#we simply don't know what it's like to live without crumbs

[softiedingo]

I just woke up and then there's this man wearing a tight leather jacket 🥹

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Moving in :- After you agree to raise the fushiguro kids along with gojo satoru, it's time to move in together.

You wipe the crumbs of the chocolate chip cookie Tsumiki munched from her lips.

'can I have one more?' she pleaded with doe eyes. 'yes ofcourse sweetie. Here, have as many as you want.' Handling the pack of cookies to little Tsumiki, who was happy to munch on some more.

Megumi kept watching the scenary outside from the car window. Tsumiki offered him some cookies before but he refused and simply shook his head.

Gojo was driving the car, very soon you guys will reach to your shared apartment. After gojo asked you for a favour and you agreed, it took about a week to find an apartment which was empty and close to the Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Till then the kids were at your place. You got to know a little about them and observe them closely. You four could have lived at your place but your apartment was on the very outskirts of Tokyo and the kids need to go to school, which was far away from yours. So you guys decided to find another one.

It wasn't perfect but can accommodate the four of you easily. It's cozy and comfy and once you guys move in you can make it even more lively.

'Megumi, you want something else? I've got some cakes too. And even candies and juice.' Megumi shook his head in a 'no' without even bothering to turn around. Something you understood very well on the first week of living with the fushiguro kids is that, Megumi is the opposite of Tsumiki. She opened up to you on the very first day, but he didn't. It was very clear that he disliked your presence.

Megumi is a reserved boy and as far as you've noticed nothing excites him. It's not his fault though, the kid must have gone through so much in such a tender age.

'Give me some of those candies.' satoru drawled while driving the car, peeking at you from the back mirror. You sighed giving him a handful of candies.

Megumi refused to sit with him in the front seat, so satoru had no other option stuffing the rest of the boxes in there. Sure the kid doesn't likes him too.

'then you want something else? We can stop by some shops to get whatever you like?' you propose, trying to get his attention but his sole response was 'no'. You give up at this point.

The car haulted as you looked outside of the window. You guys reached your new apartment. Your lips curled in a small smile. Taking in Tsumiki's hand you get out of the car. Gojo gets Megumi out.

'From now onwards we will be living here! gojo announced excitingly, 'Like it kids?'

'Yes!' Tsumiki chirped in her cheerful voice, while the glum faced Megumi remained silent, surely annoyed at gojo. He frees his hand from gojo's and comes near to stand beside Tsumiki.

You chuckle at gojo's offended face. 'Kk, gojo sensei will be bringing the stuff up while we go and take a look at our new home.' you announce, when gojo interrupts, 'what? You guys won't be helping me?'

'well, no.'

'why? How am I supposed to take all of these stuff up alone? I don't have four hands like—'

You take both the kids and walk ahead leaving a complaing gojo behind. Megumi, all silent till now, looked back at gojo. A smug smile plastered on his face, took gojo by surprise and amusement.

You felt Megumi's grip on your fingers tighten, as you guided both the fushiguro kids inside of the elevator to the fifth floor of the apartment.

Gojo watched you guys disappear, as a chuckle surpasses his lips, a fuzzy feeling rushed through him. This is the first time he saw Megumi smile.

'Seems I made the right decision.' he thought to himself, walking up to the trunk of his car, unloading the luggage.

Extras-:

'are the kids fast asleep?' gojo asks unpacking another suitcase, while you enter the room.

'yeah, the day must have been rough for you.' He stopped whatever he was doing, darting a look unfamiliar to you.

'Shall I make the night rough for you, love?'

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 2

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe's never had too much trouble adapting.

Warnings: NONE HERE.

I'm very sorry this took 3 MONTHS to post... a lot has happened. Hopefully the future will have faster updates. Also, this part is pretty short and I don't really like it, but I I'm reminding myself that it's all just building up. Until next time!

It’s noon when I’m buzzed up to the apartment. Love caught you up on the last minute changes. Still, you open the door with hesitancy and step back without once looking me in the eye. I peel my boots off, taking my time to really look around the living room. There’s nothing of interest here anymore, now knowing this isn’t your place and these aren’t your things. When I make my way to the corner table by the couch, I pick up a frame. Another picture without you in it.

“She had a lot of friends,” You sniff. I turn to look at you. “Left almost everything to them, actually.”

“What a great mom…” I comment and set the picture back in place. “What did she leave you?”

You look around the apartment, gesturing about. I look too, but nothing else catches my eye. Where are your things?

“Garbage.” You respond. You rub your nose then, when I don’t respond, and sniff again. You still don’t meet my eyes.

“This apartment, too?” I inquire, but you shake your head.

“In a way… she left me with the bill. I can’t afford a place in LA on my own, and It’s costing me money I don’t have for this place to sit unoccupied. So, I’m clearing it for new tenants before the month’s over.”

