#y'all something's up and i don't know what it is

[hwajin]

☆°. — aphrodite ; hhj

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 4.4k

warnings/ content: established relationship, hyunjin is very needy and obsessive, body worship (feet stuff..... hear me out y'all), oral (f receiving), SLIGHT foot job HEAR ME OUT Y'ALL, also not edited because i'm lazy

author's note: okay. you all need to hear me out because i didn't know this fic woul dabble into unknown territory but trust me it's NOT a feet kink kinda fic it's a body worship fic!!!! don't let the mention of feet stop you from this fic pls i swear it makes sense with hyunjin ( @astraystayyh can confirm i converted her). also this fic is inspired by so many different things i can't name them all, but one of them is this song.

Your body registered the deep grunt before your brain properly did; you tensed, the hairs on your skin standing straight, your core tingling with delight. You gave the man in your bed a curious look, one eyebrow raised; and you almost sighed out in response. Hyunjin was in nothing but boxers, your blanket – long smelling of him, or a mixture of you and him, or sex and him – lazily draped over his lean body, not necessarily to cover him but just because it was there. And it was barely covering him, in the first place; revealing his entire upper body and one leg which he couldn’t hold still, digging it into your mattress, or stretching. His shaved head was buried in your pillows – also holding his scent, reminding you of the times you pulled it close to your body and breathed it in whenever he couldn’t stay overnight – and he looked tortured, somehow. Laying on his side but writhing, half of his face hidden in the pillowcase before he sighed out hopelessly, and threw himself on his back. His body tensed with the movement, abdomen clenching and revealing muscle, shoulders protruding, the skin there stretching thinly, and it gave you the godliest sight. And then he looked at you. Finally. Deep eyes locking with yours, reading you, pleading you, begging you for something yet unspoken. But you could tell he was; his telltale puppy eyes, his blown out pupils, his quivering lip. His scrunched, full brows. Not only could you look at him forever, you also knew he wanted something. Something from you.  

You cocked your head, stopped in your work – assignments you needed to complete, deadlines you had to meet, and Hyunjin had complained about it plenty when you had left the bed to sit at your desk. His hand had not let go of you until the very last moment, tracing your curves while you had stood up and put on a shirt of his, having been thrown to the floor mindlessly last night, or earlier that day, you weren’t quite sure. Time was hardly ever separable with him, minutes becoming hours becoming days, and nights, and you never knew when one ended and the other began. Hyunjin’s fingers had caressed your body up until the very point you’d been unreachable to him, and you had felt his touch linger on your skin, hot and scorching, when you sat before your laptop. You had also heard his moans and grunts of protest, but you had done your best to tease at him; despite everything in your body screaming to just slide back into his arms, warm and long and inviting, steady. 

And your body was screaming now, too. He looked so adoring, so comfortable. He looked so desperate looking at you, chest heaving with his breathing, as if to tempt you on purpose, as if to navigate your attention towards it. To the smooth skin of his body, his prominent collarbones scattered with love bites, his hardened nipples. It wasn’t cold in the room. 

You caught his face again. If he’d noticed you staring he didn’t let you know, and you broke under his gaze, eventually. 

“What’s up babe.” The tone of you voice didn’t ask a question, and you chuckled when he groaned again and let his hand drag over his face. Utterly tortured. So dramatic. You rolled your eyes with a smile even though he couldn’t see, too busy being tragic. He huffed out, looked at you again. 

Suddenly shy; you thought you caught him blush. 

“This song makes me so horny.”, he muffled into the pillow, turning in your bed again, stomach now hidden, exposing his back instead. He had barely spoken the words when you started laughing, brightly. You registered the song playing on your speakers, one on your joined playlist, the deep bass and sensual melody filling the room, the echoes and lazy voices setting a nice mood if combined with the vanilla scented candles you had lit, the dim lights you had turned on. The sunset you had opened the blinds for. You laughed because it was absurd. Because Hyunjin looking so pained, so desperate and tense because of a song was amusing; but it made sense. 

Of course he would get horny over a song. Of course he would remember how you had stood between his legs just hours prior while he sat on the closed toilet seat, only a towel wrapped around his waist while this very song was playing from your phone. Of course he would remember how you had dried your hair right in front of him, chest inches away from his face, how he had tried to continue the oh so innocent conversation you had started, adamant to look into your eyes, to look up, to not let himself get distracted, how he had grown weak and started kissing your breasts, instead, eventually. As if he’d been bound to. With the song setting the mood hours prior too, how he had started letting his fingers dance upon your outer thighs before finding your core, asking for permission with big, dark eyes. It made sense that he would remember how you had sighed his name when the tongue of his had found your nipple, when his free hand started softly caressing your sides, your waist, your hips, cupping your chest, licking you, kissing you, fingering you so softly only minutes after you’d had made love in the shower. And in bed before that. And on the couch in your living room before that. 

Of course Hyunjin would remember how the song had played every time your lips clashed together, when his hands found your mounds, intertwined with your fingers, when your scent, your taste met his mouth; he was your hopeless romantic, after all, always caught on the mundane, fixated on the very nihil and it always meant the world to him. A song. Of course a song would mean the world to him; if only it reminded him of you. 

But still you laughed. Teased him. Because sometimes you liked to, and sometimes you just couldn’t let him distract you, as much as you would want him to. You watched his writhing figure, but couldn’t for too long; the muscles in his back spasmed with every bass in the song, and his arms tensed when he let them disappear beneath the pillow, hugging it. Something about it was sinful, suggestive. You imagined your own body there, between his arms, in place of the pillow, how his face would lay on your stomach, how his hot breath would fan over your skin, how good he would make you- 

“Don’t laugh at me.”, he whined. He hadn’t seen you stare. Thankfully. He would have been the one teasing long already, and you converted your eyes back to your laptop. Deep breaths. Taking deep. Deep. Breaths. 

“It is kinda funny, you have to admit.”, you breathed, huffing amusement past your nose. If you weren’t looking at him, teasing was far easier. And then he groaned again, deep, a little raspy, and it reminded you that, no, it was never easier with him. Your ears were as much slave to his eros as your eyes were, his voice as tantalising as his body was. He tsked, and you heard him ruffle again. “It’s not… fuck…”, he sighed, and a magnet pulled your eyes towards him. His own ones were buried in his elbow, as though hiding his face from you would make him less embarrassed, or less horny, or gave you less a reason to laugh at him. His brows scrunched, and he hummed before his body moved. Before his hips rolled a little into the mattress, into your mattress; at least that’s what you think they were doing. You couldn’t tell for sure under the thick blanket, but you knew him enough to guess. You knew the patterns of his muscles enough to recognize it, and you almost copied him, almost rubbed yourself against nothing, onto thin air. Another hum, and he moved to turn around again. 

“I’m so hard.” This time he said it with a self-deprecating laugh himself, hiding his face in his hand, and you wanted to lick it, each of his fingers, reminded of how he had pushed two of them past your lips under the shower. How he had looked at you while doing so. How he had fucked your mouth with them, slowly, making you gag on digits so long with eyes so hooded and dark that you had come moments later. You were sure the chair beneath you was wet now. Your panties sure as hell were. 

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes. Fuck. Hyunjin turned to his side, to face you, to be closer to you; his face contorted in pain or pleasure then, you couldn’t decipher, but it had the same effect on you anyways. One arm of his reached out, falling over the edge of the mattress. Calling you silently. Tempting you. 

“Please, babe. Come back to bed.”

You considered it. Your work wasn’t even half-way done and it was calling you, your laptop screaming your name loudly, but Hyunjin was screaming it louder. With his eyes, with his body. With his fingers that reached you, fanning over your shivering leg. Lulling you, intoxicating you. 

You considered it, but you only smiled at your lover. “I have to finish this, love.” You weren’t lying. But you wanted him at the very edge. Not normally the one to behave the way you did this moment, but you enjoyed it. You enjoyed the whine which tore through Hyunjin’s throat, frustrated and dissatisfied. As if you were all the salvation in the world. As if you were the only one capable of releasing him from the depths of hell. 

“Please. It hurts.” 

His words were but a whisper, pout written over his features, lips so plump and pink and you thought you heard him downright pant. Maybe he was at the very edge already, had been for longer you initially believed. 

You chuckled, feigning coyness, pretended to understand whatever the hell you had written on your Word Document when you looked at it again. The words were a blur, the meaning more so; you only felt Hyunjin’s fingers on your leg, pleading. 

“I have to finish this, babe. You can… relieve yourself. Can’t you?” Giving him a bashful look over the shoulder, and it was Hyunjin’s turn to laugh now. A deep laugh, not so much amused as surprised. He turned to lay on his back again; when you glinted over at his body, you believed to see the faint outline of his erection when the blanket betrayed him. He let his palm smooth over his body, over his stomach down to his abdomen, looking sultry while doing so, his body tensing due to his very own ministrations. He knew you were looking at him; and you really, really shouldn’t have. Because there was no way you would finish your work now.

“Oh yeah? You would like that, wouldn’t you? If I touched myself?”

As if to emphasize his words he let his hand wander further down, palming himself over his boxers. You could only half see, the blanket covering him mostly, but you saw enough. You saw his veiny hands on his sex, alluring, calling you when he gave himself a squeeze which tickled a moan out of him. You hummed in response; neither affirmative nor negative, and you heard Hyunjin turn around in your sheets again when you discarded your eyes from him completely. Felt his fingers on your calf again. Felt his hand – warm, slightly sweaty, trembling – close around your ankle then, suddenly, catching you off guard. He turned you around in your working chair and pulled you closer by your leg, and you giggled when you faced him, his face by your feet you rested on the edge of the bed, hand still enclosing your ankle. 

Something deep, something in the pit of your stomach fluttered when you watched Hyunjin look up at you. When you noticed how his touch felt on your skin. How it ignited you. How it weakened you. A gasp turned to a breathless chuckle when Hyunjin’s lips connected to the foot he yet held in his palm. One kiss atop it and his hand slid slightly upwards, up your calf, up where he knew you were sensitive. Always along the inner side, with fingers delicate, with touches featherlight because he knew you liked the way it tickled. He caressed your foot with his lips, giving it wet kisses. Along every inch and he loved the way you tensed beneath his touch. He loved to watch your brows furrow when he gave your toe a kitten lick before kissing it, lavishing, bathing in the feeling of you. In the intimacy you provided. In the fact that you allowed him to love you like this, so openly, so desperately. 

So obsessively. Hyunjin would say that a lot; that he was obsessed with you. Obsessed with everything about you. In between kisses he would whisper it into your ear, or mumble it into your neck before biting down at the skin there, or sighing it into your pussy when he couldn’t seem to disconnect from it for hours. You would hear it so often, and yet you never grew used to it. Initially, you failed to understand just how obsessed your lover was with you; because the first time he had kissed your foot – his hard erection had been deep inside you and one leg of yours had lay atop his shoulder so he could reach even deeper, and he had pecked it, mindlessly, as though a bodily instinct, a biological reaction – you had flinched, drew back your leg in surprise. He had apologized, you had reassured him. Had confronted him later, though; because you had been perplexed. 

“No.”, he had said, “it’s not a… fetish. I just love you. I don’t know.”, upon your question why he hadn’t told you sooner if this was something he liked. 

“I like that, though.”, he had breathed when you had looked embarrassed, that part of your surprise had been the sheer fact that you hadn’t prepared for it. That your feet had been calloused, wearing long weeks of work. Your nails had been cut carelessly, they hadn’t been painted. “I would have, like, gotten a pedicure, if you told me you were into that.” Hyunjin had shook his head, almost frantically. “I love the way they are right now. They’re… natural. They show how hard you work. That you, like… walk on this earth. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

Not a fetish, you had realized then; adoration. He carried a deep adoration for your body. For every part of it. And ever since then you had understood his obsession a little better. 

So you let him kiss your feet now. Because he did so eagerly. Humming against your skin, lost in you as if kissing you, tickling you, licking and lapping you up was bringing him pleasure beyond human comprehension. And you could only watch, mesmerized. Baffled. That a man so beautiful loved you. That a man so perfect obsessed over you. That he now looked up at you, deer eyes beneath deep lashes, and he was breathless, panting. 

“Let me taste your pussy, please.” 

You hissed at his voice, at his hot breath against your ankle, at his brows which formed a line from how much he was frowning in frustration. You hissed from the implication of his words; no, not the implication. He wasn’t implying anything; he was downright begging. Shamelessly. Openly. For something so vulnerable, something which was so intimately, so carnally a part of you. He was begging for the most carnal part, and he was doing it so helplessly. So prettily. You thought he had never looked more beautiful than this. Than when he was loving you.

You nodded with heaving chest, spread your legs on the chair, shuffled forward a little; Hyunjin didn’t even bother with your underwear. He pulled your panties to the side, quickly, as though you were granting him a wish he would have never expected to come true, jaw hanging slack with anticipation, eyes blown out a deep black. He lapped you up. He didn’t wait for another word, didn’t waste another second. You gasped when you felt his mouth on your soaked warmth, now even warmer, now that he was breathing against you. Breathing deeply, breathing hotly. Whispering a low, throaty “Fuuck.” right into your pussy which muffled most of his noises, which absorbed all of them and made it her own. Which fluttered when he licked at your clit, mouth open so widely as though he couldn’t get enough of you. As though he would never taste you enough, never stuff himself enough with you, never be close enough to you. Mouth open so widely as though he wanted to inhale you whole, not only your sex, your clit, your wetness. You. To make you part of him, to make you connected to him through some sort of outer force.

It was when he kissed up and down your lips that you lost your heart a little. It was then when you noticed he was lost in his own pleasure. That he was kissing you because he wanted to kiss you. Not because he knew you liked it. Not solely. That he was making out with your pussy, mouth latching onto your labia, wandering up to the hood over your clit and down the puffy skin again to kiss near your slit because he was losing himself in you. Because he wasn’t even looking at you. Hyunjin’s eyes were closed, shut so tight the skin between his brows was wrinkled, his jaw trembling. His breath shaking against you. His deep grunts resonating somewhere deep inside your core. Depths only he ever reached. Only he was capable to.

When you moaned his name, called it out desperately and let it materialize in the room, letting it take space in the relative silence, he finally looked at you. Finally granted you his entire attention. Finally blessed you with the sight of him; eyes bloodshot, hooded, almost sleepy. Almost as if he had awoken from a trance. Hyunjin hummed in response, knowingly. Breathed you in deeper, licked a heavy stripe from your slit up. That was for you now. Now he was pushing your buttons, pushing them so knowingly, so aware it made you dizzy. He knew you, he chased your high with you.

His hand – big, warm, steady – pushed against your inner thigh, gently but you complied. You spread your legs further, granted Hyunjin more space. More space to make you feel good, more space to show love. He sucked at your clit, watching as you threw your head back. Smiling to no one but himself because he had expected it. Your legs twitched, your muscles spasming against your will, but you let them. Your right leg resting on the mattress lazily and Hyunjin played with it. Letting his fingers slide up and down your calf, always on the inner side, until he tickled at the underside of your knee, until you whined out and he knew to wander down with his fingers again. He caressed your ankle then. Scratching your skin with his nails, a little, slightly. Not enough to hurt, only to elicit wanted reaction; a hiss, a breath caught in your throat.

You hadn’t paid attention, so you didn’t know when exactly your foot touched Hyunjin’s erection, accidentally. You must have spread your legs just a little further – it was never enough, the pleasure he granted you intoxicating and you chased it with every nerve in your body, with everything you had in you – and you had only heard the heart-ripping moan from the man. So loud it scared you at first, before you understood, before you looked down at him, at his erection, at him again. Down his body, down his toned chest and tensed abdomen and at his erection again; you were able to see the wet patch on his boxers. The desperation in his eyes when you locked them again. He had put his own pleasure to the side for your own; and if he hadn’t lied to you about the pain, then he had been hurting for quite a while. Looking at you to just ease him off the pain. Any way you wanted to, any way possible, he didn’t care. As long as you eased him off it, as long as you freed him from the torment.

It was awkward, but you tried to get past his waistband with your toe. It must have tickled more than it did anything else because you caught Hyunjin’s skin shiver, the toned lines on his stomach protruding suddenly as the muscles there tightened. But he understood. Without breaking his lips off you, without even looking away from you – hungry eyes still following your every move, every expression in your face – he freed himself quickly with one hand, and your mouth filled with water you could barely keep behind your lips. You moaned out, too; simply at the sight of him, because he had shoved away his boxers so carelessly, because he was showing himself to you so readily, for you to take him with all you had. Even if it was pathetic. Even if he seemed desperate. Even if his precum was dripping down in thick beads onto your mattress, looking like a pearl necklace was adorning him. Hyunjin rolled his hips into nothing, searching for your touch when he saw the look in your eyes. The hunger there. When he saw how you bit your lip, how you cursed out.

“You’re not hard babe; you’re basically cumming.”

And Hyunjin hummed into your pussy, eyes closing, making him see stars, more even when you touched him. Delicate foot on his tip, and you didn’t even need to move; the man started chasing his high momentarily. He was so eager, grinding against the little contact of skin you granted him, but it was enough. And you knew he wouldn’t last long. His fingers dug into your thigh, his other feeling you up, feeling you everywhere, reaching to cup your breast above your shirt, higher up then when the lack of your skin disturbed him, when he found home on your neck, closed his palm around it softly.

You let your hand slide across his short hair, nails on his scalp at his touches. There wasn’t much to pull on anymore; Hyunjin had admitted that he missed the feeling, that the only downside to his new hairstyle was the fact you couldn’t tug at it anymore. He had admitted that he missed the pressure, the sting of pain. He had mumbled it into your neck while he’d been deep inside you, the very first day after he’d shaved it, after you’d confessed how good he looked. You had pulled him closer back then, had arched your back to connect your chest with his; Hyunjin had whined when your nails had dug into the sensitive skin of his scalp, and had kissed you feverishly after.

And he was now whining without control, too. Whining at the sting of pain, whining because he was so, so close, rolling and rolling himself against you, quick and quicker and with a body so tense, so shivering, so trembling. He was whining because he couldn’t get enough of your taste, of your scent, because as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Because he felt so, so good. But he wanted to watch you. He wanted to see your mouth while it breathed his name, while it fell slack before a scream ripped through it. Wanted to see how you threw your head back, how your body convulsed against him, back arching, thighs closing, your free hand finding the one he had on your throat. Because you needed something to hold on to. Because he knew you were so, so close. He felt you shake, your legs quiver, he heard his name out of your mouth a couple notes higher, a little breathier, a little more carnal. He loved it when you said his name like that. He loved how it sounded in your mouth, sensual, pleading. Sweet.

And he came. Without much warning, but with spasms, because he just couldn’t take it anymore. Not with how mindlessly your foot lay on his now softening cock, with how hard you were groping at him; not just his head, everywhere. How much closer you seemed to need him. He couldn’t help it with how you smelled, sweeter now that you were close and wetter, oh so wet, drowning his chin in your essence, and he didn’t bother to clean himself up. He let himself be wet; let his own release stick to his abdomen, let it trickle down to his hips, let his chin be wet with you, wettened it even more by pushing himself deeper into you, nose wet too now, lips long soaked, mouth so full of you he grunted deeply, lapped you up, sucked your clit; and he felt you cumming, too.

