#onkey: my writing

[amaryllisblackthorn]

(i originally wrote about this in a discord server; if you've seen it before, pretend you haven't /lh)

okay some more thoughts:

Takeru + Patamon walking into what seems like the Dark Ocean nearish the end at ~ 3:23 .

okay, in order to get into that, we must back up a bit first.

the beginning of the video, with adult Takeru writing and talking to Patamon about it:

Patamon: Takeru, are you writing the next part of the story? Takeru: Yeah. I'm writing about the events that led me to write this book.

opening up with Takeru writing about their adventures.

okay, backing up even more, to "As I Type on the Keyboard" from the 'Digimon Adventure 02: Original Story, Spring 2003' Drama CD (translated into English by onkei), which addresses when and why Takeru first starts writing.

Then one day, my mother off-handedly said this: “Instead of me acting as the third-person messenger, the public will be more persuaded if they heard about it directly from you, the ones involved.” Then she went on to suggest that I should write a memorandum. She wasn’t being serious when she said this, so the conversation ended there. But I…. I haven’t told my mother yet… but I have already begun to write. I wanted to keep a record of our memories before they were forgotten. From the day when I first flew into the Digital World and met Patamon… towards everything we’ve experienced that I can remember. The things that the younger me had seen, heard, touched, and felt in my heart… There were things that I remember too vividly, and things that are fuzzy. There are also things that make me feel embarrassed upon re-thinking them. […] Really… when I remember those things now, my face turns bright red with embarrassment. I feel like digging myself into a hole. […] The part where Angemon fought Devimon on File Island and turned into an egg… is still left unwritten. It’s hard for me to re-live, but also… the feelings that overflowed in my heart that time, as though it had been cut to shreds… Knowing how to write about it, or even describe it, is beyond me at the moment. [chuckle] I also have problems with writing itself. I feel as though I should personally settle this mess of feelings within me first. That’s why… for this part alone… until I’ve become more of an adult…

in a way, writing about their adventures is kind of like, a therapeutic way to process his emotions and trauma -- among other things!! it's not JUST that. he wants to record the things that happened and remember them bc he was very young for the first adventure. but, to me, i definitely interpret part of it like that. i'm not explaining it well i think but yeah.

but also!! that part about struggling and not being ready yet to write about losing Angemon (ive written before, but maybe not on tumblr, abt how Takeru is affected by that trauma in s1 & 02, and the difference in how it affects him in the two seasons) ----

specifically the "I feel as though I should personally settle this mess of feelings within me first. / That’s why… for this part alone… until I’ve become more of an adult…" part.

Takeru (& Patamon) heading into what resembles the Dark Ocean, happy/pleasant and not concerned, may represent Takeru finally being able to 'settle [that] mess of feelings', the dark, traumatic feelings he barely knew even still affected him in 02 --

-- I've written before about how i interpret Takeru in 02 as not being aware at how unintentionally closed off/withdrawn about personal deep feelings he actually is, until the stuff with Iori brings it to his intention. in a way, he's similar to Hikari in that he keeps a lot of 'true feelings' inside etc, Hikari is entirely super self-aware that she does this and Takeru is the opposite & has no idea until later on. i'm afraid im rambling ---

-- BASICALLY, that Takeru may finally be in a place where he can go deep into those feelings and face them, for lack of better words. that's he finally ready to tackle writing about it and how he feels about it

i don't even know if that's what is intended here, but i love that i can read into it like that, even if i'm reading too into it. if you weren't aware, i'm constantly reading into Takeru so much.

[onthighsbelongtotaemin]

A fluffy key prompt with a hint of nostalgic happy crying as they look through a scrapbook together and cuddle with hot cocoa under a soft blanket ♡

@moshiznik can i pretty please get some cute ontaekey snuggles in the cold and just hanging out over the hols (any is fine!!!!!) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😇

i blended the prompts because they were so similar (& so soft!  just want to wrap myself up in them!)  this gets angsty for like 0.5 seconds but if you hold on it gets fluffy again.word count: 804

Kibum snuggles in deep beneath the thick duvet.  The crimson and cream plaid of the blanket over his lap is a nice contrast to the sage and forest plaid of the flannel pajamas he wears that match the ones Jinki and Taemin each have on. 

They’re still in the kitchen pouring their own cups of cocoa while Kibum’s taken the opportunity to grab the center seat. 

A black scrapbook with their initials in silver script sits closed on the table in front of him and that in front of a blazing fire crackles.  The room is warm and the blanket warmer and the cocoa in his hands even warmer still.  Taemin is the first to join him, shifting the duvet a little too far to the left and he quickly tugs it back to where he wants it.  Jinki’s more careful when he takes his place, making sure to take his share and no more and slipping an arm around the back of the sofa to make more room.

“Who’s going to go first?” Taemin asks in a tone that makes clear that he wants it to be himself.  Kibum wants to answer that he’ll go first but he lets a pause be filled by Jinki saying that Taemin can.  Eagerly, the youngest of the three, but the one who trained the longest grabs up the scrapbook they all contributed to and opens it up on the first page.

The first page is a copy of Taemin’s acceptance letter after his audition.  The second is a copy of Kibum’s and then the first picture of the two of them together they remember taking & one they’ve seen online more than once.  The next is Jinki’s acceptance letter, followed soon by a few pictures of them on the rooftop where they used to practice, the one that’s circulated online & also the ones that they’ve kept hidden.

More pictures, and then letters.  Some are written by hand but most of them are screenshots of messages.  Candid photos begin to join and the ones from when they debut.