I rub the back of my neck. Your mom sounds like a bitch, but I’d like to stay focused and get the real job here out of the way. “Should we get started?”

“Yeah, uh… First things first,” You start, pointing behind you toward the kitchen. “We have to throw everything edible in the cupboards out.”

“Everything?”

“Everything. It all has to go. I already cleared the fridge this morning.”

You walk around the kitchen island, bend down to pull out a drawer, and come back to the surface with a few plastic garbage bags. I take one, and we begin.

The cupboards themselves seem to be in good condition, until I pulled one open and the knob comes right off. We laughed. You reassured me it had happened to you too, and that you simply pushed it back into place. After throwing the few cereal boxes left inside into my garbage bag, I did the same. The inside of these cupboards are dusty, and the small black pellets left behind look more like mouse shit than they do crumbs. I’ll have to tell Love I was right about the rodents.

I reach over and take a metal tin. Something jostles inside as I bring it to my ear. You peer over from your corner and jump.

“Not that,” you say as you reach over to take the tin out of my hands. “Love made those.”

“And your mom’s been keeping them in her cupboard?”

“No, of course not,” You roll your eyes and start prying it open. “Love gave them to me the other day. They're homemade cookies.”

When the cover comes off, I see six golden cookies spread out. They look good.

I look up at you, wondering.

“You can take one, I don’t mind.” You say.

I reach in and take a cookie, bringing it between my teeth not a moment sooner. I bite.

The flavour is sweet and tangy. Lemon, I recognised it quickly… You can really taste Love in them. But, I can’t help but sulk a little; she doesn’t make me cookies, I think sourly.

“Good, right?” you ask, taking one for yourself before shutting the tin. You split a piece off and pop it into your mouth. I watch the action, chewing away at my bite. I feel cold. Upset. I’m growing bitter at the thought of Love making treats specially for you. I’m jealous, I know. Jealousy and I know each other remarkably well.

Once the cupboards are empty of the numerous snack boxes your mom seemed to endlessly collect, we tie the garbage bags and bring them to the front door.

We spend the rest of the afternoon wiping the surfaces clean, scrubbing the tiles, and making sure anyone could feasibly lick spilt milk off the fucking floors.

As you scrub away at the floors with a brush, I wipe down the inside of the cupboards – rat shit and all. We’ve engaged in small talk throughout – mostly on the subject of your family life since the split. You lived with your dad up until recently. He never remarried.

“How’s Love?” You suddenly ask me. You hadn’t seen her since the dinner… probably the longest you’d gone since the ten years before. I groan, but you don't hear it.

“She’s been good,” I say. “She’s out of town with Forty today.”

“And… you?”

“What about me?” I smile, looking down as you pause your scrubbing. You don’t look up at me as you spray tile cleaner down.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, I’ve just been helping you tidy the place up.”

I watch you smile at that.

“And I appreciate it,” You huff, grabbing a rag to wipe the suds. You look up at me then, and I watch as your eyes shy away the moment you notice me staring.

“I think I’m done with the cupboards.” I state.

“Right,” You acknowledge. “I’m just finishing up here and I think we can call it a day.”

By the time we’re done, two full garbage bags have been tossed in the communal bin outside. The kitchen’s done, clean, as pristine as any of LA’s cheapest apartments can get. I stretch my back as I check my phone. Already 4 o’clock.

“Hey, Will?” You ask as I crack my knuckles and make my way to the front door. “Do you have somewhere you need to be right now?” I turn to look at you. Your lips are tucked in, eyes curious.

“I don’t have to be anywhere in particular, no.” I answer, crouching to slide on my boots. “Why?”

“I was thinking of treating you to lunch.” You say, chewing on your lip as you tear your eyes away. “To thank you for helping out. Would you be okay with that?”

I’m surprised as I tie up my laces unsteadily. “Yeah, sure. I don’t think I’d mind that – Isn’t it already 4 pm?” You could almost make me blush.

“A late lunch, then. Calling it dinner just sounds like a date.” You say, laughing your comment off with a wave. I nod slowly, thinking. Just a treat… and I have nothing waiting for me at home.

“Sure, sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect, let me grab my purse.”

—

We’re seated in the far back of a dingy diner. The waitress sets down two glasses of water before leaving us alone with the menu. You drop your familiar jingling bag right by your side in the booth and lift the glass to your lips. Your hands set it down a moment later, my eyes continue to linger on them while you talk.

“So, how did you and Love meet?”

“Anavrin, can you believe it?” I say playfully.

“Really?” You respond with surprise as you lift your arm, drop your elbow on the table, and rest your chin on your palm. “How did that go?”