And he finally looked up at you, needed to see you. And the sight was heavenly, wishing he could look at you forever. When you were like this. When you moved like this. When you felt this good; felt this good because of him. Because of his mouth which drank you up, cleaned you, inhaled you. Your eyes in the back of your head, your face contracting, your jaw tightening so hard that it shivered, that your lips quivered with it. You were flush, your hair all over you; knowing you, Hyunjin was sure you wouldn’t like the sight of yourself, wouldn’t understand why he grew hard again simply watching you. Why his breath caught in his throat when you looked at him, lashes damp, lip spit-laced, and whispering your name because it was “Too much.”. Just because Hyunjin could never stop when he started. Because he never got enough of your taste, long after you finished. Because he always drove you over the edge a second, a third time, only until his jaw pained him, when his lips went numb. When his heart filled with you so much he swore he couldn’t take it; and yet swore greedily, swore selfishly, that it would never be enough. 

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @ppiri-bahng @cherrrywon @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @junebug032 @noellllslut @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[enhaeil]

BLOOM! ☆ 엔하이픈

"everything you do, how you call my name sunday afternoon, come and make it rain. let the flowers bloom, ease my pain. always tell the truth, can you answer me?"

bloom - aqyila

lovesick boyfriend! enhypen ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

c/w: suggestive parts in everyone's but niki's. otherwise fluff

heeseung

boyfriend heeseung, who loves that he can be boring and nerdy with you. you guys can just sit there in silence or cuddle while he plays video games and not say anything. he doesn't always have to try to tell a joke or be interesting. he can be his full, authentic self. + you let him talk about his buzz lightyear toys, so he wins.

boyfriend heeseung who is actually obsessed with you, and everything about you. your smile, your laugh, your scent, your body, you name it. he never misses a day of telling you how in love he is with you.

boyfriend heeseung, who is shameless when you turn him on. his hands will be everywhere but where they're supposed to be. he has no problem pressing up against you or whispering filth in your ear. you know what hell yea

jay

boyfriend jay, who is the biggest gentleman. he always walks closest to the sidewalk. he always holds the door and pulls out your chair. he buckles your heels for you every time y'all go out. and even after so long together, he still asks for permission to kiss you.

boyfriend jay, who loves taking you to his hometown, seattle. y'all know that video of him taking a late night walk there 💔 im sick he takes walks with you at night all the time he just loves you so much and wants to show you where he grew up.

boyfriend jay, who's gentle even in bed. he won't ever hurt or degrade you unless you REALLY enjoy it. he might be slightly rougher on more stressed or pent-up days, but other than that, he literally makes love.

jake

boyfriend jake, who feels like he doesn't always have to think around you. he's so comfortable with you that he knows it's okay to say something that doesn't make sense or something that might not be correct because you won't judge him and you probably get exactly what he means.

boyfriend jake, who is literally your shadow. he gives you your space, of course, but he loves you and loves being around you. he's literally like a lost puppy just following you around the house.

boyfriend jake, who's obsessed with your butt. don't get me wrong, he loves your boobs too, constantly face planting into them— but that ass though. his pillow. his bongos. his dinner, i fear.

sunghoon

boyfriend sunghoon, who's literally your best friend. like you got a boyfriend and bestie in one. you guys will just sit there and talk to each other for hours about nonsense. sometimes when you get bored, you'll help him with his english too.

boyfriend sunghoon, who thinks you're the funniest person on earth. if they asked who makes him the laugh the most he'd say you. sometimes you're not even telling a joke, and he's in the corner giggling like a school girl.

boyfriend sunghoon, who's the best kisser. i mean he a DEEP kisser, like sometimes you'll withold from even a quick smooch cuz you know freakhoon gon jump out, and you'll end up naked.

sunoo

boyfriend sunoo who's your best friend, pt2. but not only that; he's your best friend, boyfriend, therapist, makeup artist, pillow, chef. he will be whatever you need him to be that day. he'd genuinely would do anything for you, he ADORES you.

boyfriend sunoo, who will always take your side even if you might be wrong. coworker getting on your nerves ? she should leave you alone. you cussed out some man at the club? he had it coming! a mosquito bit you? wtf is it's problem? NOT ON SUNOO'S WATCH.

boyfriend sunoo who is versatile when it comes to the bedroom. whatever you're feeling that day he will do. if you want him on top that night, he'll joyfully do it. you in a rough mood? give him 2 minutes, and he'll get into mode. as long as you feel good, he feels great.

jungwon

boyfriend jungwon, who is literally your other half. y'all are the goofiest duo on the planet, i swear. the type of couple to make up their own language while everybody else looks at you like you're insane. you guys have so many inside jokes, too.

boyfriend jungwon, who's always given you the first bite or last bite of his food. even when you say 'no' or tell him you're not hungry, he will stilk feed you. he loves you so much and wants to make sure you're never hungry and always content.

boyfriend jungwon, who touches your boobs and butt a lot but somehow makes it in the most innocent way possible... like he's not even being a freak he's just holding your boobs as if this is normal. hands reaching out to give your ass a jiggle or make a beat on it like it's a drumset.

niki

boyfriend niki, who tries so hard to be nonchalant around you, but somebody tell him he is NOT that guy 🙏🏽. you're too funny and too pretty for him to be nonchalant, he be smiling like a big ol' goofy around you. he still tries to act like he doesn't care in front of his members, though. can't let them know !

boyfriend niki, who won't let anybody else touch his stuff except for you. whatever's his is yours once you guys are together. he even lets you play on his game console if you're bored while he's away. he especially loves when you steal his clothes, but he won't let you know that.

boyfriend niki who always tries to impress you. performing extra hard on stage, being really good at a game, walking around in a tanktop and sweats to show off his muscles; anything to get you to compliment him. Please compliment him, or he'll sulk and say you hate him and think he's ugly.

a/n: hi ill answer the asks in my box soon

[lilacstro]

"I'll imagine we fell in love, i'll nap under moonlight skies with you"🌙 pac: what does your forever person look like<3

hey y'all, I hope you're fine. It's been a while since I posted a pac, so here we are. I love love love this song, its so beautiful. I hope you play this song after this if you don't know this one, I am sure you'd not be disappointed ;)

support me on ko-fi

Paid readings open

★Pile 1★

mini energy check: ok pile 1, it seems like you may be introverted, or maybe just isolated currently. that was one thing that was coming through. You may have been waiting for this person for forever or quite sometime now is one more thing coming through. It may feel delayed, setbacks or something may always come in between.

Physical appearance: This person may be asian, especially east asian?? or they may have monolids. For others, they may also have tattoos, a very lively yet intimidating face? Something about them may want you to reach out to them but also scare or intimidate you at the same time. This person has something very bright, very noticeable, almost as if you can recognize them in a big crowd. They may have a young, innocent face, bedroom eyes and an athletic body, if not necessarily muscular. Gives me boy next door vibes speaking of which there is maybe a band called boynextdoor and they are japanese? if I'm right? because Japan was coming a lot in this reading, maybe they have really good fashion sense.

Their personality, vibe and energy: They are likely to be ambiverts, someone who has bursts of energy. If we talk about MBTI, they may be the turbulent types. Idk why but Leo Mercury coming through as well. This person would be all over the place, I am hearing, "everything, everywhere, all at once" and then get tired. They have a child like spirit and curiosity to them. They may also have trouble concentrating for long hours, and may get disappointed if they are not able to do 173920 tasks that they wanted to. They are a leader, and like to lead people, take responsibilities and learn and do many new things, but at the end of the day, behind all this energy and hype, there is a silent, introspective soul. Extremely aware, to a point where they may even get into an almost meditative state, feeling their pulse. I am hearing, "going numb", so this person may often feel incomplete, or unhappy inside despite having all.

your relationship with them: your relationship with them may take some time to bloom, but be assured, it would prosper long term. This may likely be because of how aware and introspective this person is, but once they decide that you are the one, they become "the man", the person you want and need. Extremely emotionally available. They are not the types who would play mind games with you. This person will show you the real intimacy. I am hearing "talking hands", this person either may love tarot? or other forms of divination? but mostly they would stand on their words and prove them with actions. There would be beautiful merge of feelings, and intellect and communication. Words of affirmations, you'd never feel lonely or unloved with this person. Just how a flower blooms slowly, you would open up to this person and this relationship would progress in its time, there is no force other than the one of nature.

★Pile 2★

mini energy check: some of you guys here could be breaking out a lot? or maybe feel itchy? There can also be some kind of discomfort in the body, as in feeling restless or just uneasy? You may feel extra cautious towards your skin, food and body these days. Korean skincare coming through??

Physical appearance: This person looks mature, and reserved and would not like attention to themselves. A sharp jawline. Scorpio and Capricorn may be significant in their chart or they may have such intense features. They may like wearing black a lot, especially flowy clothing. A tall, intimidating stature, idk why but I am hearing this person looks like an anime? yandre? I am so sorry I am not aware about anime or anything, but all I can say is this person looks mystifying and intense.

Their personality, vibe and energy: This person may be rather reserved and may not present their cards on the table for everyone to see. They may like to have different ways and personalities to deal with different kinds of people. This person is not a leader tbh, more like an owner, a boss, an authority figure. I am hearing "I own it". This person may even have nervous energy inside them but you would never guess. Some people may find them shallow, but they just do not reveal themselves to anyone just like that. Its hard to know them. This person is a visionary, a creative and full of ideas though. There can be an irritable, erratic, and elusive nature them sometimes, especially when it comes to their work, they are serious. They may have built their way to the top to what they have. Extreme hardworkers. They cannot be bossed around tbh. They may enjoy nature a lot.

your relationship with them: Your relationship to them is a breath of fresh air. This relationship would heal you, unwind you to your core, and help you let go of any past traumas you've had. This person gives me total "book bf" vibes, because they would love you like no other. I am hearing "kiss me on the mouth, and love me like a sailor". This person is a total softie for you tbh. This relationship would be incredibly healing, and your love would be more than valued and reciprocated. For some of you, this person would have to manage stuff between their job/studies and you, and be assured they would. You guys may see each other in dreams a lot, a lot of closeness and intimacy. You both would complete each other tbh. This relationship may very well be a past life, incomplete love story kind of romance. Your world would feel like full of warmth and sunshine after you meet this person. You guys may also enjoy doing art, or exploring art and music together. You both would bind each other down for good. idk why am i hearing "whispers in your ear" lmao. I am also hearing "mother at first sight"? Maybe the envision a family with you or you may remind them of a mother figure, or you may fill that space in them through your love. This person sees you as divine, almost like a goddess.

★Pile 3★

mini energy check: you guys maybe the eldest in your house? or may be really bossy, unwilling to listen to someone or work under someone as such. A lot of independent, masculine energy. Tbh you guys may be the one who know this song at the very least if not like it a lot. Its giving me the vibe of "I am a strong independent women who need no one but a cute guy would be nice idk" lmao. You guys may have recently completed something and some of you may also have started to embrace themselves, take your mask off, do self help stuff, and impose healthy boundaries recently. Some of you here really need to give your ears a rest if you use headphones lmao

Physical appearance: Some of you here may have already met this person, whether it be that they are friendzoned or you are dating them, there is no ex energy here and if this isn't your case then ofc you haven't met them yet. You guys may also have been attracted to pile 1, and 2 as well? or may have hard time choosing. This person looks really young, like really young. For some of you this person may also look androgynous, but really beautiful and charming. They may also have an innocent look onto them or something. A very "pure" looking person. A glowing face, charming presence. I am seeing bruno mars for some reason? This person also may not be super tall or something but rather a bit short if not "too" short or something. A very beautiful face, both the genders may find them appealing tbh. Very well could have Moon or Venus or both in 1st house. May have long, untamed hair as well. Some of them may also have that "jazz bar" look. Good body proportions but may usually stand with crossed hands or some protective look.

Their personality, vibe and energy: This person does not like drama and conflict. I was already getting a Libra vibe from them in the physical appearance check. They are also brave, very consistent and someone who would never give up, even on you (aw). They are the perfect mix of a mom and dad energy, they would fight and protect, everyone, including their friends and family. This person may also be super stubborn and defensive sometimes, especially when its about someone or something their emotions are tied to. A big homebody kind of person. This person would not hide a lot from anyone and would most likely be up for a conversation most of the times, extroverted energy coming through. They may even study philosophy, I almost said "philanthropy"? So they may even have some kind of connection to that? Could be because this person is extremely giving, to a point where there is no energy or time left for them. They are the friend people call at 3 am lmao.

your relationship with them: This person first of all may like grand gestures of love, serenading you for example or telling you how much they love you, whatever it is. This person may have STRONG scorpio kind of energy with you. Almost like they would merge you, two souls in one, and not let anyone lay their eyes on you, to an obsessive level. May get jealous easily. You guys would be very coherent and very emotional, both of it, in extremes. This would transform you honestly, this person and relationship, both. Your ancestors may lead you to this person. There is an energy of "I ain't letting you go" and "you got me fixed on you" lmao. This person would be your guide and love through the toughest times of life, maybe that's why this would be transformative, but even if not that, this person would show you direction in life, maybe that's why ancestral thing was coming through. This person would heal and accept your shadows and flaws, nothing to hide from them :)

[sturnslutz]

the line we crossed - chapter one.

what happens when you and your best friend start to develop feelings even when it's basically forbidden between the two of you?

bestfriend!matt x bestfriend!reader

warnings of this chapter- fluff, tension, fight between matt and some guy. kinda slowburn.

a/n: yay first series!!! if this is horrible pls let me know

the party's music was blasting in your ears as your best friend, matt, and his two brothers, chris and nick dragged you all through the party.

you and matt didn't even really want to go, and would rather stay home and watch some dumb movies while cuddling laying close together.

chris and nick begged you guys to come, and stating how "you guys never go out anymore, you need to be more social." chris's words while matt rolled his eyes.

the atmosphere of the intoxicating party was burning your eyes as matt kept a firm grip of your hand while holding you close to him as he followed his brothers.

"where the fuck are we going?" he said as he yelled to chris who was in front of him, who already had a drink despite being there for not even two minutes.

“i have no idea but that’s the fun part about it!” chris says chuckling as he wraps his arm around nick’s shoulder and whispering something into his ear.

matt rolls his eyes as he looks back to you, muttering a “come on.” and nods his head toward the balcony. you nod and follow his lead as he takes the two of you to the empty balcony, finally being able to breathe.

"y'alright?" matt says as he takes a deep breath, looking out towards the dark forest behind the house. "mhm. jus' already a bit stressed out. y'know how i am about parties like this." he nods in understanding. you've always been a 'stay inside' type person, so when you get to parties like this, you're easily stressed out.

"if you wanna go, we can. i'll text nick and tell him that him and chris can get a cab because he's going to be too drunk to drive." he says, laughing softly before rubbing your shoulder.

"are you sure? we jus' got here and i don't want to make you leave just because i want to." you say, looking up at him as he shakes his head. "of course, pretty. i never want you to feel uncomfortable and i would definitely want to spend time with you rather than stay here." you nod as hug him softly. "thank you." you mutter into his sweater. "of course, lemme text nick." he rubs your back before you pull away and he takes out his phone, texting nick.

"okay, let's go." he grabs your hand once again, sliding open the door and walking the two of you through the crowd. as you were trying to keep yourself close to matt and head low, you feel a pair of hands grab your hips. "what the fuck?" you mutter as you get pulled away from matt's hand and into some guy's arms.

"hey, mama. where ya' goin'? y'all jus' got here." the clearly drunk guy says, smirking. you had recognized him, he was the guy who hosted the party. you and him weren't close, but you remember chris and him being friends. "um, me and matt were leaving because i'm not really good with parties, so." you say softly, while looking for matt who was now nowhere to be found.

"matt? chris's brother? hm. he's a pussy who obviously don't care about you if he jus' left without you, huh? so where's prince charming at now?" he chuckles as his grip on your hips get tighter.

"right here motherfucker." you turn your head at the voice but get pushed back as matt pulls you away from him, and swings a punch at the guy. you can't even process it, but matt gets the guy onto the ground, repeatedly throwing punches at the guy. the crowd around you yells and hypes matt up as you feel another pair of arms wrap around you, and you recognize them as nick.

"you okay?" he says into your ear as you nod, not being able to pull your eyes away from matt continuing to punch the now bloody faced guy. chris emits from the crowd and tries to pull matt off him. "matt! 's not worth it!" matt pushes chris off him and continuing to punch the guy until he passed out.

matt stood up, wiping knuckles on his shirt and grabs your hand without another word and pushes the two of you through the crowd once again. nick and chris follow you both as matt storms to his car, ignoring your questions.

"matt what the fuck? why would you do that?" you say as he pushes you into the car, slamming the door and shutting your voice off. chris and nick try their best to get into the car, the best their drunk selves can. matt gets into the driver's seat, rubbing his hands over his face as he hears the back door close, indicating all of you have got into the car.

he drives off without another word, ignoring the other's questions and focuses on the road. you shut yourself up, disassociating yourself from the non-existent conversation and turn and look out the window, when you notice matt was not going to talk.

he parks the car infront of their house, and opens his door and slams it close all in the same movement. you didn't even have a chance to unbuckle your seatbelt when matt walks into the house. you turn and look at chris and nick who are both seemingly quiet now. "are you okay?" chris asks you and you nod. "you didn't get hit or anything?" "no, matt pushed me away and then swung. the guy mainly just grabbed my hips and held onto me but besides that, he didn't do anything else."

chris and nick both nod, unbuckling themselves and exit the car. you do the same, and enter the house with a certain caution. you knew matt wasn't mad at you, but you didn't want to anger him more by saying or doing the wrong thing.

you knock softly on his door, waiting for his response. "matt? it's me. can i come in?" you wait outside the door as you hear some shuffling, and matt opens the door, dragging you inside and wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly, stuffing his head into your neck.

"m' sorry. you didn't get hurt, did you?" he says, muffled into your hair. you shake your head no as you rub his back. it's not like you haven't seen matt cry, but it was just a rare occurrence. he nods, sniffling. he pulls himself up and looks down at you with his drenched face.

"matt... why'd you do it?" you rub the tears off his face as he leans into your cheek and shrugs. "i don' know. i lost you and when i saw him rubbing himself on you and dissing me, i just freaked. 'm really sorry."

you smile sadly at this. "it's okay, i just didn't want to see you get hurt." you take his right hand into yours, and rub and examine the bloody cuts. he hisses softly as he flinches. "m' sorry, do you wan' me to clean it up?" he shakes his head no and grabs your hand, dragging you to his bed. "i wanna just sleep. we can clean it tomorrow." you nod as the two of you get into the bed, his arm wrapping around your waist, and the two of you a little close than "friends" should be.

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris comment to be added or removed.

[vaspider]

Okay, no. Absolutely not. We are not doing this sort of absolutist shit where we put the responsibility for managing someone's mental illness 100% on their friends and family and making statements like "if you need to guess if someone loves you, they don't" on a post that's clearly aimed at people with mental illnesses.

I had to come back and dig this out of the notes because this is so important and this response made me so absolutely fucking livid. I wish I could find the post that scrolled across my dash earlier today that said something along the lines of, "y'all say 'trust my gut about people but my gut tells me that everyone secretly hates me and wants to disown me.'"

That's what this post is talking about, and here's another hard-to-swallow pill: while it's okay to ask for extra support from your friends and family, your friends and family cannot read your mind and have their own shit going on and will not know that their standard means of expressing love and care to you are not what you need right now unless you tell them so. Additionally, if your brain tells you that your friends and family hate you, and you know that your brain tells you lies because you have depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, or a similar mental illness? You need to develop coping strategies that will help you not constantly put 100% of the weight of making you feel better on your friends and family, if only because you are undoubtedly not the only mentally ill person in your circle of friends.