And then the ones they don’t like to remember.  Kibum added those.  Taemin’s hand stops and the page lays open in the middle of the scrapbook with a photograph that was taken a long time ago when hearts were broken and angry.

“Why did you put this in there?” Jinki asks quietly.

“I didn’t,” Taemin answers, even though he doesn’t need to.  This is before Kibum.  Sort of.  Kibum was always a part of everything so maybe it was actually before Jinki.

“To remember,” Kibum murmurs, shuttling his hands around the blanket so that they each enfold one of Jinki’s and one of Taemin’s each.   “Can’t repeat our history if we don’t forget it.”  There’s quiet nodding and then the crinkling of paper as Taemin turns another page.

“Hyung!” he cries in mortification.  “No!”  There’s another candid, only this time Taemin is only half-awake with hair that sticks up everywhere and an indiscreet bruise at the base of his neck.  There are more pictures like that for more pages, filled by Kibum and Taemin, each of them more embarrassing than the next, each of them doing their best to find humiliating photographs of the men they love.

And then suddenly they change.  Suddenly it’s the pictures that Jinki chose and the theme alters abruptly from embarrassment to endearment and every picture is softer than the next.  Candids, yes, but of Kibum and Taemin at their best and most passionate. 

Photograph after photograph of Taemin at the piano.  Still after still of Kibum with his sketches and outlines.  There are black and whites of the three of them asleep in bed.  There are comparison shots where he’s managed to pose them in the same way in the present as they were when they were trainees without them even realizing it at the time, and captioned them with silly puns that somehow make Kibum cry and even Taemin is sniffling by the end of the book.

“I love you,” Jinki says softly, squeezing Kibum’s hand and saying it to both.  Ten years is a long time and he and Taemin have been through even longer than that.  And then Kibum.  Or maybe Kibum and Taemin and then Jinki.  Maybe it’s been more.  Maybe it’s been less.  They have the now. 

“I love you,” Taemin repeats first, squeezing Kibum’s hand and saying it to both.

“Jerks,” Kibum says, pulling back his hands and wiping his eyes.  Taemin laughs and wraps his arms around Kibum’s waist while Jinki hugs him around the shoulder. 

Later, the fire crackles across the room as they drink their cocoa, Taemin’s more marshmallows than drink, and argue about who did what and when and remember all the stories and memories that brought them to the one they’re building today.

[jinkisbelly]

You Have Me

Song Drabble #2. This time Middle of the Night by Elley Duhé

Pairing: Onkey, pg - 13. Ao3

Kibum’s a shadow for the King, who happens to love a very popular Bard performing in the nearby tavern.

          Kibum smiled from behind his ale held between both hands, elbows pressed against the thick aged wood of the tavern table, the rest of his face hidden by the shadow of his hat. He wasn’t supposed to be here, but it was the first time in quite a while his favorite Bard was near enough for him to see perform. The last time had been almost half a year prior, stumbling into the inn of a random port town he had found after a king’s bounty had gone astray. Jinki’s voice filled the space bodies weren’t taking up, swelling bright and full in the candlelit tavern. From his spot he could see the man grinning, spinning around a support post, white linen shirt loose around his body moving with him. His hair was tied up with the usual dark blue ribbon, a bit falling and curling slightly the longer he performed. Kibum remembered the night he had given the man that ribbon, even if it had been years ago in the middle of their time traveling together before responsibilities had caught up with them.

          Jinki was just as charismatic, a full-on flirt as he made his rounds. As he approached Kibum lowered his ale, resting his hands flat on the table, and the pause in the man’s steps was barely noticeable, but he knew Jinki recognized him. The song ended with a flourish, Jinki laughing brightly as he bowed deeply to the applause of the gathered crowd and the rhythmic thumps of mugs against the tables. Kibum lifted his head just a bit, safe in the dimly lit corner of the room, and grinned proudly when he felt Jinki’s eyes on him across the way. The last song of the night began to play, the same closer the man always performed, but Kibum knew the story of it, had lived through it with him. He paid his tab at the bar and took his leave, head dipped low as he bobbed and weaved through the crowd to the stairs leading up to his room. Before closing the door behind him he tied an identical navy ribbon to the door handle. Jinki would find him if he wished to.

          His hat was placed softly on the small table against the wall, his thick outer cloak unclipped and swirled from his shoulders to rest, quickly folded, beside it. He could still hear the faint sound of Jinki’s voice, the music bright and quick, helping to create the world the man was spinning with his words. He could remember a time where Jinki’s name didn’t hold much weight, where he wouldn’t hear the hum or words of his songs randomly on his own travels, and Kibum shook his head, shaking away the fond memories of a time long passed. By the time the buckles and laces of his boots were taken care of, and his feet slipped from them, the noise had died down a bit. He tried not to get his hopes up, put too much of himself in the faith he had in Jinki, in what they had once had. Time changed many things and with his popularity, Kibum wouldn’t be surprised if Jinki had found another lover, someone who could give him what he deserved instead of what Kibum had to offer.

          Methodically his fingers moved down the buttons of his clothes, the fabric soft and well worn against his skin, folding them just right with each garment he pulled from his person and placing them together next to his pack and weapons. There was water on the dresser, cool to the couch and a bit of provided soap beside it. He could use a proper bath, but he would make do with what he had until he returned to the castle or found a decent body of water to clean himself with. While warm water was more comfortable most of the time, the cool water felt wonderful as he used it, eventually dipping his head into the large bowl, working at his scalp with his fingers. He was twisting his hair in a towel when the sound of knuckles raking against his door gave him pause. 