If I said I followed her around for a while, got a job where she worked, and she still made a move on me first, would you believe me? I think I’ll just skip to the good part.

“Okay, so… She picks up this peach, and–” Before I can finish, you put your hand out to stop me.

“Wait, let me guess…” You hold off for a few seconds and raise your brows. “She said it looked like a butt?”

“Actually, she asked me if it looked like a butt.” I reply snarkily and you roll your eyes.

“Same difference.” You say as you wave me off.

“Oh no…” I feign a ground-breaking realisation, my gestures playful as I can’t help but smile. “Don’t tell me I fell for an overly used pick-up line…”

“Ah, I really couldn’t tell you how often she used it, if at all,” You take a deep breath before continuing with a smile. “but I remember we had an ongoing joke like that – about peaches and butts.”

“I guess you’ve left an impact.”

“I guess so.” You look around, suddenly sheepish as you take a sip of your water, again. You change the subject. “Know of any good bookstores around here? I’ve been gone for so long that any of the places I can recall have been bought out and replaced.”

“Well, there’s Anavrin. Where I work. With books.” We both crack a smile again and you nearly laugh in my face. I raise my brows and slowly nod my head to really hammer in that I wasn’t kidding.

“Right. I’m not looking for vegan cookbooks or autobiographies.” Cute, you’re trying to be funny.

“Oh, come on!” I grip my chest and feigned a painful jab to my heart. “I’m sure I can get you the book you’re looking for. If it isn’t in stock, I can order some copies.”

“You’d do that for me?” You tilt your head in such a curious way and I feel myself getting warm under my shirt.

“Of course! So, what’re you looking for?”

“I – Nothing yet… I’ll let you know. I’m working on a project.”

“Ooh – If you don’t mind me asking, what’s this project for?”

“Hmm… mostly myself. I don’t have a job so I spend my hours reading and writing.”

“You can make a career out of writing.” I assure you.

“But then it wouldn’t be fun! The moment I have a deadline, I don’t want to work anymore.” You pout.

“I take it you have money set aside?”

“Yes – kind of. I had money set aside, but…” You look away, clicking your tongue as you think. Your lips part for a moment, as though you were ready to say something, but you hesitate. “Yeah. Just a bit.”

“I don’t mean to pry, and – and you can just tell me you don’t want to answer anything – were you close with your mom? Before everything, I mean.”

“No,” You laugh while lacking the joke. “She never liked me. I think she just never wanted kids. Maybe she felt threatened by having a daughter. And, actually, as a testament of her hatred, she left me with nothing but the overpriced apartment.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I frown.

“Oh, trust me when I say you’re already doing more than enough. I’ll be out of there sooner than later, and I won’t have to worry about payments weighing me down.”

You lift your arm and your hand falls to the single laminated menu between us. You look through it slowly. I watch you, and I feel pity.

“You said you like writing,” I begin, opting to change the subject.

“Correct.” You reply robotically before looking up at me.

“Have you ever thought about publishing any of your work?”

“Maybe one day. It’s never been a priority of mine, but I’ve thought about it before.”

“Do you have anything I could read so far? Might be able to give some pointers, advice… you name it.”

“Of course! But – but I’d prefer to read it over again beforehand. I have a strange process; it may not even be comprehensible in its current state.” You laugh and I can’t help but chuckle along.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh ease up on it! I can see why Love likes you so much,” You say. “You’re very supportive.”

I smile at the comment, feeling content. You’re not so bad yourself.

“Know what you’re getting?” I suddenly ask, bringing both of our attention back to the menu. You bounce and look down.

“I was thinking about a club sandwich,” you say, “What about you?”

“I mean, I haven’t looked at the menu yet.” I laugh and realization hits you. The menu is spun to face me as your finger hits the page.

“This is what I’m getting – the club sandwich,” Your finger slides down to the selection below it. “They also have a BLT option,” and below that, “mac and cheese, corn dogs…” and as you continue to talk, my mind begins to blank. My eyes dawdle on the movement of your hands, following where they had been on the sheet as your words drift off into nothing, but your voice remains. I’m thinking about the softness of the way you’re speaking to me, serenely, and I’m entranced by the sound.

“Do you know what you’d like?” I’m snapped out of my daze, my thoughts. My eyes shoot up to look at you and you tilt your head with the question still fresh in the air. I blink.

I… like……

I look back down and point at something simple. Quite frankly, the options at local diners tend to be, for a lack of a better term, just as expected.

“Fries?” You ask and I blink a few more times. I wasn’t really thinking, actually.

“Yeah, I mean. What a great lunch, right?” You laugh and ask me again, but I reassure you a plate of fries is just fine.

When the waitress makes her rounds, we place our orders. She refills our waters and we meld back into simple conversation.