I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. My wife Emet has depression, and it's real fucking bad. My brain tells me all the time that people I love are bored and irritated by my existence, and my wife's brain tells her all the time that both of her partners don't actually love her, and that we're secretly talking shit about her all the time and we'd be better off if she died. I expect support from my partners when my brain is doing bad things, because I have talked to them about my needs, clearly communicated with them, and because I will ask them when I need extra support, because I know enough to stop and say, "my brain is lying to me. My wives do not hate me. They love me. I need to tell them that I'm feeling this way so they can support me."

Sometimes they might be able to tell that I need extra care because of how I'm acting, but I can't 100% expect them to know when my brain is being terrible, because they're not psychic and my wife is also fighting her own battles against a brain that tells her that I'd be better off if she died. (That thought fucking horrifies me, it should go without saying.)

I have doubts all the time that people really love me, because my brain lies, but because I am a grown-up butch, I have put on my big-kid pants and gone to therapy and developed some coping skills that both help me to recognize when a) my brain is lying to me and b) I need to ask for extra love, care and support. Part of asking for extra love, care, and support is teaching your friends and family to recognize your signs and signals and not expecting them to fucking guess based on their own feelings, past experiences, etc., because the same way that my brain lies to me, their brains lie to them, and we all grew up with different communication styles and words meaning different things.

The shit you're saying puts the full weight of taking care of you on the people around you, flawlessly and without fail. It means that the people around you must always correctly interpret your signs and signals, never leave you in any doubt whatsoever no matter what bullshit your brain puts you through, never be tired or busy or going through their own shit, or they don't love you. That is some supremely self-centered bullshit that frankly makes someone into a toxic tar pit of a person.

So don't do that.

[impala124]

Bad Buddy 12

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5 | Ep 6 | Ep 7 | Ep 8 | Ep 9 | Ep 10 | Ep 11

Me, at the end of this episode:

Oh, we have a 4-year time skip!! Interesting.

Pat, where is the Nong Nao doll? I don't see it on your bed. I need answers right now.

I like the transition from Pat putting down his toothbrush to Pran picking up his own. Very clever.

Pran, quick question: WHERE ARE YOU? I see the view in the background, and that's one of Singapore's most iconic buildings, if I'm not wrong, which is definitely not in Thailand. So, boy, what's your ass doing in Singapore?

At least he's still wearing The Watch, so I have hope. Pran's a yearner through and through, so I expected nothing less from him.

We all agree that Max is hitting on Pran, right? Pran's not having any of it, though.

Poor Pat, he doesn't look too happy when Korn and Wai mention revisiting the old days.

Not the fucking elevator flashback 😭😭. Oh no, the curry Pran made for him after he confessed that he liked him. Man, this shit hurts!!

I, for one, am not at all surprised that Pat joined his father's business after graduation. I could've told you that on the day we first met him.

Sidenote, but why are these 22/23-year-olds lamenting about getting old?

Guys, Pa graduated from university and is making a movie!! My baby's all grown up now!! *wipes tears*

Ok, Wai and Korn each have girlfriends. How about instead of saving for individual dowries, you both just ditch the girls and marry each other? Just food for thought.

But why aren't they bringing up Pat's love life? Is it still a touchy topic? I mean, it's been 4 years, and we don't know what reason they gave their friends for the breakup, though, so we shall see.

What do you mean someone else moved into Pran's room? It should've been preserved as a heritage site. Contacting the people at UNESCO ASAP.

Ink and Pa are on my screen together. My boys might be miserable right now, but at least my girls are thriving.

A high school reunion, you say? If I'm not wrong, Pat, Pran, and Ink went to the same high school. Are they going to MEET at the reunion????!

Wow, Ink misses her high school classmates. Definitely can't relate to that sentiment, bestie.

Pat, sir, is that a smile on your face at the possibility of running into Pran at the reunion?

Not Pat looking solemnly at the memory wall.😭😭

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Pran is here at the reunion!!!

Okay, so just looking longingly at each other is all I'm going to get for now.

"But some things can never change." Pat, bestie, change is the only constant in life. Fuck everything else and go get your man!!

Are you really playing a game at your reunion if the prize up for grabs isn't something like an accommodation voucher for a night at a mid-budget hotel??

Not the trip down memory lane😭. Y'all are in the same room; talk to each other and put yourselves (& me) out of this misery.

A live performance, you say? And PRAN IS SINGING. Now, don't tell me it's the song he wrote to soft launch his feelings to Pat in high school.

Yes, he is. Pat, are you listening? I know you're hearing it, but are you LISTENING to it?

EXCUSE ME! What was that sweet smile you guys just exchanged? I need an explanation!! NOW!!!

A group photo with them being pushed towards each other, which could be a metaphor for the string of fate always bringing them back together. Love to see it.

Pat, let me introduce you to something called a cab. It's really effective in taking your friend's drunk ass home, especially when your ex is giving you THE LOOK!!

Okay, Pat's on the phone with Pa (probably?) and is complaining about being hungry. You know what you should do, Pat? Go to your favorite noodle shop and wait for your ex to show up so that you can talk things through.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S PRAN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR AND ON THE PHONE??!!! My brain is malfunctioning right now.

"You said you'd sleep at your house." What in the hell is happening right now?

Crisis averted, the Nong Nao doll makes an appearance on the bed.

Okay, Pran, I see you wearing your 'happy hour' shirt while complaining to your boyfriend (?) about Singapore's air pollution.

One thing about them: they are going to use the fucking sponsored makeup remover on the other. It's quite endearing, actually.

BB Product placement stays superior till the end.

I need an explanation, stat!! Are you still mad I didn't pick you up at the airport? What is that boyfriend-ass statement, Pat?

Pran just referred to Pat as his boyfriend. "We've been together for too long."

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY NEVER BROKE UP IN THE FIRST PLACE??!!! I need a minute to process this.

My reaction till now, everyone, is the fucking Kuleshov effect in action, with me thinking that both of them are sad because of their 4-year-long separation, when in reality, they are just boyfriends missing each other.

Aww, a memory wall in their home.

Finally, THE GUITAR PICK that Pat made for Pran all those years ago makes an appearance!

So, according to the photos on THE WALL, Pat actually visited Pran in Singapore.

I do hope we get a home tour at some point; I'm really interested in seeing how Pran's OCD self blended his life with Pat's messy ass.

Unknowingly, from two people who couldn't be friends, we became two people who were more than friends.

So, they lied to everyone by saying that they broke up and began Secret relationship 2.0

Not them holding their fucking pinkies together when they pass by in the hallway ASFDGHF—

Time and space are just a construct when it comes to me and my blorbos because remember what I said when they were dating in secrecy the first time? I told them that they should have at least one person they are both familiar with to be in the know about their relationship to maintain a successful secret relationship. And Pran IRREFUTABLY heard me because Wai, Korn, Pa, and Ink knew about them this time around. I bet Einstein didn't foresee this coming.

Aww, they even visited Uncle Tong and Junior after they graduated.

I love that the parents aren't still getting along, because in such cases where the rivalry dates back decades, it feels abnormal to not continue doing so. It's almost like sunk cost fallacy but make it about rivalry.

However, I do love the little detail of Ming having to back off during their car face-off because Ming was the one who stabbed Dissaya in the back, figuratively speaking, all those years ago.

Not Pran rubbing the shirt all over his body to ensure that his scent lasts for a while💀 My boy is an actual menace.

Pat, sir, what are you thinking sending thirst pics to your boyfriend AT WORK?

They even held their pinkies together in their high school reunion photo.

Oh, I'm a happy camper because all my ships are sailing smoothly. The irony of Wai and Korn running the bar (where they used to fight with each other on a regular basis) together is just 😂 😂

Wai and Korn are soft launching their relationship, and no one can tell me otherwise. See, Pat is also a KornWai truther.

Pa, sweetheart, Ink was pining for you since she was in high school. I don't think you need to worry about her straying.

Keep up with shoving your couple photos down everyone's throats, though, just because y'all are hella cute together.

Korn does look like a middle-aged Asian uncle when he is complaining about the rival faculties breaking tables. Oh, how the tables have turned.

Yes, Wai, it's your penance for all the mess you guys used to cause all those years ago.

"Guys, I don't mind if you want to fight, but you must get a lover out of the fight, just like me." STAHP IT

Pran went from ordering three wontons to four—that's how you know he's in a long-term relationship, accommodating your partner without any prodding from their side.

Pran's "I brought your dad a bottle of liquor" is a solid strategy. There is nothing Asian dads love more than receiving imported liquor, even if they don't drink. A sure way to win some brownie points.

Kissing in front of the trashcans!!!! Oh, how far they've come.

Ming once again being the most Asian dad to ever exist by just randomly flipping through the newspaper just to appear busy.

As much as I love to hate on his quintessential Asian dad quirks, he is the most relatable of bl dads for me. Is he perfect? No, but I don't think anyone can say that he doesn't love his son.

Ink is accepted by Pa's parents, which doesn't surprise me one bit because she's perfect. PERIOD.

The dinner scene at Pat's house is a callback to the dinner scene in the initial episodes, when the dad was telling Pat to not let the neighboring boy win at any cost. Oh, how the tables have turned! Now, Pat is trying to curry favor with his dad for the said neighboring boy.

MING TOOK A SIP. Told ya, Asian dads just can't resist imported liquor.

The question of Pran's guitar. Did Pat keep it with him this time around too??!!

Ming crossed the LINE to deliver the mail, and Dissaya saw it.

Awww, his mom put it on his bed, which goes in line with my theory about parallels between Dissaya accepting Pran playing the guitar and him loving Pat. So, I'll be taking this as silent acceptance from her regarding their relationship.

I think both of them are ready to bury the hatchet, TO AN EXTENT, for the sake of their kids happiness.

Going off on a tangent for a bit, but bear with me. Let me take a moment to thank @respectthepetty for training me into thinking of love whenever I see the color pink because, what was the paint color the fathers used to draw the boundary between their houses all those years ago? Yes, it was fucking pink. It means that the answer was love all along. They were MEANT to fall in love to bridge the rift between their families. Talk about 'born to be together,' which was the exact sentiment Pran wanted to convey through The Song in high school.

Now, Pat coming into Pran's room through the window is a clear callback to the time Pat did the same to return the watch after Pran saved Pa. However, then he did it to tell Pran to not act friendly towards him in front of others, and now it's to spend some time with him without hiding from anyone, even their parents.

"If not you, I won't allow anyone else to use it. Pran, when I catch you—

Not Pran, my resident menace, trying to wake up the green-eyed monster by mentioning that Wai may have used it before💀😂

Pran's dad providing the meta commentary with his "This show is just so good." comment.

Ah, forehead kisses, my beloved!!!

Man, the flashbacks to when they were kids overlapping with them right now are just the cutest.

Everyone gather around because I just had a very big-brained thought. Remember, in Ep 8, on the rooftop, Pat wanted to share their relationship with the entire world while Pran asked what's wrong with just wanting to keep it for themselves. What if, whatever happened with their relationship after that, was just exploring both their paths? They clearly tried Pat's way first because Pran cared about him, despite his worry, and it resulted in the Ep 11 ending. After that, they took Pran's way and we all saw how it panned out for them. It might've taken them four years, but their parents are kinda onboard with their relationship.

Now that we're on this subject, let me try to provide some context to Wai pulling down the curtain on their relationship. Not defending his actions, but me thinks it was very intentional that Wai heard Pran say that although he's worried about others finding out about their (Pat & Pran's) relationship, he's willing to take the risk because he cares about Pat more. Wai's vindictive ass heard that and went through his montage of Pran lying to me about his relationship with Pat moments in his head and decided to put Pran's words about caring about Pat more to the test.

We get a post-credit scene? Truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Of course it had to be on a rooftop! Wait a second. Pat's birthday is on 23rd April, and the first time Pat slept over in Pran's room is on 24th April. The psychological implications of it all (for me) can't be overstated!!

Pran, my menace-in-residence, was really showing his horny ass by saying, 'The winner can do anything to the loser.' Never change, bestie!!

Well, I got the house tour I asked for earlier. Fucking Architectural Digest could never.

They shut the door in my face, and I said thank you!!

Honestly, I don't think I've even processed the finale yet. It was very pleasing to my lizard brain, that's for sure. I need to sit with it for a few days, and I'll probably write something about my whole experience liveblogging this BB watch and my thoughts on some of the CHOICES made in the whole series. A sneak peek of few things that are marinating in my head are—

Pat associating Pran with home because he feels lost (I was only half-joking when I compared him to a lost puppy following Pran around).

The air of sadness around Pat that just goes unacknowledged for the most part.

Pran associating Pat with freedom because he feels burdened.

Pran feeling undeserving of Pat's love.

Like I said, I'll be thinking about them a WHOLE LOT.

Quick question: Were there any talks of a season 2? Because there are some easter eggs peppered throughout the series that deserve further exploration, and they definitely have issues they need to address and work through as a couple. This ending will only count as an HFN (happy for now) in my book. I'm putting this ending on par with the To My Star ending, and I adored To My Star 2, so there's that. Still waiting for To My Star 3, though that's a discussion for another day.

One thing I can say for sure is that I'm extremely grateful for the fandom that has welcomed me with open arms and engaged with all my ramblings each episode, because let's be honest, it was just a stream of consciousness.

I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun watching the series without you guys. I'll be camping out on the rooftop for so long that I'll be claiming squatters rights for sure!!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou, @tao-moonb, @fanatic-freakshow @desi-yearning.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Languages

Just a snippet of something I was working on but then got bored of the concept so didn't write it but I still want everyone to read the fluf. Tell me if y'all are interested in this, maybe I'll continue it with public demand<3

Plot: reader is kinda reincarnate. She was cursed in her first life by a witch because she had an affair with the witches husband. (Don't judge okay, my girl made a mistake!!) And the curse was to be reincarnated in every lifetime with her memories of last life still intact, and to find someone she loves and watch them die (Because why not).

Masterlist

○●○●

"Do you remember the languages?"

"Of course, I do. Cursed to do so, remember?" You smirk.

"Tell me something in them." Azriel's eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"我过了愉快的一天。It means, I had a good day." He looks awed by the foreign words. And then excitedly asks for more, like a child wanting to know new facts.

You laugh and amuse him, speaking in different languages, repeating a few when he asks to learn them. Speaking in these tounges, many that you forgot even existed in different worlds, it feels nostalgic, the words awakening all the happy and sad mamories that you had buried deep in your brain.

"I also remember my first language, the one I spoke in the life I got cursed."

"Oh? Tell me." He smiles softly.

You smile at him, bluntly admiring his beautiful face.

"હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ."

You look deep into his eyes, speaking the truth that was buried within your heart. Even though you've said it before, it feels somehow different, even more intimate in your native language. Azriel seems to have sensed the raw emotion in your words, his face filled with adortion as he asks, "What does that mean?"

You want to answer him truly but think to mess with him a little and smirk up at him. "You are weird."

The two of you bust out laughing, looking at each other, him shaking his head in disbelief with the smile still on his lips, and your head tossed back, eyes closed in pure contentment.

"I hate you." Azriel still shakes his head, looking elsewhere for a moment, trying to look annoyed but failing.

When you finally pause laughing, you crook out a reply, "I'm sorry! You are not weird-" He finally looks at you, an eyebrow raised. "You are just- odd," He scoffs. "But good odd, I promise!" The last sentence barely understandable through your laughter.

"Well, હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ, too."

You freeze. All signs of amusement leaving your face as you gaze at him. Your eyes widened, mouth agaped. Hearing those words, in your language, from his mouths, ignited something in you.

Also, how did he say it without mistakes after hearing only once?

He frowns at your reaction. "What- Did I say it wrong? Oh god, I made a mistake didn't I?" He winces, thinking about all the possibilities about what he could've said to have a reaction like this.

"No,You-" Blinking at him in shock, you put your hands on his neck and gently kiss him. He instanty melts into the kiss, moving his lips with yours with passion.

You pull back after a moment and say, "You said it perfectly." You're lips curved into a soft smile.

"Yeah? Now tell me what it really means."

"Huh?"

"Considering the kiss you gave me, it can't actually mean what you said."

You laugh. "Well, guess you'll never know." He sighs dramatically, then smirks. "Then I'll just keep saying it until you tell me."

"Darling, હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ."

●○●○

(હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ. = I love you. In gujarati.)

[zz0mbi3]

ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ

summary: joel miller headcanons

warnings: slight allusions to spicy stuff, nothing too graphic. ellie's a menace

~now, i'm going to get this out of the way because i know what you fiends came here for

~yes, there's an age gap. nothing too crazy, of course

~definitely grumpy and sunshine vibes, even if you're a grumpy mess too. nothing tops him (especially not in be-)

~he definitely was reluctant at the start when getting to know you. we all know how "amazing" he is as helping others...

tommy: they got a kid, joel-

joel: so do we, keep driving - the incident in question

~nevertheless, and despite what he tries to say, you've grown on him. and maybe the fact that ellie says that you're the coolest person she's met since joel? yeah, he kinda can't get rid of you now

~somehow he has amazing self control with himself

~like there were definitely many times the man was crashing out and was about to do something drastic with you when he had to reign it in and actually think about it

~insanely jealous individual. luckily for him, not too many people to meet nowadays, but whenever you do engage in conversation with someone else, he's right there. ellie has caught him staring at you having a conversation with someone else, eye twitching

~whenever y'all have to squeeze through a small space because i'm sure there are many of those when trying to get away from the clickers, somehow his hands end up on you. not in a sexual way or anything, you just look down at some point and he is GRIPPING your waist to make sure you actually get out of that situation safely

~afterwards, the man has to sit down and just think for a minute. imagine it, just him sitting, hands raised to his chin as he ponders it all

~Mr. Darcy hand flex, think about it now

~if you happen to start walking a little further than he feels comfortable with you going, you're gonna feel one of his fingers curling through the belt loop of your jeans and tugging you back

"nuh, uh, stay here."

~you also have some self control in you, making sure not to be too affectionate right out the gate. you know he has a lot of unresolved trauma to go through (who doesn't in the literal apocalypse) and you don't want to push him to do something he isn't comfortable with or ready for

~there are many times y'all argue, his temper is on a short yet neverending fuse that seems to go out and reflame often. oftentimes he waits for ellie to leave before discussing things with you, and if it gets heated, oh boy

~sometimes, he doesn't think straight and in the middle of arguing you feel his calloused hand wrap around your wrist. not too hard, he doesn't want to hurt you, even if you piss him off sometimes, but enough to know "oh...he's serious".

~although, 99.9% of the time you have to stare at the floor for about 25 seconds to think about it. "oh, so what were we even fighting about?" that kinda stuff

~although he doesn't always show it directly, you can always tell that he cares. like, he's not typically one to look at you in the face and go "i need you to stay safe or else i'm gonna lose it", but somehow you just know.

~there will be days you wake up with an extra sleeping mat stuffed under your head or another warm coat and jacket draped over you that you definitely did not fall asleep with. other times you've gotten back from outside to find a warm drink sitting out for you. (does it taste good? yeah, yk what hell yeah).

~there's definitely been times where your boots have come untied so often while you're walking that before you can even process what's happening, he's retying them, mumbling under his breath about how "it's not that hard to double knot", but you can tell he isn't really mad when he pats your calf afterwards and stands back up

~he always refills your water and food when your rations get low. like you look away from your bottle for one second and he's refilling it with his own water (y'all fought about this for a while)

~surprise you have a teenage daughter now!

