile on his face as he slowly brought his hand down, hesitating before caressing your exhausted face slowly, spreading his own blood on your face.

He grinned.

“I look forward to our next battle.”

And he was gone.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you collapsed.