As we spend the next few hours talking, even when our food arrives. I watch you pick at your plate. You’re slow to eat because you talk so much. You’re opening up like never before, and I’m slipping into a familiar feeling I hadn’t expected. When you finish your fries, you ask. “Can I pick off your plate?” and I let you because you gave me half of your sandwich to try. I watch the way my fries slip past your lips and, when you swallow, I watch that too. I swallow too, too.

I need to fuck Love.

—

“Hey, Will,” you inquire on our walk back to the apartment. The chit chat was nice, even if the lunch was unappetizing. Fries alone don’t sate much. “Would you be able to stop by tomorrow? To help a bit more?”

“Well,” I laugh. “I work tomorrow,”

“Right,” You close your eyes and tuck your lip, nodding. “I just–”

“I can come over on my next day off, if you really need the extra set of hands.”

“That would be really helpful,” You sigh contently, shoulders dropping. “Thank you.”

“How does Tuesday sound? You think you’d be free then?”

“Oh, I’m free,” You assure me. “I don’t have much else to do in the city.”

Your phone rings – the sound like the chime of a bell – and you fish it out of your purse to answer it.

“It’s Love,” You tell me as you accept the call and put it to your ear. We stop our promenade and you turn away, no doubt to feel like you have a crumb of privacy.

“Hey, Lovey,” You sigh. I can practically hear the smile on your lips as you step around distractedly. I rub my nose and watch you. I can’t hear Love from this distance.

“Actually, I – I already ate,” You laugh, pushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear as you turn around. You’re watching your shoes as you languidly pace, suddenly unaware of the world moving around you as you listen to the call. I take hold of your forearm and pull you to the side when someone walks by. You’re a little surprised at first, but nod at me appreciatively. I can hear Love from here, beside you, tucked closer to the buildings and out of the way of passersby.

‘With Will?’ I hear Love say.

“Yeah, with Will. It was a, uh… a thank you for helping out. He didn’t have to, you know? So…”

‘See! He’s not so bad,’ When you glance up at me, I move to look around, observing the sidewalk across the street. I can’t help a smile from creeping up.

“You’re right,” You huff. “But, um… We’ll talk again later, okay? Will and I are still walking back to the apartment.”

’Sure thing, babe,’ I bite the inside of my cheek, but my smile doesn’t falter. ‘Lunch tomorrow?’

“Yeah, tomorrow. Hope things went well with Forty today,”

When you hang up, I turn my head to look at you. You look forward, defeated.

“Good?” I ask.

“Yeah, good.” You reply, already continuing our path back to the apartment. I follow while you lead ahead.

“I’m not so bad, eh?” I throw in, and you glance behind to roll your eyes at me. I laugh and catch up to you, nudging your shoulder. You huff and finally laugh along too.

"Not so bad at all," You shake your head and huff.

We part ways in front of the building, exchanging lazy waves as you hop up the steps.

"See you on Tuesday," I say.

I watch you the way I had that other night, clumsily twisting your key, pushing on the door too soon. When the door's unlocked and finally opens, you turn to look at me one last time, waving again.

"Tuesday!" You confirm, slipping through the crack.

I turn away, making my way back to my car.

[quantum1mmortality]

Can we get more vampire raiden..🥺

Mayhaps

Tw/cw: same shit as Kung Lao different character, AFAB reader warning tho

Not proofread

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

Would definitely be the younger vampire out of him and Kung Lao. I feel as though Kung Lao most likely was the one that turned him

Raiden would be an even sweeter lover than Kung Lao. He'd try his best to go to cafés with you but he'd end up hurting himself because of the sun :( thats why doordash exists tho!

Hes very much into love making as well, I feel like he'd love shower sex too. Like imagine you guys just got done a long session of 4 rounds. Your body is limp and Raiden is carrying you in the shower, washing you and telling you how good you did.

Suddenly he looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. He tells you how badly he needs you, begs you to go for just one more round. If you aren't up for it, he won't push you, he'd never. But if you are, he'll be taking you on the shower floor right then and there.

I think the main reason he likes shower sex is because every sound made echoes. Your moaning, whimpering, skin slapping against skin, everything echoes and he loves it.

Unlike Kung Lao, he will make small nibbles throughout your body during sex. He'd absolutely draw small amounts of blood, lapping at them and his eyes rolling into the back of his skull when he does.

He'd be obsessed with marking you, whether it be visible or not. He'd make small bite marks on the inside of your thighs, your chest, neck, anywhere you want them.

He'd also go insane over period sex. Everything about it turns him on. He'd cum instantly if you told him you were in your period. It gets to the point where he sometimes wishes you had it everyday and not just once a month.

He usually fucks into the mattress while eating you out, trying his best to cum with you. Instead of buying you ice cream after period sex I think he'd make you pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes, to be specific.