~ellie's a menace with you guys, oh my goodness. but at first, she didn't really like you very much. it was nothing against you, but she didn't like that someone else was joining her and joel's life, so it took some warming up to for her to understand that you being there was helping her and joel, and she actually missed your company when you would be away.

~she will follow you guys everywhere with the smuggest look on her face like she did something. always trying to do something stupid so you both end up having to help her and work together. she's also definitely stolen stuff from you guys so you guys have to share

~whenever you have nightmares, it's like he can sense it. and let's be honest, you definitely do have them because those clickers would have me passed out on the ground, dead, deceased. you guys don't get to sleep comfortably often (if at all) so when you're just laying on the ground in a sleeping bag, it's much easier to hear you tossing and turning. he'll wake up almost immediately and watch for a second to make sure it's not just you shifting around before he approaches you. there's a bit of hesitation, but when he sees how you're genuinely struggling, you're gonna end up sleeping against his chest, oh yes you will. he'll definitely wake you up to talk to you about it, and if you aren't willing to share, he's fine with just sitting there and comforting you.

~"i know, i know", when he's comforting you (or talking you through-)

~now when you guys ACTUALLY got together, it was kinda out of nowhere

~it was getting pretty overwhelming for you to keep it hidden (and ellie had been in both of y'alls ears, basically pushing you two closer and closer). so one day, you find yourself sitting with him and you just start rambling

"look, i know i'm young and everything...and i know you don't see me the way that i see you...and it's silly to think that you would or anything, but-"

you're cut off by the look he's giving you, just of pure and utter confusion. he stares for what feels like forever, until he says in a low voice;

"who told you that?" OHHHH MYYYYY

and before you could even get a chance to really respond to the question, BOOM, you're getting kissed

~yeah, when ellie found out she was over the moon, because she thinks she's a genius or something and a wizard and made it all happen (definitely helped)

~now, remember when i said he was jealous? yeah, that gets almost 100x worse when you guys confirm an actual relationship. if looks could kill, everyone would be dead, i swear

~(just letting y'all know, joel does bite. a lot. do with that information what you will)

~he gets pretty pissed off when people say he's too old for you (he's literally not, the age gap ain't that bad guys) and has shouted at someone about it before! (will do it again)

~even before you all were together, i feel like he would help you pack up your supply bags. he wants to make sure you have everything you need, but it's pretty inevitable that you will take something of his almost every time

~when you're not able to sleep, whether it's because of anxiety or you're just not tired, he'll sit with you on his lap and strum the guitar for a bit to get you sleepier

~never let this man shave his face because imagine-

~y'all will be getting the best sleep you can possibly get when you're together. (he wore you out). he's a walking heater and definitely bear hugs you, very clingy

~he's definitely a gentleman most of the time, because you could be walking into an abandoned building and he's holding the door open for you and ellie (she shoved in front of you and laughed)

~he's always checking your temperature, hand pressed against your forehead. he's terrified that you'll get sick one day, that you'll break out into a fever and he won't be able to save you from turning into one of those...things

"you sure you ain't feelin' too hot, baby? i need to know now"

~oh, if you ever got yourself hurt...you're getting a mix of scolding and genuine worry as he fixes you up. it's one of the few times you've almost seen him cry believe it or not

~but yes, he does bite, again, i will say this again

[idkwhatever580]

The rings on the two specific fingers is such a nice touch yall don’t even know.

Also I can just see how Glinda has her arms moving backwards to catch her as she lets Elphaba moves her to the bed

I can imagine how they might speak 😭

I am definitely about to write a clip for this because I have to... It's like an obligation

Read whatever tf I wrote under the cut :)

if it isn't already obvious Glinda=Pink Elphaba=Green

Also, I apologize for the overuse of "Ozian" words

...

Oh Elphie-

Is this what you meant?

I- I kind of meant that you’d use the tips on someone else but- I think I’m okay with this too

Are you sure? We don't have to do anything if you're uncomfortifiable... (Ever the gentlewoman)

Would you just shut up and smooch me!

Whatever you say, Miss Upland...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus (that ended up being longer than the first part):

*The poor poor students that room below Glinda and Elphaba that I have used a random name generator to name Simran (blue) and Pemphero (orange)*

...

Ugh. Galinda and Elphaba are at it again!

It's Glinda now, don't you remember? She changed her name in honor of Dr. Dillamond.

Okay okay, Glinda and Elphaba are making a disturberance again! Is that better?

*insert obscene noises coming from Glinda and Elphaba's room above them*

You know... This never happened before... They used to just yell at each other all the time and fight, but ever since they went to The Emerald City and all they have just been doing this.

Yeah... I wonder what happened...

Enemies to lovers trope?

No absolutely not there is no way that they are your basic, average enemies to lovers trope...

I mean....

Actually? Now that I think about it, you might have something going with that...

I know right?!

*More lewd sounds from above*

but that doesn't negate the fact that these girls are intercoursifying above us when I need to be studying for the Linguification test!

yeaahhh... I'm gonna go to my partner's room to run from this... try the library?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

According to "The Tab" website, these are the definitions of the words I used that already existed.

Disturberance: (noun) something loud and upsetting

Linguification: (noun) the study of words, and the least popular class at Shiz University.

And these are the definitions of the words I made up. (I struggled through this because I am not this creative)

Uncomfortifiable: (adjective) the feeling of discomfort, or disdain

Intercoursifying: (verb) the act of having sexual intercourse in a rowdy way that can disturb others.

Anyways I hope y'all liked it! Have a good day people!!!

little ways to flirt and flounce

[callme-holly]

Hi!! Could I get a Darry x reader where she loses her virginity to him? You can ignore this!! Just wanna see some soft darry

𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 [darry curtis x reader]

𝐚/𝐧: not exactly smut but it does take place afterwards !! will i ever write the real deal? maybe idk y'all

The Curtis house is quiet, the boys out for the evening, leaving both you and Darry alone, basking in the silence that has settled over the residence. 

The two of you are both sprawled out on his mattress, the sheets tangling around you, your head resting on his chest, listening to his breathing, which is slowly beginning to return to normal. His fingers card through your hair, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, and the moment is strangely tender. 

"You okay?" he whispers after a moment, shifting beneath you so that he can look down at you, tilting your chin up slightly. His hair is mussed, sticking up in places, and his eyes are gentle and full of love, his lips soft and curved into a smile when your gaze meets his.

You hesitate for a moment, but then reach up to cup his face with both hands. "Yeah." You smile softly as your thumbs brush across his cheeks. "I'm more than okay..." 

He leans forward to kiss you again, but this time, instead of the heated kisses you'd exchanged earlier, it's slow and lazy, filled with warmth. Your legs shift, settling against his, and his arms tighten around you. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

You shake your head, your smile growing as you press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "No, Darry. You didn't hurt me." Your voice is soft, filled with reassurance, and you find yourself tracing patterns along his collarbone, feeling his body relax under yours as he closes his eyes and relishes in your touch. 

His hand travels further up your back, pulling you impossibly closer, while the other continues to brush through your hair, steady and sure, his lips peppering tender kisses across your face. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, finally breaking from your embrace. He presses his forehead gently against yours, his blue eyes meeting yours with such earnestness that it makes your heart flutter and your cheeks flush. There is no doubt in your mind that this man loves you, truly and unconditionally, and you feel certain it is not just because of what has happened tonight.

"I know," you whisper back, placing your palm flat against his cheek. A shiver runs through him, his eyelids closing briefly, before he opens them once more and smiles. The expression fills you with an unfamiliar sense of warmth as he traces the pad of his thumb along your jawline. "I love you too." 

Darry's lips twitch into a small smile at your confession, his thumb continuing its trail along the soft line of your jaw. He doesn't say anything for a few moments, content to let the silence speak for him, his expression so full of adoration that it makes your chest ache.

"You're something else, you know that?” He whispers finally, his voice low and thick with emotion. 

You laugh quietly, your face growing hot as you shift closer, tucking your head beneath his chin. “I think you might be a little biased.”

He hums, his chest rumbling with a small chuckle. “Maybe I am. But I mean it.”

You pause for a long moment, considering how to respond, your fingers idly tracing patterns across the bare expanse of his chest. It takes a minute, a couple dozen thoughts racing through your head, but eventually you manage.

“I don't think I've ever felt like this with anyone." The admission comes easy, your eyes falling closed. "This... It feels right. We feel right." 

Darry nods slowly, his fingers absently moving over your shoulders. "Yeah... Yeah, we do." 

You tilt your head to meet his eyes again, finding nothing but sincerity in his gaze, and in that moment you realise you've never felt safer with anyone in your life.

A faint noise from outside draws your attention—the sound of the boys' laughter drifting down the hall as the front door slams shut. You both chuckle softly, sounding both amused and slightly disappointed that your little moment of solitude has been interrupted.

"We should probably get decent," you murmur, and his grip tightens on you slightly.

"Just a few more minutes. They won't notice we're missing." Your body melts further against his, and you nod slowly. You could spend an eternity lying here, just like this, safe in his arms, and you have no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. 

[arilevenatz]

Ideal Trip

Pairing: San x reader

Genre: Action, fluff

Word count: 15.2k (💀)

Warnings: San is kinda not a nice man at first, but then he is!, blood, monsters getting mutilated, but it's for like 5 seconds so don't worry.

AN: I legit had a dream of this. This dream happened after crazy form teaser pics dropped and I had this in my drafts for that many days. I hope y'all like this as well. Please consider liking and pls reblog as it motivates me to write more!

The school that we are currently standing in front of is called 'The Ideal School'. Literally, that's it's name. Talk about overestimation. Even though it is called so, it is nothing like your average good school.

You see, it's an old school. Older than I can remember. Heck, my father was a student at this school.

And we came here to give an exam, a Mock test in particular. Some of our friends applied for this. Well, their parents did. And me you ask? I was here because, and these are my mom's words, "you will give the exam because all of your friends are giving it".

Yeah me and dad thought it was bullshit.

But as both of us are scared of her shouting and making the house a circus, I decided to give it.

And so here we are, sitting inside one of the classrooms on the ground floor. My classmates were there, as well as students from other schools.

The walls here are really old, covered in writings that stretch across the walls, doors, and windows. It feels so different from my school, and I can’t help but find it a bit strange.

Time passed and we were just chatting when all of a sudden there was this commotion in the corridor.

Us being curious little kids we went outside. We somehow got to know that a boy has been found sneaking in the canteen and going through the food stash.

I don't know why, but all of us went there. Why? To see the commotion there? Tsk, kids.. where is the canteen?

Reaching the canteen, we saw that the child who had dared to sneak in was being scolded. The teacher was saying something about punishing the kid. The kid, no older than 10, looked traumatized by the screaming teacher.

They are pretty strict with this" I asked one of my friends.

"I wouldn't last a day here" she replied with a chuckle.

I heard one of my other classmates say something but before that a high pitched sound pierced my ears.

My hands instinctively flew to my ears as black spots began to creep into my vision. And then, everything went dark.

Aw come on I came here to give a test not to pass out. Get up you weak ass bitch.

You do wake up, but not where you expect. This isn’t The Ideal. It’s your school. The one four stations away.

What. The. Hell.

The bell rings. The freaking bell.

You try to calm yourself, but panic bubbles up. You’re in your classroom, lying on one of the benches. Groggily, you push yourself up using your elbows and glance around.

Beside you, someone stirs.

“Wake up,” you mutter, shaking her.

“Five more minutes,” she grumbled.

“This isn’t your house! We’re at school!”

“School?!”

She bolt upright, eyes wide and frantic, looking more like a confused puppy than anything else.

The two of you quickly realize you’re in your classroom. Familiar, but something about it feels… off.

“Should we go out?” she ask softly, looking at the door.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You peek out first. The hallway is unsettlingly quiet. Too quiet. Something feels very, very wrong.

The two of you head to the neighboring classroom, where your other friends sit cluelessly at their desks.

“Surprise, motherfuckers,” you announce.

“Ah!”

“So, what’s the deal?” you ask, ignoring their startled expressions.

“The stork?” one of them jokes, earning her a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

You sigh. "We need to figure this out. Let’s go.”

As the defacto leader of your little group, your friends all look at you for guidance. You don’t remember volunteering for the job, but it’s become second nature by now.

The layout of the school flashes in your mind—there’s the main building, the field, the stage at the far end, and the smaller two-story building beside it, home to the singing room. It’s always been your favorite spot.

Stepping outside, you’re greeted by chaos.

No, worse than chaos. Something you can’t explain.

Students, rows upon rows of them, march silently across the school grounds like lifeless puppets. Their faces are blank, their movements robotic.

And suddenly, you’re alone.

You whirl around. Where are they? Your friends who were just right here. You rack your brain, desperate to remember, but all you get are fragments: the classroom, the field, the students, their uniforms.

But the uniforms are wrong. These kids aren’t wearing your school uniform. They’re dressed in plain white—head to toe.

A chill runs down your spine.

You look down at yourself. Your uniform’s still intact: white shirt, blue skirt, tie. No jacket, though. Why the hell didn’t the school provide winter coats? It’s freezing.

Your breath comes out in shaky puffs as you call out for your friends.

Nothing.

The silent students turn to look at you, their blank faces unnerving.

“What are you looking at?” you mutter, backing away instinctively.

Before you realize it, you’re standing in the middle of the field. How did you get here? Your legs feel like they’re moving on their own.

Your mind races. This has to be a nightmare. Right?

Your feet carry you toward the singing room, up the stairs of the two-story building. Maybe it’s your love for music—or the connection you’ve always had with the music teacher—but something about this place feels… safe.

The door to the music room looms in front of you, larger than usual. Slowly, you push it open.

Inside, your teacher sits at the piano, but something is horribly wrong.

He’s completely black. Not in a racial sense—his entire body is an inky void, like a shadow brought to life. The contrast is so stark it makes your chest tighten.

You stagger back, trying to be as silent as possible, but the universe seems to hate you. Your shoe scrapes against the floor.

The shadow turns to face you.

Your breath catches. For a moment, it doesn’t move. Slowly, you back away, step by step, until you’re near the stairs.

And then, it bolts toward you.

Your legs carry you down the stairs, sprinting as fast as they can. The ‘krt krt’ sound of the thing chasing you sends shivers down your spine.

You run across the field, not daring to look back. The students don’t react, as if this is all normal to them.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you collapse onto the stairs, exhaustion seeping into your bones. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shield your face as if it’ll protect you from whatever is coming. The sound of your own ragged breathing fills your ears, but it’s soon overtaken by another noise.

It’s faint at first—a low, guttural growl, followed by the unsettling ‘krt krt’ sound that echoes in your mind. Your chest tightens. You don’t dare look up.

It’s here.

You brace yourself, every nerve in your body screaming for you to move, but your muscles refuse to obey. Your breath catches as the sound grows louder, closer, until you swear you can feel its presence looming over you.

This is it.

And then, it happens.

A sharp, metallic sound slices through the air, followed by an agonized screech that makes your blood run cold. You flinch, instinctively pulling your arms tighter around your head. The screeching stops abruptly, replaced by silence so heavy it feels like the world itself is holding its breath.

When you dare to look up, your eyes widen.

There, standing a few feet away, is someone you’ve never seen before.

The first thing you notice is the knife in his hand—long, sleek, and dripping with blood. The blade glints faintly under the dim light, a cruel contrast to the dark substance staining it.

Then your gaze travels upward.

His silhouette is sharp and commanding, radiating a quiet intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He's tall, with a posture that exudes confidence and danger all at once. But it’s his face that steals your breath away—delicate yet fierce, almost otherworldly. His features are so striking it’s hard to tell if he's beautiful or terrifying.

But the most jarring detail is his hair.

Bright fiery red with black highlights, with contrast to his pale face, the colors clash in a way that should look ridiculous but instead feels hauntingly perfect. The contrast is mesmerizing, drawing your eyes like moths to a flame. You don’t even like red, but on them, it feels… powerful.

He glanced down at the lifeless black figure sprawled across the ground, his expression unreadable. Blood pools beneath it, the deep crimson stark against the pale concrete.

For a moment, it’s like time itself has frozen.

Your savior turns, his piercing gaze finally meeting yours.

It’s only for a second, but it’s enough to knock the air out of your lungs. His eyes—sharp, unyielding—cut through you like the blade they wield. There’s something chilling about the way he looks at you, as if he's staring straight into your soul.

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

Before you can process what’s happening, he turns away.

“Wait!” you call out, scrambling to your feet despite the ache in your legs.

He doesn't stop.

You stumble forward, your mind racing with a thousand questions. Who is he? How did he know you were here? What even was that thing he just killed?

But before you can take another step, something cold wraps around your ankle, yanking you down with a force that sends you crashing to the ground.

The floor wasn’t soft, and neither was your chin. Pain radiated through your jaw as you lay there, groaning. “It hurts like a bitch,” you muttered, clutching your face.

When you glanced down, though, any complaints about the fall evaporated.

There, gripping your ankle, was a dismembered hand.

Cold, pale fingers dug into your skin, unmoving, yet somehow alive.

A guttural scream tore from your throat, raw and uncontrolled. You kicked instinctively, but it held firm. Panic rose, choking you, as you clawed at the ground to pull yourself away.

Before you could react further, like a thunderbolt, the guy reappeared. He raised the blade high and brought it down with a sickening crunch.

Again.

And again.

The hand was reduced to a mushy, unrecognizable mess as he hacked at it relentlessly. Blood splattered across the floor and your legs, and the wet, squelching noise made bile rise in your throat.

“Stop! Stop, it’s gone!” you wanted to scream, but your voice refused to come.

Finally, he crouched down, prying the mangled remains from your ankle. His fingers worked quickly, efficiently, peeling the cold digits away.

He stood up, wiping the blood from his hands on his pants, and turned to leave without a word.

“Wait!”

Your voice cracked, desperate, but it was enough to make him stop.

He froze, mid-step, but didn’t turn around.

Scrambling to your feet, you dusted yourself off and stumbled after him.

“Excuse me, mister!” you called, your voice trembling. “Can you please tell me how to get out of here?”

He turned then, slowly, and his gaze locked onto yours. He was taller than you by at least half a head, and his dark eyes bore an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“You…” His voice was deep, rough around the edges. “How are you talking?”

You blinked. Is he high or something?

“What?”

“And your clothes,” he continued, as if you hadn’t spoken. “They’re different. Have you… escaped the process?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you snapped, your frustration mounting. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Are you from this school?” His tone sharpened, almost accusing. “Answer me.”

“Yes, but—”

Before you could finish, his hand shot out and grabbed your arm.

His grip was like iron, unyielding, and he started dragging you forward without hesitation.

“Hey!” you yelped, tugging at his hand. “Let me go! What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled against his hold. “Listen, mister! I don’t know what’s going on, okay? I just woke up here, and I don’t know what the hell happened! Please, let me go!”

He stopped abruptly, spinning around to face you. His piercing gaze made your stomach churn.

“So…” He spoke slowly, as if piecing something together. “You haven’t been processed.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

His eyes raked over you, up and down.

Did he just check me out? you thought, outraged. Whoop, whoop, that’s the sound of the police!

“Follow me,” he said curtly, turning away.

You stood your ground. “No. How do I know I can trust you?”

He chuckled, the sound low and humorless. “Do you see anyone else here you trust more?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Damn. He had a point.

“My name is San,” he offered. “What’s yours?”

You hesitated.

“It’s fine if you don’t trust me yet,” he added, almost kindly. “But if you want to survive, you’ll follow me.”