          There on the other side was Jinki, so much more beautiful this close-up, voice almost a whisper it was so quiet, dark blue ribbon intertwined in his fingers instead of the doorknob. This side of him, the bit that Kibum got to see alone, was his favorite. The soft, gentle warmth, the quiet words, and careful brush of fingers. Any doubts he may have had about what they were, what this relationship was, flew out of his mind at the sound of his name in the rumble of a voice. “Kibum.” 

          The next moment he had his hand around the back of his neck, tugging him into the room and managing to shut the door behind him as he pressed Jinki against the wall, lips sliding together with a soft groan. God, he made the prettiest sounds. He kissed down his neck, panting against it for a moment as he let his hands move down Jinki’s body, thumbs pressing into his hips. “I missed you.”

          “You have me,” Jinki breathed out, a rumble from his chest, fingers curling in the back of Kibum’s hair, almost desperate. “I’m yours.” 

          Just like that, it was like no time had passed between them, time meaning nothing as he laid Jinki out on his bed, moved up his body leaving his mark with each press of his fingers or mouth, reminding himself what it felt like to be with the man he loved. Outside of that small inn room, nothing else seemed to matter, just the press of his skin as Jinki arched up into his touch and dived headfirst into the sea of the man’s being. There was no telling when the next time they would see each other or get the chance, and they were quite used to making the most out of stolen moments.

[0525s]

☀️✨

[jjongslight]

Just to be CLEAR about that whole shipping wars thing, we are talking about the past, like early shawol fandom years (although similar issues exist in how we construct ships but to a less toxic extent - which I might do a post about). But to anyone who wasn’t there at that time or who was there, but is trying to change the narrative now, things were really shitty in that regard (like I can’t even begin to explain). 

On a wider scale, that really speaks on how we don’t want idols to have any type of significant relationships if a) they’re not with us or b) if those relationships are not within the group’s dynamics.

And those group dynamics can’t even begin to be representative of the real dynamics so really, we are just inventing fantasies and worshiping those as if they were reality. We don’t know them like that. 

Fanfiction has been a big part of my fandom experience (and still is), I’ve written over 40 fics in the SHINee fandom so I’m not here to act like I’m better than anyone. I’m just thinking about how we use their names, very real parts of their lives and attach a whole fictional world to it for our pleasures. I’m making it sound like it’s bad, but I really don’t know. Will I continue to write fanfiction? As of now, yes. But I’d be stupid not to stop and think about it for a minute. 

[smoldinopup]

My dearest SHINee fic writers and readers,

@summerof5HINee are currently holding a SHINee fan fic feast on Twitter. I think that’s a wonderful idea because it’s something from fans for fans. It’s not a competition, just an attempt to put more SHINee fics into this world. ^^

The feast is currently in in its prompt claiming phase, There are over 90 prompts to choose from with various parings, so please take a look when you are interested in contributing.

Here you will find the spreadsheet with all prompts and here the form you have to fill out when you want to claim a prompt. The prompts that are crossed out have already been claimed. 

More information on the event you can either find on their Twitter page (as linked above) or on their summerofshineecarrd. ^^

[bun-writes-things]

Bullet Proof: 2.0, Chp. 1

In all honesty Minho isn’t exactly surprised by this development. When he gained word of a fair coming to the city he knew right away Taemin would be all for it. What he does not expect, however, to his dismay, is Taemin wearing that god damn awful bracelet with the various charms and trinkets both given and bought. They’re at the shooting booth, Taemin’s aim never at all missing it’s mark. The consistent soft “clink clink” of charms grates on his nerves. Why did he bother to think those were a good idea? 

“Why do you have to wear those?” He asks, eyes rolling before he tsks. “They’re annoying.” 

“What? The charms?” Taemin looks up now having won three times now. In his arms is a giant frog. “I like them, they’re my good luck charms!” He says, cheeky grin playing along their plush lips. “Do you like my frog? I’m gonna name him Mingo~” 

This kid just really insulted him didn’t he? 

“How cute.” 

Taemin beams, positively radiant and carefree and it hurts him. It physically hurt Minho to know that he could never, ever ever ever… have that life again. This life. The life of a normal young adult and it’s a damn shame. Their night was relatively undisturbed which was a blessing; allowed them to enjoy an entire night without the idea of having to kill, without the fear of missing a mark and facing his wrath. Good things never lasted he knew, but Gods above he wished so. 

There was a buzz against his thigh, alerting him that soon enough they will have to leave. He gives Taemin a small nudge, the other merely frowning. The phone in his pocket buzzes once more, as if trying to get them to move. Taemin reads the emotion all too well, feels it as deeply as one would a stabbing pain. The ability he was born with allowed him to influence others, yet at the same time it allowed him to get contact highs of emotions from others. 

“Do we have to?” He whispers, eyes pleadingly gazing at the other. 

“We do.” 

“God damn it. Fucking Ravi…” 

…….. 

When they arrive back at the center Taemin excuses himself, saying he needed to drop things off. Minho, not having much to do heads to the meeting room. It was honestly his least favorite place in the building, but really what choice did he have? As Minho moves to leave Kibum heads instead to see Taemin. 

The oldest of the trio had always seemed to have a way to make Taemin do what was needed and so Minho pays no mind. The door is knocked on briefly before he enters. As expected Taemin has curled up on the bed, gaze unfocused and glassy. 

“Oh Taemin…” he hums softly. “You need to stop doing this. 

…..

The office smells of smoke and leather, the leader sits in a composed manner. By his side is a man of tall stature, yet feminine enough to be androgynous. Minho hates this. Hates waiting on his partner. Ravi is inherently just off putting, his aura commands respect and attention, but he creates an unease in the air,not unlike when Taemin gets upset. 