He will penetrate you during your period. If you beg him, he'd instantly shove his cock inside you, holding onto you as if you'll drift from his grasp. He gets lightheaded when he sees the ring of cum and blood around his cock, feeling like he's in heaven.

He'd definitely be a virgin when you two meet. I feel like you guys would meet through Kung Lao and he'd be a wingman for Raiden. The first time you guys have sex he bottoms

He would be a HUGE masochist as a vampire. If you were to bite him to the point of drawing blood during sex, he'd let out such a huge moan. I'm talking house shaking type shit.

Don't even get me STARTED on the way this man is CONSTANTLY begging for a CRUMB of pussy. Completely insatiable. He'd eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if he could.

Before you guys got together, he'd definitely be fantasizing about what your blood tastes like. Is it sweet? Is it bitter? These are questions he needed to know but didn't have the answers to, and they were driving him insane.

He'd masturbate so much to the thought of you, moaning out your name as he edged himself to the brink of breaking. Would you edge him? How gentle would you be? His mind would be rushing with thoughts, quicker than what he could keep up with.

When you guys have sex for the first time, he has you ride him, simply so he can enjoy the view. He'd absolutely be guiding you, bouncing you up and down on his cock with his hands on your hips. If you were a virgin too, he'd be ecstatic about it first of all, second of all he'd be so excited to see if you bleed. Not in a douche way, he would rather die than hurt you, he just wants to be able to eat you out afterwards.

He wouldn't be like Kung Lao, he doesn't eat people. He's on a strict diet of small drops of specifically your blood. He is a strong believer that you make him stronger, that you're all he needs to succeed, so he makes it a point to be able to live off of you.

Vampires like him can't exactly starve to death. They can go centuries without without eating, even longer. But it's very hard for them to resist the temptations to eat if there is the smell of blood nearby.

Raiden has made his body used to only small amounts of blood, being able to utilize it to the best of his abilities. He usually only sucks on your blood during sex, and because of his insatiability, you guys often spend the entire day making love with the nights being full of stargazing or movie watching.

He tries his best to take care of you, buying you food and clothes while you sleep. He makes you every meal and doesn't expect anything in return. During the day, you need to keep the blinds closed, but he is more than willing to keep them open at night.

You guys take walks on the beach a lot. He loves seeing you in sundresses as he slow dances with you in the moon light on the beach. You make him feel so alive, to the point where he sometimes cries because of how happy you make him.

He'd trace his hands all over your body, digging his hands into your side as he holds you in a tight hug, whispering to you about how happy you make him.

Kung Lao DEFINITELY taught him how to treat a woman, it's one of the main reasons he's so soft with you.

He'd also probably be into you lactating... Like, he'd say it's high in protein and tbf a big boy like him needs protein!

He'd definitely be sucking on titties at every chance he gets dude I swear

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

A/n: third fic I've posted of the day guys how we feelin

[babyangelsky]

Now that part 2 of GMMTV's lineup has been officially announced, it's time to put my wishes for it out there in the universe

Because remember, the BL gods won't know to give us what we want if we don't ask for it. Manifestation works, that's why I'm finally getting Fluke Pusit as a lead.

In no particular order:

FIRSTKHAO ROMCOM. They deserve it, I deserve it, we deserve it. I know they're pretty criers but please, I want just one show without any emotional devastation.

LEADING MAN MARK PAKIN. I genuinely do not care who they pair him up with, he could have chemistry with a piece of tin foil. BUT GIVE HIM A LEAD IN HIS OWN BL! LET MY MAN SHINE LIKE HE DESERVES!

This one veers into clown territory but we all know I live at the circus so hear me out: PapangPepper. The crumbs we got in Dangerous Romance were simply not enough. I need more. I've been needing Papang in a leading role and I don't want the only time I see Pepper this year to be a tiny role in We Are. Put them together! The chemistry is there! DON'T LET PAPANG'S MDL PROFILE HAVE ONLY SUPPORT ROLES ON IT!

Since we're manifesting, I must second @respectthepetty's desire for a gym bro BL. There are so many gym bros on the roster! It would be so easy, GMMTV! NO LES CUESTA NADA!

More Ciize. Literally any iteration of Ciize. Give Ciize a GL. Give her multiple GL's. Give her the moon. JUST GIVE ME MORE CIIZE.

Now that Sammy is with GMMTV, GIVE HER TO ME! SHE'S BEEN ABSENT FROM MY SCREEN FOR TOO LONG! PAIR HER WITH CIIZE!

A sports BL. If I can't have gym bros or if we must wait for gym bros until next year, then I want a sports BL. We're getting a MeenPing basketball BL at some point this year hopefully but basketball isn't my sport of choice. I want either a soccer one or a volleyball one because I just need a third volleyball net kiss in my life.