Against your better judgment, you nodded. Your questions could wait—surviving took priority.

As you walked behind him, you glanced down at your legs and winced. Blood streaked your socks and shoes, the sticky warmth making your stomach churn.

Noticing your hesitation, San spoke without looking back. “Where’s the nearest bathroom?”

“Huh? Oh, the men’s bathroom is—”

“Does gender matter?” he interrupted. “Just tell me the closest one.”

You sighed and led him to the bathroom in the main building. He pushed the door open and strode inside, heading straight for the sink.

“Come here,” he said, gesturing at the ground in front of him.

You hesitated. “Me?”

“Yes.”

Reluctantly, you stepped closer.

“Take off your shoes and socks,” he instructed.

“What? Why?”

“They’re covered in blood,” he said simply. “And if ‘they’ track us by your bloody footprints?”

You swallowed hard. “who are they?”

His lips quirked, almost amused. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You shook your head, confused and unnerved.

“Take them off,” he said again. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

Grumbling under your breath, you crouched down, slipping off your shoes and socks, your fingers trembling slightly. San grabbed them and rinsed the shoes under the tap.

“The socks are ruined,” he muttered, tossing them aside.

He straightened up and glanced at you. “Wait here.”

Before you could protest, he was gone.

As the silence pressed down on you, the weight of your situation finally hit. You slumped onto the edge of the sink counter, your legs weak.

What if you never got out of here?

“Are you okay?”

San’s voice startled you, and you looked up to see him holding a pair of sneakers.

“They’re not your size, but they’ll have to do,” he said, handing them to you.

You slid off the counter and slipped them on. They were too big, but at least they were clean.

“Let’s go,” he said, heading for the door.

Something about him felt off—his protectiveness, his calm demeanor in the face of chaos. Why was he helping you?

You didn’t know, but for now, you decided to trust him. You didn’t have much of a choice.

San was overjoyed. Even the strongest word for happiness couldn’t capture the overwhelming elation surging through him.

He had found a human. A real, living human—someone other than himself. And not just any human, but a student from the very school they stood in.

Finally, he could go back to his family.

Well, a makeshift family, but a family nonetheless.

A group of people who had taught him that the blood of the covenant truly was thicker than the water of the womb.

He cherished them, loved them, and would do anything to protect them. Most of all, he missed them.

Every fiber of his being screamed for him to grab this girl and force her to unlock the path. He could taste freedom—it was right there within his grasp.

But San was no brute. He prided himself on being patient and calculating. He’d use this girl the right way, ensuring they both got out safely.

Still, a pang of guilt gnawed at him. She wasn’t just a tool; she was just as lost as he was, maybe even more so. Her confusion and fear were written all over her face.

But a man had to do what a man had to do.

“Hongjoong hyung,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible, “I’m coming home. Just wait a little longer.”

The sound of his own voice brought a small chuckle to his lips. Damn, I must sound like a lunatic, talking to myself like this. But it didn’t matter. He had a plan, and nothing would stop him now.

---

I had been walking for what felt like an eternity. Either this guy was playing some elaborate prank on me, or he really did live on the other side of the universe.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, we stopped in front of a room.

I recognized it immediately—this used to be the teachers’ lounge.

Now, though, it looked like he had claimed it as his own.

The room was cluttered but strangely organized. In one corner, several of those stark white uniforms the kids outside were wearing hung in neat rows.

The shelves, once filled with papers and notebooks, were now stocked with weapons and strange equipment I couldn’t identify.

A large table occupied one corner, covered in maps, papers, and a small computer that looked like it had been swiped from the computer lab.

On the opposite side, there was a pile of clothes and a small mattress on the floor. A mattress. Since when did our school have those? Where did he even get it?

“It’s getting late. You should sleep,” he said, his tone casual.

I stayed rooted at the doorway. The thought of sleeping in the same room as a man—a man I had just met—made my skin crawl.

“I don’t want to,” I replied, crossing my arms.

“Okay, then don’t,” he said, shrugging as he made his way to the mattress.

And that was it. Just like that.

Feeling slightly foolish, I shuffled over to a chair by the table and sat down. That’s when I realized just how cold it was. My legs were freezing, and my arms weren’t faring much better.

I curled up in the chair, hugging my knees in a futile attempt to stay warm.

I just wanted to sleep—sleep and maybe never wake up.

“You can wear my jacket,” his voice broke the silence.

Startled, I glanced at him. He wasn’t even looking at me, his arm draped over his eyes as he lay on the mattress.

“Is it washed?” I asked skeptically.

He let out a low chuckle. “Seriously? That’s your first concern? You’re freezing, and you’re worried about whether it’s clean?”

“Well, yeah,” I muttered.

“Do you want it or not?”

“Fine, I’ll take it,” I said, too cold to argue further.

Wrapped in his jacket, I was finally warm. The thick material cocooned me, and the lingering scent of something earthy—him—filled my senses.

It was so comforting that, before I knew it, I had passed out, slumped over the table with my arms folded under my head.

"Bro, I think San has company."

"What the fuck do you mean?"

Inside a makeshift room—cramped and chaotic with tables, equipment, holo screens, and all the clutter that a group of overgrown boys would gather—two figures were hard at work.

One of them, silver-haired and deeply focused, sat hunched over his task. Across the room, a black-haired guy with glasses was multitasking, eating a chocolate bar while working with one hand.

"Geez, stop eating while working, Wooyoung."

"I do what I fucking want, Yunho."

Yunho rolled his eyes, muttering a quiet "whatever" before cupping his hands around his mouth like someone yelling into a canyon.

"I think San has companyyy!" he sang in a childish tone.

Immediately, there was the sound of something crashing. Yunho looked up to see Wooyoung scrambling over boxes to get to him.

“What the fuck do you mean, bro?"

"Don't believe me? Just watch."

Wooyoung peered at the hologram and saw it: a red dot labeled "San," but beside it, another red dot marked "Unknown."

"You think it's a processed kid?" Wooyoung asked hesitantly.

"Doesn't seem like it. If it was processed, San wouldn’t let it stay in his room for long."

"True..."

"Hello, hello."

The two boys turned toward the door, where two figures entered the room. The first, a man with brown hair in a suit, strode in confidently. Behind him, a taller man with black hair streaked with light brown highlights followed, also suited up, both with guns in hand.

"Did you kill them, Mingi?" Yunho asked.

"Ask the maknae."

"For the love of god, hyung, I’m old enough! Stop babying me," the younger one whined, despite his protests sounding anything but mature.

"Jongho-ya, did you kill them like Hongjoong hyung asked?" Wooyoung teased, giggling.

"Yes," Jongho replied proudly.

"Aww, our Jongho’s all grown up! Come here and give hyung a hug!" Wooyoung exclaimed opening his arms and skipping toward the youngest.

"Nuh-uh, hyung. I’ve got a gun in my hand. I will rat ta-ta-ta you up."

"Wooyoung, calm down!" Yunho scolded.

While the three bickered, Mingi moved to the hologram and stared at it.

"Um, I don’t know much about your holo stuff, but I’m pretty sure someone’s in San’s room right now."

The three of them stopped, looking at him in disbelief.

"What? Am I not allowed to be smart?"

"No, it’s not that, hyung. It’s just...you were never smart to begin with," Jongho muttered, earning nods of agreement from Yunho and Wooyoung.

"Wow, the disrespect! I just helped you kill those players!"

"Okay, but jokes aside," Yunho said with urgency, "San really does have someone in his room. Should we tell Hongjoong hyung and Seonghwa hyung?"

"Tell me what?"

Speak of the devil.

Hongjoong entered the room, light brown hair slightly tousled. Though shorter than the others, his aura made it impossible to underestimate him. He was flanked by Seonghwa, the group’s oldest and de facto mom, and Yeosang, who had green hair with black stripes. Although he looked like a Greek statue, his strength is not to be underestimated.

"Tell me what, Yunho?" Hongjoong asked again, his voice firm.

"San has some company," Wooyoung blurted out.

"Ooh, really?" Yeosang chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yes," Yunho confirmed, walking toward the hologram and shooing Mingi aside as the others crowded around him. "If you look at this red dot, you’ll see it says 'Unknown,' which means there’s an unidentified entity with San. It could be someone processed, but honestly, I doubt it. San’s not that reckless."

"I mean, he kinda is," Seonghwa remarked dryly.

"Aren’t you all?" Jongho muttered, earning glares.

"Enough, everyone," Hongjoong commanded. "Let’s focus. Wooyoung, Yunho, can we contact San right now?"

"We could," Wooyoung said hesitantly, "but wouldn’t that alert the other person?"

"Wooyoung," Hongjoong said slowly, "our priority is to ensure San comes back safely, whatever it takes. Let’s not overthink it."

"Okay, then I’ll—"

A sudden piercing sound emanated from the hologram. Yunho’s fingers flew over the controls as he opened a new tab, revealing San’s face. He was trying to contact them.

When San woke up, it was dark outside. He looked around, and the girl was still fast asleep, slumped over the table like a rock.

He walked toward the table and sat across from her, then grabbed the computer and started typing away quickly. He had recently found a way to communicate with his family, but it was only for a limited time.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hello San! Got company?"

Straight to the point, just like his best friend.

"Kinda, yeah."

"Who is it, San?" came the voice of the leader, one of his hyungs.

"A girl."

"OoooOooo—"

"Please shut up wooyoung"

"San, why do you have a random girl in your nook?" Seonghwa, the oldest, asked, his voice stern.

"Hyung, guys... she’s from this school."

A brief silence followed. No one spoke, waiting for their captain's response. Soon, a sinister grin spread across the captain's face, sending an eerie vibe through the room.

"Well, tell me more about her, San."

---

Ugh, I hate waking up.

I stirred awake to the sound of rustling clothes. Looking up, I saw, surprise, surprise, that guy again.

San. I still don’t trust him. At least he didn’t do anything while I was asleep.

He was rummaging through the white outfits stacked in the corner.

He suddenly turned, as if he could sense me watching him. "You should wear this," he said, holding up one of the outfits.

"What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?" I replied, feeling petty.

"Sure, if you want to get attacked by a processed, be my guest." He put the outfit back in its place.

Ever since I met this guy, he’s been going on and on about these “processed” things. What the hell even are they?

"I mean to ask… what is this processed thing you keep mentioning?"

He stared at me for a few seconds, then said, "Wear this. I’ll tell you as we venture out."

---

The outfit turned out to be surprisingly comfy. It was flexible and looked good too.

It was basically a white shirt, with a white jacket and a hood over it, paired with white trousers. Pretty neat.

We were walking down the stairs when he suddenly started speaking.

"This world is a post-apocalyptic world."

Well, that’s one way to start a conversation.

"The government wants to create emotionless puppets to work for them. This world is basically full of puppets—no talking, no expressing, and most importantly..."

I looked at him, waiting. What was he going to say?

"...no music or dance."

If this was a text conversation, I would’ve sent the crickets emoji. There’s no way in hell this man just said that.

"No… music?" I asked, my voice timid.

"Yes, no music. No dance either. My family and I have been trying to bring fun back into this world. But because of some technical issues, I had to stay here."

"So, you’re staying here for a reason?"

"Yes," San said, the lies sliding off his tongue. He didn’t have a choice. To go back, he had to lie. For his plan to work, he had to lie. Did he feel bad? Who knew. The process had almost taken his emotions away, but he escaped at the right time. "And since you’re here alone, why don’t you help me with my task?"

Okay, so he sounds sketchy, but it makes sense. Damn, this is harder than choosing which album to buy, and that shit is hard...

Okay, maybe he’s starting to become a little more tolerable.

"What kind of help?"

"For now, stop being a whiny kid and listen to me."

I take back everything I just said—this guy is still a bitch.

"I’m not whiny."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

I looked around and realized we were on the ground floor, near the gate of the field. It felt so strange to see it so empty.

The emptiness of the field stretched out before you, its silence almost deafening. The once-familiar grounds now felt like a foreign, lifeless expanse, devoid of the chatter, laughter, and energy that used to fill it.

San kept walking ahead, his posture straight and his steps confident, as though he had a destination in mind. You, however, lingered near the gate, staring at the field, a strange ache forming in your chest.

"Keep up," he called over his shoulder, his tone clipped. "We don't have time to waste."

Reluctantly, you followed, your footsteps echoing against the eerily quiet surroundings.

"So," you began, your voice breaking the silence. "This whole 'no music, no dance' thing... It sounds ridiculous. How does anyone even live like that?"

"They don’t. They survive," San replied without looking back.

The words hit harder than you expected. "What do you mean?"

He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes seemed to hold a depth of pain that made your stomach churn.

"I mean exactly that," he said. "The processed aren’t alive. They’re shells of people, controlled, used. No thoughts of their own, no emotions. Just... tools."

You shivered, though it wasn’t cold. "That’s horrifying."

"It is." His voice softened, just slightly. "That’s why my family and I were trying to change things. Music and dance... they’re not just entertainment. They’re freedom. Expression. Resistance."

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. For the first time since meeting him, you saw a glimpse of something more—a passion, a purpose that made him seem less like a cold, calculated stranger and more like someone who truly cared.

"But why you?" you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. "Why stay behind? Why not someone else?"

San hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer.

"It wasn’t supposed to be me," he admitted quietly. "But plans don’t always work out. Someone had to stay, and I was the only one who could.”

San lied straight through his teeth, the words slipping out with practiced ease. But deep down, a twinge of guilt gnawed at him. He hated deceiving you, especially when you looked at him with cautious curiosity, as though weighing whether to believe him.

He justified it to himself—he didn’t have a choice. If he told you the truth, that he was here because of a mishap, because things hadn’t gone according to plan, you’d never trust him. And trust was what he needed from you. Without it, his chances of getting back to his family, his real purpose, would slip away.

So, he buried the guilt and steeled his resolve.

You didn’t notice the flicker of hesitation in his gaze as he spoke, his voice steady and unwavering. "Helping me is the only way to survive here," he said. "Together, we can fix this world, bring back what’s been lost."

He sounded convincing, even to himself. And when you nodded, still wary but willing to listen, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

But as the two of you walked through the quiet expanse, San’s mind drifted back to the faces of his family, their smiles, their laughter. He thought of the nights spent planning, dreaming of a world where music and dance weren’t forbidden.

He clenched his fists. Lying to you wasn’t just for him—it was for them, for everything they were fighting for. He couldn’t afford to feel guilty. Not yet.

San’s mind was racing as he led you through the eerily quiet halls of the school. He knew one thing, which was informed to him prior by the captain. The principal’s office held the item he needed—the key to returning to his realm, to his family. But there was one problem: he couldn’t enter it himself. The rules of this world were annoyingly rigid—only a student or a staff member of the school could access the office.

And that meant he needed you.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye as you followed, your expression a mix of confusion and determination. You had no idea how critical you were to his plan. Yet, despite his guilt over using you, there was no other choice.

“The principal’s office…” he began, breaking the silence. “Do you even know where it is?”

You nod your head.

San looked relieved “That'll make things easy”

You look at him, gesturing around. “Half of here looks like it’s been taken over by… whatever you call those things.”

“Processed,” San corrected. “And they’ll make reaching the office more complicated.”

You stopped walking, folding your arms as suspicion flickered in your eyes. “Why do you even need to go there? What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

He hesitated, weighing his words carefully. “It’s something that could help us. Something that might give us a chance to survive in this place.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

After a few minutes of standing in silence he breaks it “We need to go somewhere to get a little information first. It's for me if you're wondering”

“Library, maybe?” you suggested.

“Good idea,” he agreed. “But the library is likely crawling with processed. We’ll have to be careful.”

The path to the library wasn’t easy. Shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally along the walls, and faint, distorted murmurs echoed through the corridors. San moved with sharp, calculated precision, motioning for you to stay close.

At one point, you almost stepped on a loose tile, but San’s arm shot out, pulling you back just as a processed shuffled by, its vacant eyes scanning the hall. The two of you froze, your breath shallow as you pressed against the wall.

The position was simply vulnerable. San’s back pressed against the wall, while yours was pressed against his chest. His one hand wrapped tightly around the front of your shoulders. Another hand held onto the knife.

Once the danger passed, you whispered, “How do you know so much about avoiding them?”

San hesitated for a moment, then replied smoothly, “I’ve been here long enough to learn their patterns. Stick with me, and you’ll be fine.”

Finally, you reached the library. The massive double doors loomed before you, slightly ajar. Inside, the faint glow of flickering lights revealed rows of dusty shelves and scattered books.

But you both knew it wouldn’t be that simple. San stepped forward, scanning the room. “Stay alert,” he warned. “The processed aren’t the only thing to worry about in places like this.”

“What else is there?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s hope we don’t find out,” he muttered, his hand subtly resting on the dagger strapped to his side.

The moment you entered, the library twisted into a neon-lit maze of mirrors, the air turned cold, suffocating, like the maze itself was alive and hostile. The mirrors stretched endlessly, reflecting an infinite number of you—and none of them felt right.

“San?” you called out, panic lacing your voice.

No response.

“SAN!” This time, your voice cracked, raw and desperate.

Then you heard it—a low, guttural hiss, like the sound of something primal awakening. Your heart leapt to your throat as a shadow shifted in the reflection, something dark and unnatural slithering behind the glass.

The black void creatures emerged, their shapeless forms twisting grotesquely as they crawled from the reflections into your reality. Their hollow, inky eyes locked onto you with an intensity that froze your blood.

Your legs moved before your mind could catch up, adrenaline flooding your system. You bolted down the corridor of mirrors, each step echoing with a deafening clarity. The neon lights flickered erratically, casting jagged shadows of the creatures chasing you.

Behind you, the whispers started—low, distorted murmurs that seemed to claw at your sanity. They grew louder, overlapping, forming a cacophony of voices that sent shivers down your spine.

The maze twisted and shifted with every step you took, the mirrors rearranging themselves as if mocking your attempt to escape. You turned a corner and nearly collided with a reflection of yourself. But it wasn’t you—it was something else, something hollow-eyed and smiling eerily.

You screamed and turned the other way, but the creatures were gaining on you, their movements unnaturally fluid, like shadows dragged against their will.

“SAN!” you screamed, your voice cracking as tears streamed down your face.

“I’m here!” His voice rang out, faint and distant, but it was there.

Your chest heaved as you pushed forward, your feet pounding against the mirrored floor. You glanced back and instantly regretted it. The creatures were right behind you, their forms flickering and writhing like living nightmares. One of them lunged, its clawed appendage slicing through the air just inches from your shoulder.

A burst of neon light blinded you as you stumbled forward, crashing into a mirrored wall. The surface rippled under your touch, distorting your reflection. You turned, back pressed against the glass, as the creatures closed in.

The largest of them, a towering mass of void and shadow, loomed over you. Its hollow eyes burned with a hunger you couldn’t comprehend. Its whispers turned into a deafening roar as it lunged.

“NO!” you screamed, bracing for the impact.

But then the mirror behind you shattered, and an arm shot through the jagged shards, yanking you back with a force that knocked the breath out of you.

You tumbled to the ground, landing hard on the other side of the mirror. The air was different here, colder but less oppressive.

“Got you,” San’s voice came, low and fierce. His grip on your wrist was unyielding, and his eyes burned with determination.

“San!” you gasped, tears blurring your vision.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, his tone sharp and commanding.

The creatures weren’t done. They began slipping through the shattered mirror, their forms reforming with a horrifying fluidity. San pulled you to your feet, his gaze darting around, calculating.