Taemin had yet to leave the room, Key was doing his best, of course, but the young assassin was having a moment and that would just not do. So as gently as he could, he reaches out, hand gently brushing against their cheek. It was so hard to see this child he raised like this. They were so young, yet they had more kills than any before. In this branch, at least. Still they had a job and Key would rather not risk the incubus's wrath. 

"Taemin... get up." 

"Make me." 

There was no time for these games and Key could feel a headache coming on. Not from stress, no, but from whenever Taemim used his ability. A firm hand comes down to smack their shoulder, shoves them onto their back. The pain clears instantly. 

"You little shit head!" He growls, then stops when he sees the fear. No one knew his childhood, just that he and his friend lived on the streets. The elder sighs, stroking their cheek. "Oh Taemin…"

"Am I real?" He whispers, looking up at his hyung, still holding Mingo and it hurts. 

"Of course you are," he whispers softly. "As am I and right now, we need Ace. Can you let Ace front for now?" He asks. 

Taemin nods, exhausted and let's them help him up. By the time they arrive, Ace is now in the front and Ravi grins. 

"Ah, about time. Thank you Key, you may leave us." 

"Sir," he gives a bow before turning to leave, door shutting behind him. 

Once alone with his two agents, Leo aside naturally, he takes a moment to assess them. Minho was stoic, there was nothing new there, but Ace? Ah he loved Ace. The other could indeed be stoic, but he wore it all on his sleeve: heart bared for the world to see and not a care for it. His ability was to put it simply, rare and something he coveted quite a bit. Torture in and of itself works just fine, but sometimes he needed a more delicate touch. That’s where Ace came in. When they captured a person with abilities or who knew the hidden secrets of a powerful relic he sent them to Ace. 

“Sir?” Minho’s voice breaks their thoughts and it is then he turns his attention once more to them both. 

“Right. As you know, we recently had an escape of our head scientists Lee Jinki and  Lee Eunsook. They took the mass of data we had created and bombed the lab. Nothing was left behind.” 

At the news both assassins raised their brows in confusion. Eunsook and Jinki were the most loyal to the organization and everyone knew that. 

“Why would they do that, sir?” Ace asks. 

“Who knows, all we know is they had a last correspondence to our former cleaner, Jonghyun. While we do not believe jonghyun has convinced them to leave, we have him under watch even now. He has done us a great service, but for reasons we had to let him go. Still, we will not cross off the possibility he has aided them.” 

The two nod, taking it all in as the other explained. 

“One of our infomats, H’wasa, has informed us that they were seen boarding a plane to Beijing after hopping onto a train to Incheon airport.. From there, it goes cold, however we have contacts in Shanghai who will be on the lookout. They have been missing for a few days now, so we do not exactly know where they are, but if they did indeed head to shanghai, there is a possibility we may yet be able to track them. This is where you two come in.” 

Again the two nod, letting Ravi continue his briefing. 

“When you arrive at the airport, you will meet up with our informat Chun Yan Li.” He says. “Take these folders, they will have everything you need to know about the twins. You have tickets as well, the train will leave to take you to the airport early in the morning. Dismissed.” 

--

As soon as they left Minho grabs Taemin’s hand, the younger stops, turns to glance at them. 

“Choi, let go of me. I don’t like you touching me,” Ace says and Minho obliges. He was still trying to separate the two. It was becoming easier, of course, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t mess up. 

Ace and Taemin, for being so different, carried themselves in a similar manner. He had hoped, though, that Taemin would front again. Wanted to talk with the younger and assure him. He supposes that will have to wait. With his hand freed Ace walks both himself Taemin to their room, far from the other so he could process it all. Taemin was too sensitive still, wouldn’t handle this life if not for him. 

Minho watched, rooted to the spot until another presence slid up, arm around his shoulder. Wide, brown eyes catching the other male’s. 

“Bummie?” He questions. 

“You look dumb staring into space. Last I knew, you must have a mission to prepare for. Lack of sleep will fuck you up. Before you go, take this,” he says, handing a bracelet to the other. Two of the same. “They’re bugged with a tracking device. Ravi wants to make sure this goes well, so he asked me to make these for you and Taemin, however…” 

“However…?” 

“You must not let Taemin know. His mind is fragile as is. This is more for Taemin’s benefit than your own, mind you. Ravi takes a special interest in him, and he is valuable to us as a tool. So Please, keep an eye on him and make sure he does not do anything reckless.” 

“You have my word, Kibum,” and with that he bids them goodnight and heads to Taemin’s room. He never locks it, finds it annoying since Kibum usually barges in regardless. 

The younger’s posture was more relaxed, less on guard and he knew then that Ace had relented. 

“Minnie?” He calls out softly, setting himself on the bed. “Are you awake?” 

The younger hums, turning to lay on his back to glance up, stuffed frog in his arms. 

“Hyungie?” his voice is small and it physically hits Minho like a damn semi truck. 

“Yeah. I have a gift for you,” he says, placing the bracelet aside. “Wear this tomorrow, okay? That way we both don’t lose each other.” 

Taemin watches him place it on the bedside table and then nods. The silence is heavy and yet it was so loud. 

“Minho?” 

“Yeah?” 

“C-Can you hold me? I want to hear your heart...I feel weightless.” 

The older smiles, scoops him into his arms as he lays on his side, lets them rest their head against his chest. 

“Anything for you, Taemin,” he whispers. 

“Thank you...hyung.” 