Really I need all the faves who didn't get a show announced in part 1 to get a show announced in part 2. Give me my PerthChimon, JoongDunk, JimmySea, and ForceBook! Put JD and FB in Petty's gym bros BL!

A P'Jojo show. If he desires a break, he deserves to take one because he's had a very busy couple of years pero also he's my dad and I miss him.

This is of the utmost importance to me. *holds GMMTV by its metaphorical face* Do not ruin the tone of Boun's vampire BL. He's waited years for this project. It's his baby. Do not fuck it up. Do not drastically alter the casting. Do not take away his creative control. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.

AMEN! 🙏🏼 *goes to light a candle*

[triforce-of-mischief]

@ailesswhumptober day 24: Deconditioning

Summary: Amidst gossipy civilians who don't care for nuance, Ravio wishes that his body wasn't a visible reminder of the past he can't seem to break away from.

Contents: references to past famine, eating disorder, weight issues, body shaming

Words: 1400

AO3

Please reblog to show your support! Likes do nothing.

Ravio couldn’t help it, even after all this time; he heard the pantry open and his ears perked up, instantly alert. He ran through his mental list of reassurances before he panicked over such a little thing.

Link is home. The house is secure. Sheerow would warn me if there was a thief. It’s not mealtime yet. Link must be hungry for a snack. We have enough that he can eat and we will have food later.

That made him feel better, enough that he was calm as he stood from his desk. Ravio wasn’t hungry, he never was before dinner, but he liked to see what Link had grabbed from their stores. It was an anxious habit, one that was older than his practice with keeping inventory of his shop, and Link understood by now. When Ravio came up beside him, Link simply held out a handful of cookies for Ravio to see.

“How many is that?” Ravio asked, and counted them. There were three cookies, and he tried not to let the worry show on his face. “Three- there were three left, right?”

“Yeah, I’m finishing them,” Link said. He opened the jar, angling it so Ravio could see that there were only crumbs inside. “Did you want one?” He offered one, but Ravio shook his head.

“No, I just-” Ravio wrung his hands, knowing how stupid he would sound. “We won’t have any left.”

“They’re going to be stale soon,” Link pointed out. “We can always make more.”

“What if we don’t have the ingredients? Or the time?”

“Then we can buy some from the bakery.”

“If we’re low on rupees?”

“Ravi, when are we ever low on rupees?” Link was starting to frown at him, and Ravio hastily backed up.

“I- you know what, it’s fine, actually. Enjoy the cookies,” he said quickly, and turned on his heel.

Link knew what to expect from him, but that didn’t mean he was aware of the irrational terror that Ravio felt every time some of their food ran empty. He gave his hero reason to worry enough, and he tried to keep it that way. Link didn’t mention it again, or food at all until he asked Ravio if he wanted to visit the Milk Bar that night.

Ravio didn’t see any harm in it. He liked socializing, and odd eating habits were easier to overlook in public. The bar was busy, and the two navigated bustle and chatter to order their drinks and find a table between a pair of similarly mismatched groups. A party of Hyrulians were opposite one of Lorulians, and both conversations could easily be heard from where Ravio sat in the middle.

“It’s disgusting, really,” said a Hyrulian woman with a wave of her hand. “Our hero revives their land and how do they thank him? By gorging themselves on their newfound harvests without a care for their health or their appearance.”

“It’s a repeat of what happened with the Zora queen,” her friend agreed. “She lost her restraint, and with it, her beauty.”

“I heard that the Zora, at least, has a magical scale that keeps her size in check!” the first woman chortled. “What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on one of those!”

Ravio felt heat rush to his ears, a telltale sign of slowly rising anger. He had known for a while now that Hyrulians were a bit vain about their weight. It was the fashion to stay skinny; rounder bodies were mercilessly mocked for no real reason. Link, with his small stature and lithe, slightly muscular frame, seemed blissfully oblivious to the twittering. Ravio, on the other hand, was painfully aware of the difference in the way that he was treated compared to his fellow Lorulians.

The Hyrulian women were correct, in one regard. With the loss of the Triforce came years of famine, insecurity, hoarding… Until recently, most Lorulians had reflected the lack of reliable sustenence. Even Ravio and Hilda, living in the castle, weren’t spared the hardships of a barren land. His princess, for so long, had resembled a ghost of her possible self, gaunt and frail, and Ravio wasn’t any better. With the return of their sun, and food, most Lorulians lived much happier, healthier lives. They were proud to maintain their gained weight, a symbol that they had made it, they had survived, and they were free to eat their fill and know that there would be plenty tomorrow.

“This place still gives me a weird feeling,” a Lorulian stranger muttered from behind Ravio. “These freaks recreate our famine in an attempt to look fragile and say that we’re the ugly ones.”