“We’re not safe yet,” he said, his voice tight. “Run!”

He pulled you along as the creatures poured into the new corridor, their shrieks echoing through the maze. You ran as fast as you could, San leading the way, his grip never faltering.

Suddenly, you both turned a corner and saw it—a door at the far end of the maze. Relief surged through you, but your hope was quickly dashed. The door wasn’t ordinary; it was made entirely of thick, reinforced glass.

San stopped beside you, his face set in grim determination. "We’re almost there. Keep moving!" he barked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along.

The creatures shrieked behind you, their distorted forms growing closer with every second. You both skidded to a halt in front of the glass door, and San quickly examined it.

“It’s locked!” you gasped, panic rising in your throat.

“Not for long,” San muttered.

“Huh?”

Without hesitation, he stepped back, his fists clenching. Then, with a guttural yell, he slammed his fist into the glass. A web of cracks splintered across its surface, but it didn’t shatter.

The creatures were nearly upon you, their whispers turning into a deafening roar. San didn’t stop. He struck the glass again, this time with everything he had, and the door exploded into shards with a thunderous crash.

“Go!” he shouted, grabbing you by the waist.

“Wait—what are you—”

Before you could protest, San lifted you effortlessly and hurled you through the opening. You landed on the other side with a thud, scrambling to your feet just in time to see him climb up the jagged edges of the broken door, the neon lights behind him casting an almost heroic glow around his figure.

San leapt through, landing in a crouch beside you as the creatures clawed at the shattered remains of the glass. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up.

“Run,” he commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Together, you sprinted away from the maze, the sounds of the creatures fading behind you as the two of you finally escaped its horrifying grasp.

Both of you stumbled out of the maze, panting heavily. The moment your feet hit solid ground, the mirrors behind you shimmered and collapsed inward, dissolving into nothingness. The silence that followed was deafening, the only sound being the ragged rhythm of your breathing.

San slammed his fist against the nearest wall, his jaw clenched tight. “Damn it! We failed!” His voice echoed through the empty library.

You flinched at his tone, but you didn’t blame him. After everything you had been through, it was hard to come to terms with failure.

San ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. “All of that, and we still don’t know what I needed to know. We’re wasting time we don’t have!” His eyes darkened, a rare glimpse of despair flashing through them.

You were about to try and console him when something caught your attention—a slight weight in your pocket that wasn’t there before. Your hand slipped inside, and your fingers brushed against the edges of a piece of paper.

“What the…” you murmured, pulling it out. It was old, almost fragile, the edges yellowed as if it had existed for decades. Strange symbols and scrawled writing adorned its surface.

“San,” you called softly. He didn’t respond, too busy pacing angrily.

“San,” you repeated, more firmly this time.

“What?” he snapped, turning to you, his eyes sharp.

You held up the paper. “I found this in my pocket.”

His expression shifted from irritation to confusion. He stepped closer, snatching the paper from your hand and scanning it quickly. His eyes widened as he read, his grip on the paper tightening.

“This… this is it,” he breathed, almost disbelieving.

“What is it?” you asked, peering over his shoulder.

San pointed to a phrase written in bold near the bottom of the page: “The Key to Realms: Chromer.”

“It says the key we’re looking for isn’t a traditional key. It’s a sand clock,” San explained, his voice filled with sudden urgency. “A sand clock called Chromer. And it’s in the principal’s office.”

Your brows furrowed. “A sand clock? Why would something like that be the key to anything?”

“It’s not just any sand clock,” San replied, his tone deadly serious. “The Chromer is a relic that connects dimensions. It’s what I need to go back to my realm. This is the information we were searching for.”

You both stared at the paper, the weight of its significance settling over you.

“But how did it get in my pocket?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

San shook his head, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know. Someone—or something—wanted us to have this. Whatever force controls this place isn’t done with us yet.”

The two of you exchanged a glance, the reality of the situation sinking in. The journey was far from over. If anything, it had just begun.

The hallways stretched endlessly ahead, dim and cold, as if life had been sucked out of the building. The air felt heavier with every step, and the faint echoes of your hurried footsteps reverberated eerily. San walked ahead, his shoulders tense but his movements calculated and sure.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop glancing nervously over your shoulder. The memory of those void-like attackers from the maze haunted you, and your gut told you they weren’t done yet.

“Stay close,” San said over his shoulder, his voice low.

You nodded, clutching your jacket tighter as if it could shield you. Suddenly, a shiver ran down your spine—an unnatural chill that made your skin prickle. Before you could react, a guttural sound tore through the silence.

They were back.

Out of the shadows, black void-like figures materialized, their featureless forms surging toward you. But this time, something was off. They weren’t even glancing at San. All their focus was on you.

“San!” you screamed, backing up instinctively.

San turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. “Why the hell are they only after you?” he muttered, stepping in front of you.

One of the figures lunged, and he swatted it away effortlessly with his arm. “Just stay behind me!”

“I’m trying!” you yelled, dodging another swipe from one of the creatures.

Despite his best efforts, they kept finding ways around him, their movements unnervingly quick and calculated. San could only defend so much, and his frustration was mounting.

“You need to fight back!” he barked, slashing through one of the attackers with a weapon he’d conjured from seemingly nowhere.

“I don’t know how to fight!” you snapped, ducking as another creature swiped at your head. Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of your chest.

“Then run smarter!” San shouted, his voice strained. “Don’t just run blindly—watch their movements!”

Easy for him to say. You scrambled to your feet after nearly tripping over yourself, your breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. The creatures weren’t slowing down. One lunged at you from the side, and you barely managed to dodge, crashing against the wall.

“Damn it!” San growled. He lunged forward, grabbed your arm, and yanked you toward him. “Stay close—closer!”

He practically dragged you down the hallway, his speed making it hard for you to keep up. His movements were fluid, each strike precise as he knocked away the attackers that got too close.

Still, they came.

Another void-like figure lunged directly at you, faster than the others. You couldn’t move in time. But just as its claws were about to reach you, San spun around, shielding you with his body. The creature’s attack hit him squarely in the back.

San didn’t even flinch.

“San!” you gasped.

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, slashing the creature to nothingness. “But you won’t be if you don’t stop being a damn target.”

“I’m not trying to be a target!” you shot back, the fear making your voice crack.

San sighed heavily, glancing at the path ahead. “We’re almost there. You just have to survive a little longer.”

“That’s not very comforting!” you hissed.

He didn’t respond, instead focusing on cutting a path through the swarm of attackers. The principal’s office was just up ahead, its door faintly illuminated like a beacon.

“Run!” he commanded, pushing you forward.

With every ounce of strength you had, you sprinted toward the door. The attackers closed in, but San was right behind you, clearing a path and yelling for you to keep moving.

You reached the door, slamming your hands against its cold surface. It wouldn’t budge.

“It’s locked!” you shouted, panic surging.

“Move!” San barked, his voice sharp. He didn’t hesitate, driving his fist into the glass pane. It shattered instantly, the shards spraying everywhere. Without a second thought, he gripped you around the waist and hoisted you up.

“Go through!” he demanded, lifting you through the broken opening and onto the other side.

You scrambled over, your heart still racing. San quickly followed, vaulting through the broken glass. He landed beside you, his chest heaving.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the chaos behind you finally falling silent. Then San glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“You’re alive,” he said simply, his tone more relieved than he let on.

“Barely,” you muttered, collapsing against the wall.

He smirked faintly, brushing glass dust off his clothes. “Good enough.”

Your legs felt like jelly, your lungs burned from the constant running, and every part of you was screaming to stop. The fear, the chaos—it was all too much. You pressed your back against the wall, glaring at San as he dusted himself off like nothing had happened.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you snapped, your voice trembling with exhaustion and frustration. “This is insane, San! I’m not some fighter, I’m just... I’m just a student who got stuck in this nightmare!”

San turned to you, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, as if weighing his words.

“I didn’t ask for this either,” he finally said, his voice calm but firm. “But we don’t have a choice. You’re my only shot at fixing this mess, and I’m your only shot at surviving it.”

You scoffed, throwing up your hands. “Great pep talk, really. But I’m done, San. I can’t keep running and almost dying every five minutes!”

Instead of arguing, he pulled out his watch. The faint, flickering blue light of the device illuminated his face as he fiddled with it.

“What are you doing now?” you asked, exasperated.

“Calling my family,” he said simply, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

The watch buzzed faintly, then a holographic screen popped up, displaying blurry but familiar faces. You recognized one of them immediately—the leader, Hongjoong, with his sharp eyes and commanding presence.

“San,” Hongjoong’s voice came through, clear and steady. “You’re still alive.”

“Barely,” San muttered, glancing at you. “I’ve got her with me. We made it out of the maze, but things are getting worse. The attackers are targeting her now.”

“Why her?” Seonghwa’s voice chimed in, his tone calm but laced with concern.

“I don’t know,” San admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s making everything ten times harder.”

Another voice cut in—Wooyoung’s. “Maybe she’s got something they want? Or maybe she just smells like fresh prey.”

“Wooyoung, not helpful,” Yunho interjected.

You felt scared. Being in the mercy of these unknown and certainly shady men. He can do whatever he wants to you. It all came down like a mirror shattering. Ironic

“Look,” San continued, ignoring the bickering, “we’re on our way to the principal’s office. We think the key—the Chromer—is there. But it’s getting harder to move without drawing attention.”

“You need to keep her safe, San,” Hongjoong said, his voice firm but an underlying meaning present. “Whatever it takes.”

San’s jaw tightened. “I know that, hyung.”

You sat quietly, watching the exchange. It was clear that these people weren’t just his team—they were his family, and their concern for him was genuine.

“San,” a new voice broke in, deeper and more commanding. It was Jongho. “Do you think she can handle it?”

San glanced at you, his eyes searching your face. “She’ll have to.”

Your heart sank at his words. He wasn’t wrong, but the weight of it felt crushing. You wanted to argue, to tell them all that you weren’t cut out for this. But something about the way San looked at you—determined yet oddly reassuring—made you hold your tongue.

“Stay in contact,” Hongjoong said. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

The hologram flickered and disappeared, leaving you and San in the dim light of the hallway.

He slipped the watch back onto his wrist and turned to you. “I know this is hard,” he said quietly, his voice softer than before. “But we’re almost there. Just a little longer, okay?”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt. But all you saw was determination—and maybe, just maybe, a hint of trust.

“Fine,” you muttered, pushing yourself off the wall. “But if I die, I’m haunting you forever.”

San smirked faintly. “Fair deal.”

As San and you finally found the door to the principal's office, you both stopped in front of it. The door was large, dark, and imposing, a heavy weight hanging in the air as you both stared at it.

San’s eyes locked onto you, his face tense. “You need to go in there. The Chromer is in that office, and it’s the only thing that can get me back to my realm. You have to do this.”

You hesitated, feeling the fear creep into your chest. “I... I can’t, San. What if something happens to me in there? I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not like you. I can’t fight.”

San’s frustration was palpable, his fists clenching as his tone grew more urgent. “We don’t have time for hesitation. You have to go in there and get it. Do you understand?”

You took a step back, heart pounding. “I can’t do it. I’m not strong enough. I’ve never been strong enough.”

Before San could reply, the watch on his wrist buzzed, and Hongjoong’s calm voice came through.

“Hey,” Hongjoong said, his tone reassuring yet firm, “we know you’re scared. But you have to do this. San needs you.”

Next, Seonghwa spoke up, his voice gentle but steady. “You might not think you’re strong, but you are. You’ve already done more than most people could ever imagine. You’ve come this far, haven’t you? That’s strength.”

You felt a sense of warmth from their words, but the fear still held you tight. Then you heard Jongho’s voice, clear and strong, cutting through the fog of doubt in your mind.

“Listen to me,” Jongho said, his voice carrying that same unwavering confidence. “You’re not alone. We’re all right here, cheering you on. I know it’s scary, but I believe in you. We all do.”

A slight shift in San’s demeanor caught your attention as he stared at you. His frustration softened, replaced by a look of understanding.

"Jongho's right," San added, his voice quieter now, tinged with sincerity. “I wouldn’t be asking you if I didn’t believe in you too. You’ve got this.”

The weight of their words, their unwavering belief in you, was enough to start dissolving the fear. You didn’t want to disappoint them—especially not San.

Yeosang’s voice cut in next, surprising in its warmth. “You’re stronger than you think. You can do this. We’re right here with you. One step at a time. Just trust yourself.”

Mingi chimed in with his usual confidence, “And if you need any backup, we’ve got your back. We’re with you every step of the way.”

Wooyoung added his usual teasing tone, “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, trust me. Now go show us what you’ve got.”

With each of their voices echoing in your mind, you felt the weight of your fear start to lift. You weren’t alone in this. They were all behind you.

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage you didn’t even know you had. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice steadier than before. “I’ll do it. I’ll go in.”

San’s expression softened, a quiet gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

You gave him a small nod, looking back at the door. The fear was still there, but now there was determination too. You weren’t just doing this for yourself—you were doing it for San and his family. And that made all the difference.

You stepped up to the door, your hand shaking slightly as you reached for the cold handle. Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned it, pushing the door open slowly. With one last glance at San, you stepped into the unknown, ready to face whatever waited inside.

San and you stood in front of the principal’s office. It looked imposing, with dark, heavy wooden doors that had a strange energy about them. The air felt thick, as if something was lurking just beyond those doors.

San, his face tense with anticipation, turned to you. “You have to go in. We don’t have time to waste.”

You took a step back, shaking your head. “I can’t... What if something happens to me? What if I get caught?” Your heart raced, fear creeping up your spine. You didn’t want to be the weak link, but the thought of stepping into that office alone was overwhelming.

San’s jaw clenched, frustration flickering in his eyes. His patience, usually so steady, was starting to crack. “We don’t have a choice! You’re the only one who can get in there. You’re the student. I’m not allowed in.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you muttered, looking away, unable to meet his gaze.

The tension in the air thickened. San’s hands clenched at his sides, his fingers twitching as if he was on the verge of snapping. But before he could say anything, his watch buzzed to life, and the voice of his captain echoed in the silence.

“San, calm down,” Hongjoong’s voice came through, cool and authoritative. “Let her breathe. You know she’s scared.”

San’s eyes hardened as he spoke through clenched teeth. “But we need this, hyung. We can’t afford to fail now.”

“I know,” Hongjoong responded. “But you can’t push her. You’ve trained with her, you know what she’s capable of. Give her a moment. We can’t force her to go in, but we can help her understand why it’s important.”

San's gaze softened slightly as he looked at you, seeing the fear written all over your face. He let out a slow breath and then spoke, his tone more gentle this time. “Look, I know it’s terrifying. But you’re not alone. We’re all here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. You just have to trust me, and trust yourself.”

You felt the weight of his words, but still, doubt lingered in your mind. “What if it’s too dangerous?”

Hongjoong’s voice came again, more insistent. “It is dangerous, but do you want to know what’s even more dangerous? The alternative. We don’t know how much time we have. You’re the key to all of this, and you can’t let fear stand in the way now.”

San stepped closer, his eyes unwavering. “We’ll get through this together. But you need to go in. Do it for us. For you. And for what’s right.”

You hesitated, but then San’s words sunk in. He was right. The fear that had held you back was still there, but so was the determination. You had come this far. You couldn’t turn back now.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

San’s expression softened with relief, but there was a hint of pride in his eyes. “Thank you.” He stepped back, his eyes fixed on the door. “I’ll be right here. Just get what we need.”

With a final look at him, you reached for the door handle, your fingers trembling slightly as you pushed it open. The darkness inside was almost suffocating, but you stepped in, ready to face whatever came next.

As the door clicked shut behind you, you could hear San’s voice, faint but comforting, echoing through the hallway. “You’ve got this.”

You pushed the door open, the sound of it creaking in the silence. Inside, the room was dimly lit, with rows of old bookshelves lining the walls. A desk stood in the center, cluttered with papers and objects that looked ancient and important. The air felt heavy with a strange energy, the kind that made your skin tingle and your heart race.

Your eyes scanned the room, and that’s when you saw it—the sand clock, sitting on a pedestal in the far corner. The chromer. It glowed faintly, its sands moving impossibly slow inside the glass.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath as you walked towards it. Each step felt like it was pulling you deeper into the unknown. This was it. This was the key. You could feel its power, like it was calling to you, urging you to take it.

You reached the pedestal, hesitating for just a moment. Was this really happening? Was this how you were going to help San? You had no idea how this sand clock worked, but you didn’t have a choice. You picked it up gently, feeling the cool glass under your fingers. The sand inside swirled, almost like it had a life of its own.

Just as you turned to leave, you heard a faint creak of the floor behind you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you spun around, instinctively clutching the chromer tighter. But it was only the wind. There was no one else in the room, nothing to worry about—at least, for now.

You breathed a sigh of relief and made your way back to the door, keeping a sharp eye on the room around you. With one final glance at the sand clock in your hands, you pushed open the door and stepped out.

San was standing there, his back to the wall, waiting. His expression softened when he saw you holding the chromer. Without a word, he walked towards you, his hand outstretched.

“We did it,” you said, holding it out to him.

San nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes were full of concern. “You’re alright?”

You nodded back, still a little shaken but relieved to be out of there. “I’m fine.”

He reached for the chromer, taking it from your hands. As his fingers brushed against it, he let out a quiet sigh, as if the weight of the moment had finally caught up with him. “This is it,” he said softly. “With this, I can go back.”

You both stood in the hallway, the weight of your mission heavy in the air. It wasn’t over yet, but at least you had what you came for.

San gave you a long look, his eyes filled with gratitude. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

San’s arms suddenly wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. You gasped, your heart racing as you instinctively tried to push away, but his grip was firm, secure.

“Wait—San!” you stammered, panic rising in your chest. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”

His smile was wide, his eyes shining with pure relief and joy. “We did it,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m not letting you go yet. You helped me get this, and you’re going to be safe with me.”

You squirmed slightly in his arms, but the more you tried to pull away, the tighter his grip seemed to become. The sensation of being carried—of someone else having complete control over you—was overwhelming, and you couldn’t quite figure out why it made you feel so vulnerable. You had always been independent, had always taken care of yourself. No one had ever carried you before.

“San, I—” You trailed off, trying to calm your racing thoughts. His steady heartbeat echoed against your back, reminding you how close you were to him. “Please, I’m not used to this.”

He slowed his pace slightly, as if sensing your discomfort, but he didn’t stop. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Despite his words, a knot of unease twisted in your stomach. Your chest tightened, and your hands instinctively gripped his jacket, as if trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t explain it—the way he was holding you felt so... foreign. So intimate.

You swallowed, attempting to push the discomfort aside, but the fear still lingered. The feeling of being completely at his mercy, so exposed in his arms, made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

“San, I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice small.

His steps faltered, and he looked down at you, his expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll get you to safety.”

But the truth was, you weren’t just scared of being in his arms—you were scared of what this might mean. You weren’t sure how to handle the feeling of being cared for, of being protected in such an overwhelming way.

You didn’t know what to say, how to react to all of it, so instead, you stayed quiet, allowing him to carry you. You didn’t want to seem weak, didn’t want to burden him with your confusion.

And yet, despite your unease, a part of you felt comforted by his hold. Part of you felt... safe.

San adjusted his jacket as he stood in the middle of the chromer's glowing circle. The energy buzzed around him, and his mind was calm yet excited. This was the moment he'd been planning for days. He was going to ensure everything was set right — that you would go back to your world, and he would return to his with his friends.