[damnonew]

i haven’t been an active author in this fandom in like... years. but i also need everyone to be excited about the stuff i’m working on rn lol 

the struggle is real

[eorumverba]

Oh um... 12 please with onkey. And if you're okay with it, could key be daddy?

But it’s too much, it’s too much having Jinki fresh from the shower and smelling so nice, smiling so prettily up at him with shy eyes and red cheeks, small and soft in that way he gets whenever he’s in Kibum’s lap. It’s too much, and Kibum breaks so easily, fitting his hands around Jinki’s waist and nosing into the curve of his neck to brush his lips in a soft kiss to his skin.

It’s not an accident, definitely not. Kibum wouldn’t have said anything if it were just one or two pages, but Jinki’s visited more than ten different pages on the site, all of them the same thing. And it’s something Jinki wants Kibum to see - he would’ve cleared the laptop’s browser history otherwise, would’ve used incognito. But this…this is something he wants Kibum to see. It’s just like the videos he’s left Kibum to find, the things he wants but is too shy to ask for, the things that make him flush pink and tremble with want.

Despite what Jinki may want, Kibum doesn’t bring it up right away, enjoying the way Jinki fidgets and opens his mouth like he wants to ask, flushes pink and closes his mouth from something like embarrassment. It’s cute, it’s adorable, and Kibum almost breaks every time, almost takes Jinki into his arms and tells him to order what he wants, but he doesn’t. The building anticipation will only make this better for both of them.

But it’s too much, it’s too much having Jinki fresh from the shower and smelling so nice, smiling so prettily up at him with shy eyes and red cheeks, small and soft in that way he gets whenever he’s in Kibum’s lap. It’s too much, and Kibum breaks so easily, fitting his hands around Jinki’s waist and nosing into the curve of his neck to brush his lips in a soft kiss to his skin.

“Baby,” he ends up murmuring, “pause the movie, okay?”

Jinki draws in a quick, tight breath before nodding and turning to do as he’s told, and he whines when Kibum types in those first few letters to go to the site again. He buries his face in Kibum’s neck, mumbling out a shy, “Thought you didn’t…”

“Thought I wouldn’t notice, baby? But you’d look so pretty, my pretty baby boy with his pretty panties.”

And there’s the word - Jinki’s breath catches in his throat and he whines again, softer, needier. “Not fair, Kibummie!”

“I’m not allowed to call my baby pretty?” and before Jinki can pout and protest, Kibum points to a pair that’s caught his eye from the beginning. “I think you’d look gorgeous in these, baby.”

They’re pretty and delicate, lavender and lace, and Jinki flushes even more as he nods. “I liked those too, Kibummie. And these?” It’s not a question, but Jinki phrases it like one, scrolling down a little like he’s memorized the site before stopping on a pretty light blue pair. They’re boyshorts, less lacey and dainty than the pair Kibum had chosen, but they’re still pretty and soft.

“Pick out the ones you want, baby boy, I’ll buy them for you.”

When Jinki turns to look at Kibum, his eyes are wide and his mouth dropped open. “Kibummie-”

“You’re not burdening me, baby. I want to see you in them too.”

“I…okay, Kibummie. Thank you.”

Kibum hums and nods, catching Jinki around the waist again and drifting into his own thoughts while Jinki peruses the site again, making pleased little noises and click click clicking as he goes. When he’s done, he turns back around, a radient little smile on his lips as he wordlessly asks for Kibum’s approval, and Kibum gives it with a kiss and the choice of rush shipping, and even if it costs more that way, the excited noise Jinki makes and the kisses pressed to his mouth more than make up for it.

Kibum is out when the panties arrive - he comes home to find Jinki fidgeting on the couch with the box in front of him, and he springs up when Kibum shuffles inside and toes off his shoes. “Kibummie! I wanted to open it, but I didn’t!”

“Proud of you, baby boy. Brought you doughnuts, do you want one?”

“Not yet, I wanna open them. Please, can we?”

“Of course, baby boy.” Kibum sits where Jinki’s directed him to, huffing out a little breath of laughter when Jinki plops himself down in Kibum’s lap, the box on the couch in front of them both.

“Can I…?” he asks, and the way his voice tilts up tells Kibum exactly what he’s asking.

“Always, baby. I like it too.”

Jinki wiggles a little, nosing back to kiss Kibum’s jaw before turning back around and opening the box carefully, carefully. He pulls out the first pair of panties even more gently, wiggling again because of how pretty they are. They’re a pretty pastel mint green, and Jinki beams as he shows Kibum.

“Pretty, Jinki. Can I see the rest?”

Jinki nods and puts the first pair carefully down before picking up the next, pale pale pink and see through, a third that are a plain, pretty gray. But as Jinki keeps going through the box, his gaze keeps falling on the pink see-through ones, and Kibum has to stop him.

“Jinki, baby, do you want to do something for me?”

“Please,” Jinki whispers, and it’s so honest that a current of heat swoops through Kibum’s stomach.

“Be a good boy for me and put these on. Daddy wants to see how pretty you’ll look with them on, so try that on, and I’ll wait here.”

Jinki’s breath catches on the high, breathy noise he makes, and he nods, small and soft and shy in Kibum’s lap. “Okay, daddy.”

“Good boy,” Kibum murmurs, brushing soft kisses to Jinki’s cheeks and lips and forehead before letting him slip from his lap to let him go.

When Jinki comes back, his cheeks are burning pink, and he’s got his lip bitten between his teeth, shier than Kibum’s ever seen and hunched down, small. “Daddy,” he whines, “it’s embarrassing!”

“Why is it embarrassing, baby boy? Show me.”