“Even the few who think they can act better have the most backhanded insults masquerading as compliments,” another chimed in. “Give them a taste of their own medicine, I say. Take that twig in purple, over there. He’s so adorably brittle, I could snap his arms in two.”

Ravio’s hands- his fragile, skeletal fingers- tightened around his cup. He hated this. He hated knowing that he looked like he didn’t belong. He hated the assumption that he liked having something wrong with him.

“Link,” Ravio said quietly. “I’m going home.”

“What? But we haven’t-” Link started to protest, but Ravio had already pushed his chair back. He pulled his baggy sleeves over his hands, tugging his hood down to hide his face.

Link caught up to him before he left Kakariko, walking silently back to their house. Ravio paused just inside the front door, and Link guessed why.

“You haven’t eaten enough today, have you?” Link asked.

Ravio almost brushed it off. He knew that he hadn’t, but he wasn’t hungry- but as soon as the thought entered his head, he realized that he was. It hit him all at once and he nodded, trying not to look desperate.

“C’mon, we have plenty of cheese,” Link said, and Ravio followed him to the kitchen. Link handed him some cheese and Ravio took it, his hands shaking as he took a bite. Link brought him some bread, too, and an apple, and Ravio tried to pace himself though he felt like he might faint from hunger. He was satisfied before long and he pushed Link’s next offer away, pretending not to notice his unhappy frown. Ravio was aware that he hadn’t eaten enough for somebody who had inadvertently starved himself all day, but if he ate any more he was going to be sick.

Ravio went to lay down and Link trailed behind, sprawling on the bed beside him. Link’s hand found his and he intertwined their fingers, tracing his thumb over Ravio’s skin. Ravio tried not to squirm under the attention but Link noticed and fell still.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Link whispered.

Ravio was silent for a moment, then relented. “Why does everyone think I want to be like this? I don’t care about being skinny, and I’m not afraid of gaining weight. In fact, I want to. But I can’t. I have to convince myself that I haven’t made a grave mistake every time I eat. If I try to force myself to eat more, I’ll lose it before it does any good. I barely eat enough to get by and it’s not my choice but I don’t know how to do better. If I could adapt like the rest of Lorule and feel safe enough to eat what and when I want, I would do it in a heartbeat. I don’t have anyone who’s willing to help me- Lorulians see my very existence as proof that I hate their bodies, and Hyrulians refuse to believe that I want to change mine. I thought everything would be easier once we fixed our Triforce, but- but it’s not. It’s not for me.”

Link rolled over to face Ravio, still holding his hand. “I care. Ravio, I care so much, and I want you to know that you can talk to me about this- about anything. You grew up in a horrible situation, and it’s okay if it takes time to trust again. I want to help you stay healthy.”

“I- thank you, Link.” Ravio snuggled closer, resting his head on Link’s arm. “I wish I knew where to start. It’s not fair to ask you to help when I don’t know what needs to be done.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know,” Link said. “We don’t need to rush. You can take your time.”

[eluxcastar]

I know there's an questionable amount of 13 with Arlecchino but. Can i have 13 sandrone? Please? Or 14? There's no food going on with that doll

Sandrone experiencing a crumb of love

── ୨୧：sandrone x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: sandrone questioning why her assistant has not left on account of her delightful personality

୨୧﹑genre :: slight fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, they're not in a relationship, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 1.4k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

sandrone is written like a bitter old man LMAO, but tbh, that's just the characterisation of her I prefer. some like her motherly, and Idk I just like her being a bit grouchy and wondering why these damn kids are on her lawn (slight joke), BUT I DID TRY TO GIVE HER A HEART so you can have that consolation

I hear your burning question "Riri what happened to the fourteen part" well you see the dreadful phenomenon we all know and hardly tolerate called "I can't read" struck again BUT I had an idea retrospectively so I will do that

prompt list

Sandrone is not the most personable woman. She is aware of that fact; she just doesn't care. Many people will come and go, but, dedicated entirely to her work, she finds that adapting herself for the comfort of others is an inconvenience.

You have always been her exception, a fatuu she kept around initially out of the necessity for a helping hand to hold the torch for her or aid in the testing of her creations. There is always something that needs doing, and with that workload, the demand for an extra set of hands arises to make a place for you. Assistant isn't quite the right word, her first inclination settling on lapdog and staying there as she took great pleasure in her cruelty towards you to see how long you would last under the thumb of her snappy and curt demeanour.

Evidently, you proved to be more resilient than she expected, and with time, her intentional tormenting died down to the bare bones of her attitude. Sandrone no longer requested you complete such dangerous tasks alone or begin spiels of the unnecessarily specific detailed demands she had of you. She relaxed into a state of simply accepting that, for a little while longer than the rest, you would be there to stay.