As the chromer activated, the world blurred and spun, the familiar hum of its power resonating in his chest. Then, everything stopped abruptly. He felt solid ground beneath his feet, and as his vision cleared, a grin spread across his face.

He was back. The comforting sight of his realm and his friends standing nearby filled him with relief. "Finally," he muttered, stepping forward. But then, a small movement behind him made him freeze.

He turned his head slowly, and there you were, standing wide-eyed and just as disoriented as him. San’s smile faltered, replaced by a mix of confusion and disbelief. His friends, who had started to approach him with cheers of welcome, suddenly stopped in their tracks. Their gazes darted between him and you, their expressions mirroring the bewilderment in his heart.

“San…” Wooyoung was the first to break the silence, his tone tinged with disbelief. "Who’s… she?"

San opened his mouth, closed it again, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here. He had been sure the chromer would teleport you back to your world, far away from his chaotic reality. But somehow, you were here, standing in his realm, right next to him.

“I—uh—this wasn’t supposed to happen,” San stammered, glancing at you and then at his friends.

You looked at him, your voice soft but steady despite the strangeness of it all. “San… why am I here?”

Before he could answer, Yunho stepped forward, his tall frame imposing but his tone kind. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me this is the girl you’ve been talking about?” He gave San a knowing look, a sly smirk tugging at his lips.

San groaned inwardly. “Yes, but—listen, this wasn’t the plan. She wasn’t supposed to come here.”

“Well, she’s here now,” Seonghwa chimed in, crossing his arms. His gaze flickered to you, assessing but not unkind. “What are you going to do about it?”

San’s mind raced. He turned to you, his tone softening. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how this happened. I thought the chromer would send you back to your world.”

You blinked, taking a hesitant step closer to him. “So… this is your world? Your realm?”

San nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. He could see the questions swirling in your eyes, but what caught him off guard was the faint flicker of awe. You weren’t panicking; instead, you were looking around with cautious curiosity.

“Okay, hold up,” Wooyoung interrupted, stepping between the two of you with a playful grin. “This is kind of amazing. She’s here, Sannie. Isn’t that… good?”

San shot him a glare. “That’s not the point.”

“So what are we gonna do now?” Mingi piped up, his voice heavy. He gestured at you dramatically, “we have a child with us”

You look at him with an offended face “I'm not a child. Just because you got an extra 1ft up your butt doesn't mean I'm a child”

San sighed, rubbing his temples. This was a problem. But atleast his friends were enjoying this more than they should, but deep down, a part of him couldn’t deny the strange sense of relief. You were here. With him. It wasn’t what he had planned, but maybe… just maybe, this wasn’t a bad thing.

“I don't know,” San muttered, glancing at you. “You’re here now. We’ll figure this out together.”

“i don't trust any of you, just take me somewhere safe”

San flinched slightly at your blunt tone. His friends exchanged amused glances, but there was a hint of curiosity in their eyes as they sized you up.As you walked, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of their gazes—some curious, others amused—but it was San's quiet presence beside you that gave you a strange sense of reassurance. Maybe, just maybe, you could trust him. For now.

"Safe?" Wooyoung echoed, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "You wounded me! We are the definition of safe."

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure. If safe means being surrounded by a bunch of guys who probably argue over who gets the last slice of pizza."

Wooyoung gasped in mock outrage while Yunho let out a deep chuckle. "She’s not wrong," Yunho admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

"Guys, can we focus?" San snapped, rubbing his temples again. He turned to you, his expression softening despite the frustration evident in his voice. "Look, I understand this is overwhelming. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But I promise, no one here is going to hurt you. You’re safe with us."

You glanced around at the group, noting the mix of playful energy and genuine care in their faces. Still, the situation felt too surreal, and trust wasn’t something you handed out easily.

"Fine," you said reluctantly, though your posture remained guarded. "But if anyone tries anything funny, I’ll…" You trailed off, looking down at your empty hands. "I’ll… figure something out," you finished awkwardly.

Seonghwa smirked, his voice calm and teasing. "Noted. No funny business."

Behind you, Mingi whispered loudly to Jongho, "She’s feisty. I like her."

San shot him a glare over his shoulder. "Not helping, Mingi."

Hongjoong and yeosang, who had been quietly observing from the back, finally decided to chime in.

Hongjoong adjusted his captain’s hat and gave a dramatic sigh. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, stepping forward and crossing his arms. “San accidentally brought you here, and now we’re babysitting?”

"Not a child," you snapped again, glaring at him.

Yeosang tilted his head, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the chaos around him. “She has a point,” he said simply. “But the bigger question is, what are we going to do now? We don’t even know how she fits into this.”

You frowned, feeling like you were being talked about like some kind of puzzle piece. “I’m standing right here, you know. Maybe ask me instead of acting like I’m some sort of problem.”

San sighed, clearly at his wit’s end. “Hongjoong, Yeosang, can we not make this worse? She’s already stressed out enough.”

“Worse?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “You mean worse than accidentally dragging someone into our realm? Yeah, okay, San, sure. Not worse at all.”

Yeosang shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Well, she’s here now. Might as well make the best of it.”

You glanced between them, trying to gauge if they were as unpredictable as the others. "Are these two always this cryptic?" you asked, pointing at Hongjoong and Yeosang.

“Cryptic?” Yeosang repeated, almost amused. “No. I’d say I’m more… realistic.”

“And I’m the strategist,” Hongjoong added, smirking. “Which is why I’m asking the important questions. Like what exactly you plan to do while you’re here.”

You sighed, exasperated. “I didn’t plan anything! I didn’t ask to be here!”

San, sensing the tension rising again, stepped in quickly. “Okay, that’s enough. We can figure everything out once we’ve all calmed down.”

Hongjoong shrugged, falling back into step with the group. “Fair enough. But don’t think I’m letting this slide, San. We’re going to need answers.”

Yeosang gave you a small nod, his calm gaze meeting yours. “You’ll be fine. We’re not as bad as we look.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, but something about Yeosang’s steady demeanor was oddly comforting. Still, as you followed the group deeper into the unknown, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much bigger.

The tent was much larger on the inside than it seemed, a testament to the strange realm you’d been dragged into. The small room San and Wooyoung led you to was simple but cozy—there was a bed with neatly folded blankets, a small wooden table, and a lantern casting a soft glow across the space.

“Here,” San said, gesturing toward the bed. “It’s not much, but you’ll be comfortable.”

Wooyoung grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Don’t get used to the royal treatment, though. We’re only doing this because someone—” he threw a pointed look at San, “—messed up.”

San rolled his eyes, clearly ignoring Wooyoung’s jab. “Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”

The two of them left, closing the door behind them. You sat on the edge of the bed, sighing as the muffled voices of the group reached you. They were having a meeting about you, their tones ranging from curious to concerned.

It was only then that you noticed something odd about this room. It felt… lived in. A small detail here, a personal touch there. Then it hit you—this was San’s room.

The realization was confirmed when you heard Wooyoung loudly teasing San outside.

“You’re really giving up your room for her? You’re softer than I thought,” Wooyoung said, cackling.

“Shut up,” San replied, sounding exasperated. “I brought her here. It’s my responsibility to make sure she’s okay.”

“You could’ve just given her my room,” Mingi’s voice chimed in, indignant.

“No way,” San shot back. “She’s my problem. I’ll crash with Yeosang.”

“I didn't ask for this, why does my consent not matter?”

Everyone ignored yeosang.

You blinked, surprised by the admission. He was going out of his way to make you comfortable, even at his own expense. Despite everything, a small part of you felt… touched.

Back in the main area, the conversation continued.

“So, what’s the plan?” Hongjoong asked, his voice sharp and commanding.

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” San said firmly. “She’s been through enough for one day.”

“You’re taking this pretty seriously,” Yeosang observed, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity.

“Because I’m the one who messed up,” San replied.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was strange being in this world, surrounded by people who were so different yet oddly familiar. You couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last—and what San’s words really meant.

As the muffled voices outside the room grew louder, it became apparent that San's friends were thoroughly enjoying the situation at his expense.

You soon realised that wooyoung guy would not leave San alone about the fact that he has brought you here.

"San," Wooyoung's teasing tone cut through the chatter, "what’s the deal with you and the girl, huh? She gets your room and your undivided attention. Should we start planning a wedding?”

San groaned audibly, likely rubbing his temples again. "Wooyoung, shut up."

Mingi jumped in with a laugh. "Nah, but seriously, you’re awfully protective, don’t you think? I’ve never seen you this flustered."

“Maybe San has a crush,” Seonghwa chimed in, his usually composed voice dripping with amusement.

“I do not have a crush,” San snapped. "I’m just trying to fix my mistake. That’s it."

Hongjoong chuckled, crossing his arms. "You know, San, your ‘mistake’ is starting to feel less like an accident and more like fate."

Even Yeosang, who rarely joined in on teasing, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You did seem pretty quick to give up your room for her. Very... gallant of you.”

Jongho grinned, leaning back against the tent wall. "Should we be worried? What if this becomes a thing? Next thing we know, he’s ditching missions to hang out with her."

“Guys,” San groaned, his voice rising in frustration, “I swear, if you don’t stop—”

“San and the mystery girl sitting in a tree—” Wooyoung started singing obnoxiously, only to be interrupted by Seonghwa laughing so hard he had to lean on Mingi for support.

“Alright, enough!” San finally snapped, his face undoubtedly red from a mix of anger and embarrassment. “She’s not a child, she’s not my crush, and she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just—she’s here because of me, okay? I’m taking responsibility!”

His declaration only earned him a chorus of exaggerated "ooohs" and smirks from his friends.

“Whatever you say, Romeo,” Hongjoong said, winking.

From inside the room, you couldn’t help but overhear every word. You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. These guys might’ve been a handful, but there was something oddly comforting about the way they teased San. And for some reason, knowing he was defending you—even against his friends—made your heart flutter just a little.

The next morning, the sound of a light knock on the door pulled you from sleep. As you groggily opened your eyes, Jongho stood at the entrance, arms crossed, his usual stoic expression softening ever so slightly.

“Get up,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “I’m in charge of you today. San’s orders. We’re starting with shooting practice.”

Still half-asleep, you blinked at him. “Shooting?”

Jongho nodded, walking over to a corner where a small handgun rested in a holster. “This world isn’t safe. You need to know how to defend yourself. If you’re going to stick around, you can’t be useless.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you muttered under your breath, dragging yourself out of bed.

Once outside, Jongho led you to an open field near the camp, where targets had been set up against a cluster of trees. He handed you the gun, explaining the basics of safety and handling in his usual no-nonsense manner.

“Okay,” he said, stepping back. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Aim at the target.”

You took a deep breath, gripping the gun tightly and lining up the shot. To your surprise—and his—you hit the target on your first try.

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Not bad,” he admitted, a flicker of surprise in his tone. “But your stance is all wrong. You’re gripping it too hard, and your feet are too close together.”

Before you could react, you fired again. This time, the recoil sent you stumbling backward, nearly losing your balance. Jongho caught you by the arm, steadying you with ease.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” he said, his expression softening just a little. “You’ve got good aim, but if you don’t fix your posture, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

He stepped closer, adjusting your grip and positioning your arms with surprising patience. His hands were firm but careful as he guided you.

“Feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed, nudging your leg with his boot. “And don’t lock your elbows. Let the gun’s recoil flow through you, not against you.”

You followed his instructions, firing again. This time, the shot landed perfectly, and you barely felt the recoil.

Jongho nodded approvingly. “Better. Keep practicing like that, and you might actually survive out here.”

A small smile crept onto your lips. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

As the morning went on, the two of you continued practicing. While Jongho’s usual stoicism remained, you couldn’t help but notice the faint glimmer of pride in his eyes every time you improved. Despite his tough exterior, there was something reassuring about his presence, and for the first time, you felt like you could truly hold your own in this strange, dangerous world.

Later that day, as the group gathered around their makeshift campfire, Jongho casually brought up the morning’s events.

“She’s good at aiming,” he said simply, crossing his arms as he leaned back against a log.

Yunho immediately seized the opportunity, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin. “Oh, I bet she is. She already pierced San’s heart.”

The group erupted into laughter, a mix of playful jabs and exaggerated gasps.

“Classic Yunho,” Mingi chuckled, nudging San with his elbow. “You gonna deny it?”

To everyone’s surprise, San didn’t snap back or brush it off like he usually did. Instead, he glanced down at the fire, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“I—” he started, but then shook his head, letting out a small, almost shy laugh. “I’m not even going to argue with you guys.”

The laughter paused for a moment as everyone processed what he’d just said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wooyoung leaned forward, his eyes wide. “Did San just admit to something? Did I hear that right?”

“Mark this day,” Hongjoong said dramatically, pretending to jot something down. “The day San didn’t deny his feelings.”

Yeosang smirked, his usual quiet demeanor replaced by a rare glint of amusement. “Looks like someone’s getting soft.”

San groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re all insufferable.”

“But you love us,” Seonghwa teased with a knowing smile, earning more laughter from the group.

Jongho, watching the chaos unfold, couldn’t help but smirk. “All I said was she’s good at aiming. You guys took it and ran.”

“Yeah, but you have to admit,” Yunho said, still grinning, “jongho said she hit the most important target without even trying.”

San rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. As much as his friends teased him, there was no denying the truth they’d managed to uncover so easily.

As you sat on the edge of the camp, your eyes drifted to where Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang were huddled together. The way they bantered and laughed, their easy camaraderie so natural, made your chest ache in a way you hadn’t expected.

They were teasing each other relentlessly, Wooyoung doubling over in laughter while Yeosang calmly delivered a comeback that made San groan dramatically.

You sighed, pulling your knees up to your chest. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Not because you didn’t like them being close, but because you wished you had something like that—best friends who knew you so well, who could make you laugh even in the most stressful situations, who felt like home.

The loneliness you’d carried for so long suddenly felt heavier. You tried to push it away, but the thought lingered. What would it feel like to be part of something like that?

Wooyoung caught your gaze first, his playful smile faltering when he noticed your expression. Nudging San with his elbow, he nodded in your direction.

San followed his glance, his brows furrowing when he saw you. Without hesitation, he stood up and motioned for Yeosang and Wooyoung to follow him.

“Hey,” San called out as they approached. “What are you doing all the way over here?”

You shrugged, forcing a smile. “Just sitting.”

Wooyoung plopped down next to you, resting his chin in his hand. “You looked like you were deep in thought. Care to share with the class?”

Yeosang sat on your other side, his calm presence immediately grounding. “Something bothering you?” he asked softly.

You hesitated, not wanting to admit what you were feeling. “It’s nothing. Just… thinking about stuff.”

The conversation earlier left you feeling a little lighter, but not entirely. As the evening rolled in and everyone busied themselves with their tasks, you retreated to the small room San had given up for you. Sitting on the bed, you stared at the wall, lost in thought.

A soft knock on the door broke the silence. “It’s me,” San’s voice came through. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, then called out, “Yeah, sure.”

The door creaked open, and San stepped inside, closing it gently behind him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I’m fine.”

San raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You didn’t seem fine earlier. You’ve been quiet ever since. What’s going on?”

You looked away, gripping the edge of the bed. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t pull that with me,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “You can talk to me. I won’t judge you.”

Something about his sincerity broke through the wall you were trying so hard to keep up. With a sigh, you finally admitted, “I felt jealous earlier. Watching you and your friends… I don’t have anything like that. I never did.”

San’s brows furrowed as he moved closer, sitting down across from you. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “I don’t have those kinds of bonds. Not with my family, and definitely not with friends. I’ve always been… on my own. Watching you all laugh and support each other just made me realize what I’m missing.”

The room went silent for a moment. San’s gaze softened, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. “You’ve been carrying that around all this time?”

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve managed this far.”

San shook his head. “No, it is a big deal. You shouldn’t have to feel that way.”

You looked down, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just how it is. I’ve learned to deal with it.”

San reached out, gently placing a hand over yours. “You don’t have to deal with it alone anymore. You have us now. You have me now.”

His words made your chest tighten, but this time, it wasn’t out of sadness. It was the comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

“You really mean that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

San smiled, a warmth in his eyes that made you feel a little less alone. “I do. We’re here for you. And I’m here for you, no matter what.”

San's words lingered in the air, heavy with sincerity, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept them. You’d heard promises like that before—words meant to comfort, to soothe—but they rarely held up. People always said they’d be there, and yet, when it mattered most, they disappeared.

You offered him a faint smile, hoping it was enough to convince him you were okay. “Thanks, San. I appreciate it.”

But deep down, the wall you’d built around yourself refused to budge. You couldn’t afford to let it down, not when experience had taught you that trust came with consequences.

San tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Your breath hitched, but you quickly shook your head. “It’s not that. I just… I’m not used to this. It’ll take time.”

He frowned, leaning forward slightly. “I get it. I can’t change what’s happened to you before. But I want you to know I’m not like that. None of us are. When we say you’re part of this now, we mean it.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let those words sink in, but the scars of broken trust ran too deep. Instead, you nodded, giving him another polite, distant response. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

San’s shoulders slumped slightly, like he knew he hadn’t quite reached you. But he didn’t push further. Instead, he stood, looking at you with a quiet determination. “Alright. Take your time. I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

You nod your head hesitantly. Doubts still circling your mind.

“You keep saying that, but I know you’re not gonna. You don’t have to tell me everything, but… I wish you would.”

For a long moment, the room was silent. Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to do this, San. Trust people. Believe that they’ll stay. I’ve been let down too many times.”

San’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “I get it. I do. But… not everyone is going to hurt you. Not me.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “How can you say that? You don’t know what the future holds. People change, San. They leave.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his tone steady. “But I’m here now, and I’m not planning to go anywhere. I mean it.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. There was none. Still, you shook your head, your walls refusing to come down. “You don’t understand, San. I’ve heard those words before.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, then stood and extended a hand toward you. “Come with me.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

“Just… trust me. For tonight,” he said, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips.

Hesitant, you took his hand. He led you out of the room and through the quiet camp, eventually stopping in a small clearing lit by the moon. The rest of the group was nowhere in sight, leaving the two of you surrounded by stillness.

“I wanted to show you something,” San said, letting go of your hand and stepping back. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, worn object—a charm.

You tilted your head. “What’s that?”

“It’s something my mom gave me before I left home,” he explained, his voice carrying a mix of nostalgia and warmth. “She told me to hold onto it whenever I felt lost or unsure. And I wanted you to have it.”

Your eyes widened. “San, I can’t—”

“You can,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “You’re not alone anymore. And even if you don’t believe me now, I’ll keep proving it until you do.”

The sincerity in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes—it broke something in you. Tears welled up despite your efforts to hold them back.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Because you matter to me,” he said simply. “More than you know.”

The walls you’d built so carefully began to crack. Slowly, you nodded, accepting the charm. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try. For you.”

San smiled, his relief palpable. “That’s all I ask.”

As the night stretched on, the two of you stayed there, talking quietly under the stars. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of hope—a belief that maybe, just maybe, you’d finally found someone who wouldn’t leave.

In the weeks that followed, something began to shift. San kept his promise, showing up in ways you hadn’t expected. Whether it was a warm cup of tea when you couldn’t sleep, a steadying hand during training, or simply sitting beside you in silence when you needed it most, he proved his words with actions.

The group noticed, of course. Wooyoung teased San relentlessly, while Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing looks. Even Yeosang, usually reserved, smiled faintly when he caught you two sharing quiet moments.