“Daddy!”

“Daddy wants to see, can you be good and show me?”

“Don’t wanna.” But he wants to, Kibum can tell. It’s clear in the way he fidgets, the uncertainty of his fingers as they twist at the hem of his sweater.

“Come here, Jinki.” And Jinki comes, sliding easily into Kibum’s lap and only grumbling quietly when Kibum’s hands fall to palm at his ass.

“Can you show me?”

Jinki whines again, a half-hearted protest even as he pulls up the front of his sweater to show off the panties. They look even prettier than Kibum thought they would, and Jinki’s cheeks glow a soft pink to match. “Do you like them?” Jinki sounds shy, uncertain, and Kibum frowns a little.

“I love them, baby boy. You look gorgeous, so pretty for daddy.”

The flustered smile that curves up Jinki’s lips makes Kibum’s heart melt. “Really, Kibummie?”

“Mmhm, daddy’s pretty baby boy.”

“Kibummie!” Jinki protests, but he’s giggling as he whines, and even that is muffled into Kibum’s mouth when he leans up for another soft kiss.

[stringofhearts]

“Jinki, do you believe in reincarnation?”

Jinki looked back at him quizzically. Kibum continued without looking at him. “Where I’m from, we don’t just believe in reincarnation, we know it for certain.

“When I was young, my parents told me never to promise to love someone forever because your heart will always be longing for them, tortured to love that person for all eternity. I didn’t believe them until I fell in love with someone who was very special to me. And I promised to love him forever. He was my first love, my only love. He had a smile that could light even the darkest corner, a mystery that no one could match, a heart more fragile than glass, and he was mine.”

Kibum sat down next to Jinki and looked at him

“That person is you, Jinki. You have lived for 2,000 years and I have loved you for nearly all of them.

[princessjinki]

what now

This is a sneak peak for an au that I've been working on, hope you guys like it! 

Jinki checked his phone for the fifth time that evening, he stared at the digital clock and almost threw his phone in frustration. Setting his phone back on the restaurant table, he felt like the biggest idiot in all of South Korea.

Of course, Kibum wouldn’t show up, it was a Tuesday for god’s sake. Jinki should have not trusted him when he promised to show up for their date. The date that was supposed to be a make up date for the Other date that Kibum had to cancel last minute for work.

That’s all what his boyfriend did lately, work work work. He had naively thought that Kibum would show up for their date that was on a workday, when the idiot never showed up on dates that were on weekends.

‘’sir, would you like to order anything?’’, the waiter that had been watching him since he stepped foot in the place asked. Jinki shook his head and awkwardly stood from his chair, he has clearly overstayed his welcome.

‘’no thank you, I was waiting for a friend and they didn’t show up.’’ Jinki grabbed his phone and jacket and left the premises of the restaurant. Better to leave that table for a date where no one was stood up on.

As Jinki stood dejectedly outside the restaurant, he contemplated calling Kibum. But what would the call result in anyway? He had already called the younger male three times and to no avail, no one answered. Shoving his phone into his pockets, the brunette shivered at the cold. He should have worn a thicker coat.

    The sound of a door closing woke jinki from his slumber, he listened to the sound of footsteps. The pit pat of footsteps got closer to the bedroom. The creak of the bedroom door signaled the entry of kibum followed by the sound of the bathroom door being opened and then shut.

minutes torturously passed until finally kibum got out of the bathroom.

Jinki shut his eyes and evened out his breath when he felt the mattress dip behind him, he heard a sight and then felt a warm breath on his neck. The smell of toothpaste and that night cream that kibum adored flooded his senses. Cold arms made their way around his waist and he felt a solid chest behind his back.

‘’sorry baby, I really wanted to show up this time. We had an urgent meeting and I left my phone in my office. I’m so sorry onyu’’ was whispered softly into his ears.

Jinki winced at the use of his childhood nickname, kibum must have known he really fucked up to use that name. Such a cheap strategy.

The apology was followed with a kiss on the crown of his head.

Kibum presumed he was forgiven when jinki interlaced their fingers together and muttered a “I’m tired, let’s talk about it tomorrow”.

He wasn’t.  

[onthighsbelongtotaemin]

I think this also would be cute for a prompt 😊, onjongkey getting ready for an ugly sweater Christmas party only to discover their sweaters are incredibly itchy & they are tired from a long schedule so they stay home to cuddle and help relieve each other's itchiness by scratching ofc (just fluffy Christmas cuteness please?💚❤️😌)

this was super cute so i hope i wrote it super cute.  thanks.word count: 899

“Oh my god!  Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Jinki screeches as he struggles his way out of the bright green sweater with the enormous print of a reindeer face.  The stare shocking white eyes dashes around the room as he flails his arms helplessly. 

Jonghyun runs past him with his head caught inside a blazingly white sweater with a dizzying pattern of red snowflakes that made it look the sky was snowing blood.   A muffled cry of “Bummie!” comes from within his woolly prison and there are red stripes on his exposed torso that in the right light gives the impression that the bloody snowflakes were melting down his stomach.

Kibum himself had only just gotten unbound from the shackles of his own woolly trap.  The cherry red abomination lay abandoned on the floor with its dizzying array of holly and attachable mistletoe.

“Hold still, Jonghyunnie!” he cries, dashing topless after his boyfriend and sighing in relief as the cool air hit his still burning skin.  Immediately, Jonghyun freezes and Kibum quickly pushes him down by the shoulders, grabbing at the sweater sat halfway up his back, pushing one bare foot against his naked stomach, and pulling as hard as he can.  After a brief struggle, the sweater pops over Jonghyun’s head and he throws it over his shoulder towards where his own lies forgotten down the hall.