Slowly but surely, you found yourself opening up��not just to San, but to the rest of the group. Hongjoong taught you about navigation, Jongho helped you refine your aim, and Seonghwa shared stories of his childhood that made you laugh until your sides hurt. For the first time in your life, you felt like you belonged.

One evening, after a long day of training, you sat with San on a hill overlooking the camp. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, the sun dipping low on the horizon.

“You’ve changed,” San said softly, his gaze fixed on you.

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh? How so?”

“You’re smiling more,” he said, his own lips curving into a grin. “And I think you’re starting to trust us.”

You looked out at the horizon, the warmth of his words settling in your chest. “Maybe I am,” you admitted. “It’s… nice, having people to rely on.”

San chuckled, leaning back on his hands. “Well, you’ve got us now. And we’re not going anywhere.”

You turned to him, your heart swelling with something you hadn’t felt in a long time: gratitude. “Thank you, San. For everything.”

He met your gaze, his eyes soft and sincere. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re here.”

As the sun set and the first stars began to appear, you realized something profound. This wasn’t just a group of people who had taken you in. They were your family now—a family you’d fought to find, and one you knew would stand by you no matter what.

And as for San? Well, maybe—just maybe—he was your beginning, the start of a life you never thought you’d have.

For the first time in a long time, you weren’t looking back at what you’d lost. Instead, you were looking forward—to a future filled with hope, laughter, and the people who made your heart feel whole.

[lycanloc]

You guys actually make me kind of fucking sick.

Obviously not directed at OP but at the voters. This is the first post I've seen from them.

TL;DR it's fucking disgusting how some of y'all will forgive a neo-nazi that has actively spread hate in-person but not someone who limits it to only words. I will block you if you say something stupid in regards to this.

Let me start out by saying this; I am heavily against JK Rowling's stance on Jewish people, people of color, and trans people. The Holocaust did indeed happen, do proper research on cultures you're unfamiliar with (especially if you putting them into a story), trans men are men, trans women are women, sex and gender are different.

With that out of the way... what the fuck is this?

Taking from one of the comment reblogs, but going off of percentages... more of you would forgive a Neo-Nazi, someone who actively believed Hitler, the man who actively tried killing all Jews, gays, and trans people, and also believed in "the master race" was right?

This might be controversial, so I understand if you disagree with it, but I genuinely believe Neo-Nazis are WORSE than JK Rowling. JK Rowling has, in all honesty, only talked about her views on Twitter, the worse being the Imane Khelief situation, which... only caused cyberbulling. Still really fucking bad, don't get me wrong, especially since she refuses to listen to what anyone says.

But Neo-Nazis literally try to enact what Hitler wanted. They actively go out and protest, trying to preach Nazism. Just looking up images, one result talks about them preaching anti-semitism, homophobia, and white supremacy in front of DISNEY WORLD in Orlando. In front of LITERAL CHILDREN.

I can not FATHOM how you could forgive someone willing to expose children and even literally babies to sheer hatred but not someone who limits their hatred to tweets. This is absolutely fucking revolting.

And reread the second poll. This isn't some "edgy phase" from middle school, where people like to make the "funny communism haha" type of jokes. No, it explicitly says "a nazi phase in their adult life." Someone who is grown and mature enough to know EXACTLY what they're doing and preaching.

Either some of you are lying straight out of your fucking ass, or some of you are just plain fucking stupid. If you either believe JK did nothing wrong, think JK denying the Holocaust, using racist stereotypes, or outright calling trans people a danger is good, or you would just... straight up forgive a neo-nazi no questions asked, then fuck you. I hope you get what you deserve.

And note; I block quite freely. So if you say something just outright fucking stupid, like "JK is actually based for that" or something, I am not giving you the time of day. Go fuck yourself.

IF and ONLY IF she apologized genuinely, donated a large sum of money to appropriate charities, and showed genuine and sincere efforts to remedy and repair her behavior: would you forgive JK Rowling?

[voidcxltist]

Random headcannons that'll never be headcannons but I just had them and should share them with you

If Narinder was transmasc

- In his universe, Narinder would've shared this with Shamura and Shamura only, as he was still apparently a child to Kallamar and Leshy and Heket were "too innocent to understand"

- Shamura recieved him with arms wide open, letting him change socially and physically to match his gender identity, in little steps, so his silobings had opportunity to understand what was happening

- When he was finally in a sociably acceptable masculine form, as gifts, would start reviving his silibing's cultists, but also himself's

- Obviously this ended on the same timelime, this time, Lamb would be awfully surprised to notice that his master had a gentle voice instead of the raspy, low and scream-consumed voice of his, this because Narinder refused to talk a lot for not letting people think he eas too femenine

- The same story asnin CoTL would be played, except that when Narinder was on the floor of the Purgatory with a sword in his chest, Lamb noticed the scars of a long time ago era, thinking it was just because of a fight, decided to leave it like it was

- Obviously, if y'all like Narilamb, in this case, Lamb was passing by his partner's tent, when he noticed a quiet, weak sob on it, despite his rough looking exterior, Narinder was curling on the floor, Lamb let it slide for the moment, thinking he needed to get over something

TW: Can be slightly suggestive or triggering

- Despite his desire of enjoying a sexual time with Lamb, he couldn't bring up to tell him that he had not a matching genitalia to his "social body", and the first time they were just randomly pushing and shoving on teasing and saying comments, the thing got strong and well...

- Lamb at first was extremly confused, Narinder was awkward, trying to calm his rising anxiety, and as while Lamb tried to figure out, he got "The Leaf™" and rushed away

- After he found him, his concersation was like:

"I was scared, Lamb. I didn't knew it would upset you"

"Upset me? I mean, it was a surprise, yes, but i wasn't upset, I don't know what you've been through but I can assure you, you'll never stop being my partner over some; sexual matter"

"... Hey"

"Hm?"

"Thanks. For, accepting what am I"

"No problem, anytime you need"

- Of course, if you want to believe they or they don't had s word, it's something else, but we can't left eithout mentioning that Narinder's cramps and period always had made him a mess, and Lamb always takes care of him so he doesn't feels any alone, if he's on crusade, he always makes sure Narinder's gonna be alright 🫶

[bellaxgiornata]

Just a quick update for everyone because I know I've been gone for a few months and some of y'all are wondering what I'm up to at the moment:

I'm planning to get y'all the last piece from Tuna-Tober that's long overdue--Frank's little fic "Don't Know What You're Talking About" soon (maybe even today, who knows).

I have another Jax Teller one shot "Hold on a Little Tighter" that I will be throwing out probably in the next day or so? Jax has been helping me work through the writing fog after months of nothing so he's temporarily staying.

THERE WILL BE AN UPDATE TO THE DEVIL AT YOUR WINDOW! I've had it written for MONTHS and y'all deserve it. So sometime, maybe this week or next, y'all will get that once it's edited.

I am....working on a Jax Teller smut piece to ease me back into smut after months away. It is temporarily titled "Something Changed" and it's a WIP at the moment.

Now I'm off to go have brunch with my family this morning, but keep an eye out for some Frank Castle and Jax Teller over these next couple of days. More Matty coming soon...

[icy-watch]

And that was Nexo Knights.

I really wasn't sure what to expect with this series, and I'm glad I watched it. I really did enjoy it. I'm sad that the series got cut short. It really would have been cool to have at least 1 more season to wrap up some loose plot threads - though I don't doubt y'all're going to tell me. 😆

Thank you all for joining me. You're always welcome to stick around and see what I watch next. The poll for the movie is ending very soon, but it looks like there's a clear winner.

I plan to start watching it the day after tomorrow, and see how long it takes me to get thru (usually 2 days). After that? Well, we'll have to wait on the results for the next series poll.

Again, thank you all for joining me. I can't wait to see what pain y'all want to out me thru next.

Correct and incorrect predictions are under the cut.

Correct

Monstrux is going to turn Clay into a stone soldier. I mean, this was kind of really obvious.

Clay has magic. I genuinely don't remember making this prediction. What happened that made me predict this?

One of Clay’s parents was on the Wizard’s Council. Well. At least 1 that we know of.

Macy is going to carry around the trauma of Clay being turned back into a statue for the rest of the season. She’s going to be more stressed than ever to find a cure. And then he became human again, and everything was magically better.

Clay’s going to be freed early in ep9. Surprised but not really.

Incorrect

Clay isn’t going to rejoin the knights right away. It’ll happen closer to the end of the season, and by then he’ll have to race to help them. Took him a little longer than I thought it would, tbh.

Montrux’s magic is affecting Clay. Turns out, it was Clay's own magic and his bloodline.

The knights will eventually find a cure for Clay. Clay magically fixed himself.

Clay is over 100 years old. 😔 I thought I was onto something there.

Ruina is going to abandon Jestro and Monstrux. Honestly? She really should have.

Something is going to make Jestro rethink working with Montrux. The poor silly little clown was so mind controlled, he couldn't think straight.

Merlok is Clay’s grandfather. Well, at least I predicted that they are family?

Jestro is going to stumble across the final tablet by accident or he’s going to remember seeing 1 in Knightonia. This actually would have been funny, but I did like that the krakenbeast found it for him.

Merlok is going to use his tower to boost the Nexo Power to all capable knight to fight the stone army. This would have been really cool. All of the knights using Nexo Power together? Would have loved it.

Ruina is going to try and recruit Clay again. And it’s not going to work. I'm actually surprised she didn't.

Partial

There’s going to be a race between the stone army and the knights to find Clay first. And the stone army is going to find him first - on accident. There was a race, but unfortunately, someone else got to him before either of them could.

Clay’s magic and the Nexo Power will defeat Monstrux. Merlok's magic helped, too.

Unconfirmed

The figure in Clay’s vision from Ruina is a sibling. I think this is something y'all're going to tell me about.

Clay is not fully human. Bc of Ruina, it's kinda hard to tell. Y'all can correct me on this.

[eyrieofsynapses]

so uh, I am brand-new to Star Trek (as in not even finished with the third TOS season), so I don't have much background here, but I have thoughts? I am also not a biologist, mind you, just researching online and using what I remember from gen-ed classes. I may have lost myself down the rabbit hole for… er. a while. a long while.

For the record, this is me trying to apply Earth biology and logic, which I know is not actually applicable to literal aliens or fiction. The joy of writing is being able to say "fuck it, this is fiction, I make the rules now."

But. Science is fun. So here's me trying to Science it.

First: points of consideration! Vulcan is a desert planet. It's close to its star with a thinner atmosphere, and notably hotter than Earth. A thinner atmosphere makes it harder for a planet to regulate temperature and may block less solar radiation. We also know, thanks to Amok Time, that humans can't breathe as easily there, probably due to lower oxygen. So, this means: 1) The temperature difference between day and night is probably more significant than Earth's (because desert and thinner atmosphere). 2) Less oxygen is available.

(For the record, I don't think humanoids would develop on a purely desert planet, but my tangent on this got so long that I'm cutting it. Also sci-fi hand-wavey suspension of disbelief.)

Second: what we already know! …or what I know from the first and second seasons of TOS, what y'all pointed out in the thread, and what I looked up via wikis. The links on episode titles go to transcripts.

Copper blood: Vulcan hemoglobin (the protein used to carry oxygen around) is copper-based, not iron-based (TOS "Obsession"), hence the green blood.

Blood pressure and heartrate: They have significantly lower blood pressure than humans, but a much, much higher heartrate—assuming Sarek's stats during surgery in "Journey to Babel" are applicable, anyway. (Again, I am very new to Star Trek, so that definitely could contradict something newer.)

Cool blood (and low metabolism): Their blood is cooler than humans', possibly implying a lower body temperature. McCoy also comments on Spock's nigh-unmeasurably low metabolism (TOS "The Paradise Syndrome").

Temperature tolerance: They have a considerably wider range of temperature tolerance than humans. (This is implied by their planet's natural temperature range, and by the fact that Spock is usually okay at human temperatures, but, when he can't regulate his temperature so well, apparently finds 125 degrees (presumably Fahrenheit) "tolerable" in "The Deadly Years").

(…also. According to Memory Alpha, a fan-made medical reference text provides some stats. But it's not considered canon, doesn't reference Earth science, and I spent way too long researching this to end it at that.)

SO. Let's go through those "what we already know" points.

Green blood and copper-based hemoglobin: This is a real thing! Some animals DO use copper instead of iron to carry oxygen around! Except they're invertebrates (ex. octopuses, some spiders), the blood is blue, it's not called hemoglobin, it's in an open circulatory system, and it's not like vertebrate blood. It's called hemocyanin, and it free-floats in the invertebrate equivalent to blood (hemolymph) rather than being shipped around by red blood cells.

(For the record, there are other types of blood that are green, but they don't use copper. But blood color varies for other reasons too. I'm handwaving this one.)

Vulcans clearly have closed circulatory systems (closed = blood pumps through vessels, open = sloshes around organs freeform), so they'd need cells to carry oxygen around, so they probably don't use hemolymph.

If you're wondering "but we evolved from invertebrates, so why don't we use copper?" like I was, it's because COPPER SUCKS AT CARRYING OXYGEN. At least in comparison to iron. (Unless you're in deep sea environments, which the desert is not.) So presumably, Earth vertebrates started using iron somewhere along the line. Vulcans did not.

My conclusion: Vulcan biology uses copper in a way that's analogous to how humans use iron, but somehow finds a way to make it efficient enough to match said iron's oxygen capcity. Also, considering that Vulcan seems to have less oxygen in its atmosphere, I'd guess their systems use oxygen more efficiently overall, or they just don't require as much. So maybe it doesn't even need to be quite as efficient. (Coming back later: to my gratification, Memory Alpha also notes the oxygen issue, although in this case it notes that Vulcans have more efficient respiratory systems to get the oxygen needed.)

Lower blood pressure, higher heart rate: I think beastlyanachronism is right about this one. However, circulatory systems are extremely complex and I know nothing about them (I'm a communications person, not a doctor, Jim!), so I'm not really the person to ask. I did some reading to try to educate myself for the sake of this question, though. Anyway: lower blood pressure implies that the Vulcan heart doesn't beat very hard, but it seems to beat faster to make up for the lower pressure. This clicks with the idea that Vulcans use oxygen more efficiently/need less oxygen than humans, since the heart doesn't have to do so much work.

Finally! Body temperature. I'm combining "cold blood" and "wide temperature tolerance range." And I did Much Research. I'm going to explain some biology stuff that some folks probably already know, but for those like me who don't remember the nitpick bits of biology class, I figure this might be useful.

Generally speaking, there are two types of animal when it comes to regulating body temperature: ectothermic (i.e., primarily relies on environmental heat sources and produces little internal heat; e.g. reptiles, amphibians, fish), and endothermic (i.e., generates internal heat and maintains a more-or-less constant body temperature; e.g. mammals and birds). It's way more nuanced than that, but we're talking broad strokes. (More reading: 1, 2, 3)

(Side note, the ducks kedreeva mentioned are maybe using regional heterothermy.)

Colloquially, you would hear these referred to as "cold-blooded" and "warm-blooded" respectively, but science doesn't use those terms anymore because it's not how they technically work; e.g., lots of active ectotherms keep their body temperature in mammal-range. There are others that conform to their surrounding environments, like fish, but as far as I can tell, they need a fairly consistent environmental temperature range. Endotherms, meanwhile, rely on their internal heat source: the excess heat energy from their internal functions.

Heat's important to animals for… well, multiple reasons, but a big one is chemical processes, because they're fiddly and need specific temperatures. Life itself is basically just a bunch of chemical processes.

The problem with ectotherms is that they're reliant on their environment. Their activity is tied to temperature, and the colder it is, the more they slow down. If it gets too hot, they overheat. Also, they have slower metabolisms, and don't necessarily store energy the way endotherms do. Long, extended periods of high activity are harder—if not impossible—for them to maintain, and they can't support big, energy-hoarding brains like endotherms can. (More on intelligence and endo vs ectotherms here.)

Overall, I find it hard to match this with Vulcans, because they seem to perform consistently across a wide variety of temperatures, their brains are very complex and probably need a huge amount of energy, and they're a lot like mammals (hair/fur, similar physical build, etc.), which are exclusively endothermic. Plus, I'm not sure an ectotherm system would be fully compatible with an endotherm, and humans are endotherms, so… I'm not sure Vulcan/human hybrids would work.

The one exception is metabolism, because McCoy does say specifically that Spock's "Vulcan metabolism" is low. (Unfortunately I overlooked that part until after I'd written most of this post.) And, well, Vulcans are aliens, so they COULD be ectothermic-like and just have other things going on that make hybridization possible. And the boundary between ectotherms and endotherms isn't firm; there's plenty of crossover. Or they might be something totally different! So YMMV.

Meanwhile, endotherms—mammals and birds, basically—maintain a stable internal temperature. This comes with trade-offs: we have a higher metabolism (part of what generates our internal heat) and therefore require more food, and we have to be much more intentional with our temperature regulation. 

But. Because endotherms have a consistent internal temperature, we're actually MORE resilient to temperature changes: we can maintain the same activities at warmer and colder temperatures. We can also support bigger and more energy-intensive brains. (Well, mostly; it's more complex than that, but this post is too long already.) I'd argue that Vulcans kind of have to be endotherms, or at least endotherm-like, in order to function across the vast variety of environments we see them in.

…exceeept there's the matter of the cold blood, and their temperature range is still giant (not to mention the accidentally overlooked metabolism issue). BUT. I have a THEORY.

CAMELS.

Camels let their body temperature range between around 34°C (93 Fahrenheit) to over 40°C (104 Fahrenheit). As desert-dwellers, they'll let their body temperature rise over the course of the day and drop during the night. That also helps them conserve water. They have a multitude of other useful adaptations, of course, but what I'm saying here is: they're desert endotherms that change their body temperature according to their environment. So I figure: why not Vulcans, too?

My pet theory: Vulcans are endotherms (or whatever passes for their evolutionary equivalent), but their internal temperature range varies dependent upon their environment. In human-comfortable room temperature, their body temperature might be several degrees below normal human body temperature, thus sparking Dr. McCoy's "ice water" comment. But once you start getting well over a hundred degrees, their body temperatures may come close to a human's, or even go much higher.

(This still doesn't address the metabolism part, but this is what I get for not reading the transcript line thoroughly until I've written a whole post. Bleh. Maybe I'll figure it out later and add a note.)

I also like to think that, assuming evolution already optimized their systems for less oxygen and somehow got copper to be an actually viable oxygen-carrier for vertebrates, maybe the various temperature-dependent chemical reactions in their bodies are more flexible or have other methods of temperature regulation.

…ANYWAY. there's six hours of my life I'll never get back! biologists, my deepest apologies for anything I got wrong, please feel free to yell at me.

Plus one last fun fact: when we look at climate trends on Earth, animals tend to become bigger when Earth cools (ex. mammoths during the latest Ice Age) and smaller when it warms (ex. early horses became teeeeeeny when our climate rapidly warmed back in the Eocene, and then got bigger when things cooled down). This phenomenon is known as Bergmann's rule. Basically, the bigger an animal is, the better it retains heat, and vice versa.

These are Earth rules, of course, and probably there's large Vulcan fauna that evolved to deal with extreme heat, but. look. I find the idea of Vulcans being giants in a world of miniaturized critters amusing, okay?

Okay, I'm all over the place with my physiological grasp of Vulcans. Are they hotter or colder than humans? Why? Does that make them feel the heat more or less than humans? Is their heartbeat faster or slower?

Also if you have a strong opinion or an explanation or anything to say please tell me! I wanna get a grasp on this one