“Thank you!” Jonghyun cries, grabbing Kibum up in a hug that quickly turns into him rubbing against Kibum in a way that on any other day might have been foreplay but today was just him trying to relieve an itch.

“BUMMIE!” Jinki cries, startling them both, “JONGHYUNNIE!  IT ITCHES!”  He’s dancing around the room, his sweater halfway off but still trapping him inside and there’s a growing panic in his voice.  Kibum knows he’s getting scared if he’s calling for Jonghyun too.

They hurry over and each grab at the base of his sweater and brace a foot on each of his thighs, tugging as hard as they can until it pops over their boyfriend’s head.  Kibum tosses it over with the others and turns back just in time to catch his balance when Jinki grabs them both up in a hug of relief.

“It itches!” he cries into their ears.  “It still itches!”  Kibum flinches and pushes him gently away.  He sucks air through his teeth when he sees faint red outlines on Jinki’s skin just like on Jonghyun’s, though Jonghyun’s thankfully have begun to fade.  Looking down, he’s grateful to see that there are none on his own.

“OK, OK.  The sweaters are gone, we’re good.  Let’s just go sit down and scratch until the itching stops.”  Jinki, who started scratching his own shoulder and Jonghyun’s as soon as Kibum started talking nods and follows his boyfriends down the hall, fingernails working against Jonghyun’s skin the whole way.

They get to the living room and take a seat on the floor and try to make a circle so that everyone can get their back scratched at the same time.  Finally, Kibum gets fed up and decides that they’ll just sit on the sofa and rub calamine lotion on each other’s back and if they still need scratches then they’ll figure it out.

“I’ll need scratches,” Jonghyun whimpers.  Jinki doesn’t say so but Kibum’s pretty sure he’s thinking it too.

He makes Jonghyun rub his back for whining and to get it over with.  Then he puts lotion on Jinki’s back and then on Jonghyun’s since he’s already got it on his hands.  After that, they put on soft shirts and pull on a warm blanket and cuddle up on the sofa with Jinki in the middle because he looked the saddest and he didn’t whine.  And also because that way Jonghyun can put his head on Jinki’s shoulder and have his back scratched while Kibum can put his legs up on Jinki’s lap.

“What was on those sweaters?  Poison Ivy?!” Jinki asks incredulously as his fingernails work into Jonghyun’s shoulder blades. 

“If I didn’t know better,” Kibum says bitterly, absently scratching at his neck, “I’d say it was a trick by Minho or Taemin.  On the night we’re supposed to compete against them for ugliest Christmas sweaters ours just happen to end up a size too small and so itchy they made your skin splotchy.”  Jinki snorts and shakes his head.

“You know, this is even better than winning.  Minho must be losing his mind waiting for us to show up with our sweaters.  It’s worth it just to imagine the look on his face.  I hope Taemin sends a pic.” 

As if on cue, Jinki’s phone begins to vibrate on the kitchen table followed quickly by Kibum’s in the bedroom and Jonghyun’s on the entryway table.  They ignore them and soon, after five calls to Kibum, five to Jonghyun, and one to Jinki, notorious for not answering his calls, the vibrations stop.

“Actually,” Jonghyun says softly, “This is even better than winning because it’s just us.”  Kibum snorts and mutters “Sap” even as Jinki pats his leg and squeezes his shin.  Jonghyun’s not wrong but he won’t let him know.  Not out loud.  But he does poke him in the ribs and smile when Jonghyun looks his way.  After all, Christmas is about being with the ones you love and he loves Jinki and Jonghyun very much. 

Even when they’re whiny saps.

[digimonfinderskeepers]

Okay funny story uuuh

I kinda hurt my hand... and should probably refrain from excessive writing?? I mean the edits were just prose exercise for myself so there’s no real rush, but I’m still kinda bummed that I can’t be fast and cool. :’c

Onkei’s unofficial translation is thankfully still happening, though! :D

[burningucci]

This is for @leetaeminmom who sent me this prompt ages ago but I finally got time to complete it!! It’s more on the symbolistic side of things, and it’s from Key’s POV, so I apologize if it’s not what you were hoping for. Either way, I hope you like it dear, thanks for being patient with me! :) 

Prompt: Onkey; Based on the poem: 

you fell in love with my flowers

Falling in love with you was like diving off a cliff into the summer sea. Exhilarating and terrifying all at once, with my heart in my throat and every atom in my body telling me to back away from the edge, but leaping anyways. And from the moment I was surrounded by you, all warmth and salty tears, I knew that I would jump a million times over just to feel this way with you again and again.

And so began the cycle, the moon pulling you away at low tide only for you to return back to me, edge’s lapping where my toes were buried into the sand. I would wait there for endless infinities just to see you again, because you were a beautiful tempest that sung to me like a siren to a sailor, never letting me out of your grasp even when I knew I was blind to the jagged rocks that threatened to send me to the bottom of the ocean. I wanted to drown in you, wanted to surrender to you, and so I did.

Even suffocating, my eyes could never be drawn away from you.

but not with my roots

It began slowly, so softly that I thought it was the wind whispering through the trees. There was no outward sign that anything had changed, and if there was I must’ve been oblivious to it, for love makes a man blind to these kinds of things.

Your siren song had faded out, a mere warble amongst the cacophony of the island village that resided not too far from shore, their voices gaining in force the longer you retreated away. Away from us.

Away from me.

Some days I would find you tucked up into the corner of the couch that was home to so many memories, the warmth that once brimmed to the top of this apartment now a faint glow, like a testament to the times before we knew what we were doing but did them anyways. I never really knew what to say, my words could be impulsive and harsh and that wasn’t what you needed. And maybe that was it, perhaps I wasn’t what you needed after all this time but I thought… I thought I was what you wanted. Maybe I was wrong about that too.

so when autumn arrived you didn’t know what to do

It was when your hand stopped seeking out for mine that I knew the end was nigh, and the moon had stolen you away for good. It was like a winter chill had settled over us, the water’s edge beginning to freeze over oh so carefully and would break into shards at the slightest pressure. I could break you with one footfall, but I never knew how to fix you.

I could breathe clearly now, no longer suffocating in your warmth, but I would take the hazy warmth over icy clarity any day.  The crisp air burnt my lungs on every inhalation, the pain ripping me away from you and splitting the chasm that had already begun to form between us.

Why was this happening? Where had we gone wrong? Why didn’t your eyes meet mine anymore from across the room, like we had done so often before to distract ourselves from the mind-numbing sameness of radio shows and interviews?

I was losing you without an inkling of how to save you.

And so, the moon stole you away; the shore dried up and was carried off in the breeze as if you were never there, taking my footprints with it.

[fluffygreenkoala]

So since there aren't any Kokyu no Karasu/Raven of the inner palace fics anywhere and that's BLASPHEMOUS, I started writing some one-shots revolving around Shouxue/Jusetsu and her friendship with Jiujiu and the tongue-less sweet lady (can't remember her name, I'm horrible).

Also except some Shouxue/Jusetsu and Gaojun/Koushun BROTP + Wei Qing/Eisei being in love with his master

AND Shouxue/Jusetsu x Wen Ying/Onkei, because they're my OTP.

[unseelie-robynx]

Doppelganger AU - White Fur

So @winterpower98 drew this, and then @animemoonprincess wrote this, and so i ended up inspired to write this little snippet set in the Doppleganger AU

______________________________________________________

Macaque’s fists were flying. He saw red. He couldn’t tell if there was actually blood or if he was just flashbacks. Because he heard the crackling hiss of the forest burning, the thunder of snapping ang collapsing trees ringing in his ear’s despite knowing that they were on Sha Wujing ’s air ship.

“….ky King!”

That bastard! He was treating it like a joke! Like a game! Like just another thing the oh so great sage could play around with and make light of. Just like everything else!

“…onkey King!”

But what had he even expected? Had he realy thought it would be any difrent? That Sun Wukong would actually care about what had happened to him? Of course not, he should have known better, why hadn’t he known better?

“Monkey King!” This time the panic scream was accompanied with a large thud as something, no someone, the Kid slammed into him and they ended up rolling off to the side.

“Dammit kid, get off me!!” He snarled.

MK only clung tighter, trying to pin his arms. “Ma—Monkey King, I don’t know what MACAQUE did to make you so upset but you have to calm down!”

“He knows exactly what the Hell he did!” Macaque spat managing to wrench one of his arms free.

“N..no.” Came a quiet voice, and Macaque jerked his head to the sound. “No. I don’t, I don’t think I do.”

Macaque couldn’t help it as his lips pulled back, barring his fangs at, well, himself. Blessedly with his soot black fur, its proper color, the only color is should ever, could ever be after what had happened. Macaque was sure if Sun Wukong’s illusion still bore the mockery of what was once silvery and pure, he would lose it.

Again.

“Don’t mock me, Macaque.” He spat at the Monkey King. “You don’t get to make a mockery of that night, of what happened to us. You weren’t there so don’t you dare claim the right to make light of everything like that!”

“Ma—Monkey. What are you talking about?” The bastard had the gal to honestly look confused.

Macaque might have blacked out. All he knew was that he was being held aloft by Sha Wujing as he snarled and cursed.

“—they laughed as they set the fires you know! The damn celestials were laughing as the set Mount Huaguo ablaze, mocking and calling it justice! And where were you? Nowhere! No when people actually needed you, you were nowhere to be found! All because of your thrice damned pride!”

“You weren’t there either!” It looks like the Kid had taken to holding the disguised Monkey King Back as well, although at this point their audience had apparently grown significantly, and was looking extremely confused.

Macaque couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh at Sun Wukong’s words. “I wasn’t there? Of course I was there! I was right in the heart of the blaze, I heard them scream, I heard them die when I wasn’t fast enough.”

The echoes of dying gasps and stuttering heartbeats echoes through Macaque’s mind.

“I don’t know how many times I fell to the blaze. Again and again and again. As the trees fell and the ground seared, and ash and soot charred even the air itself.”

“N..no.” the look of realization and denial Sun Wukong was displaying sat strangely on the face he borrowed from Macaque, “That’s not… you weren’t… you’re still…”

Alive is left unsaid.

Macaque couldn’t help it, he broke out into hysterical laughter, something that caused the onlookers to take a step back, evidently thinking they were watching the Monkey King come completely unhinged.

“My name’s not in Book of Life and Death anymore, remember? I can die a thousand times, each more painful than the last, and every time I do, I. Just. Wake. Back. Up.”

Idly Macaque thought he should probably savor the look of dawning horror and realization in the other immortal’s eyes, but somehow it just tasted bitter.

Like ash.

“Put me down Sandy.”

“I’m not so sure—”

“Put me down. I need to be alone.”

The Water Spirit obliged, and Macaque took the opportunity to bolt down into the bowls of the ship.

He needed to be alone.

He needed to get himself back under control.

He needed to be as far away from Sun Wukong as he physically possible right now.