It's almost nice to hear sounds around her workshop, formerly filled only with mechanical dolls and spare parts she keeps. A person flitters about moving tools from her wall to her hand, living, breathing, capable of speaking with or without her prompting and all too inclined towards doing it. She listens to you as you work across the room—your footsteps, the humming whenever you start when you forget she's there, the clatter of gears, even the rubbing fabric of your clothes sometimes—and it's pleasant for the silence to be filled with life.

The thought almost confuses her, really, but she'll get over it.

What she may never get over is why. There are plenty of places you can go, a transient, run-of-the-mill worker she picked at random from a pile of names and didn't care to know anything about you beyond your capabilities until you showed up.

You remain steadfast by her side and don't show any signs of dissatisfaction, lost in your own little world some days. Maybe you cope with her by blocking out her presence. That would explain the humming and why you seem so happy to work here.

People always find something wrong. You have found nothing, and it makes her suspicious.

"Why are you here?" she asks one day, speaking out of the blue, out of character for her.

"I work here" is the response you offer, short as she usually is and with a bit of sass of your own that you picked up.

"I know." Slightly annoyed, she rephrased the question. "You could have transferred jobs before now."

"Paperwork's not worth the trouble," you joke, though she doesn't get that or doesn't find it funny, and her expression only sours at you. You throw your hands up in defence. "I kid, I kid! I don't have any reason to."

Sandrone knows what people say about her. She doesn't trust such a superficial reason, especially after your comment. "You're satisfied here?"

You shrug. "The work is easy, the conditions aren't gruelling. It's better than most places."

"I see," she says, falling silent. Her curiosity is mostly sated, save for some remaining questions she hasn't roused the courage to ask you yet.

"Should I be more unhappy?" you question, "You stopped making workplace hazards, and it's not unbearably cold in here. It's not like you're that difficult anymore."

She presses her lips to a lip line, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth. "You speak too carelessly."

You only offer her a smile and an unbothered "I know."

"I should reprimand you," she adds. Her hand absently finds a pleat in her skirt and toys with it, fingers running over the fabric as a background to the conversation. She considers what to say if you're so flippant with her again. Perhaps you think she'll go soft on you if you act friendlier towards her. She lifts her head with another thought. "If you have an ulterior motive, speak."

From the corner of her eye she sees you turn to glance at her for only a second before your focus is back on the tools you stand arranging for her. You always put them away just as she likes them.

"Is it a crime to just like you?" you retaliate with something unexpected, something gentle.

Sandrone opens her mouth to speak, bitter words on the tip of her tongue that die the moment she gains a hint of a conscience against ruining it. Nobody likes her. Sandrone is disagreeable, has a terrible personality, is snappy and disdainful, and is downright rude at times. People don't simply like her.

"People believe I'm terrible." She settles on a half-hearted grumble as she turns away. There's nothing more to be said, really.

"That's ridiculous." You say it too quickly for her liking.

She glares back at you like sharpened daggers looming inches from your back, though she's across the room and would have a hard time getting to you so quickly. "You're lying," she spits.

"A little," you admit, trying to ease the damage, "I don't think you're completely terrible."

She can't keep the frown from her face this time. "But I am still terrible."

"To an extent," you admit, cautious, but not nearly enough. "You have good qualities as well. It's not enough to just say you're terrible." 

Seconds pass in silence, awkward on one side and impatient on the other as you shift your weight between your feet. Sandrone merely stares ahead, clearly having no intention of speaking and every intention of watching you squirm for as long as she can prolong it.

"What? You wanted me to be honest."

"You're reprehensible," she mutters. Her hands ball to fists in her lap and then relax again as she lets out an irritated huff. It's not worth working herself up over something she has heard many times before, a fact she has long accepted.

You sigh, a strangely upsetting sound. She doesn't like it, she knows that much. It's not the kind of sound you make when you're happy, and she'd much rather hear you hum your little songs across the room. "Don't end up a self-fulfilling prophecy." 

"I'm doing no such thing," she says, sending another sharp glare your way to accompany her retort.

You crack a lopsided smile at her. It's a ridiculous face you're making, really, and in response to a perfectly reasonable statement. "Aren't you?" you question.

…Perhaps she might be. Perhaps a part of her does search for abhorrence. There's no greater reason to suspect you secretly despise her than her own belief—paranoia, one might even say—but to expect anything else is setting herself up for stark disappointment.

"Do you mean it?" she says quietly, eyes more focused on the fabric between her fingers to stave off the nervousness she's strangely riddled by.

You're nobody. Your opinion means nothing to her; it never should, never has and never will. You can lament all you like and--

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met."

She pauses, hand stilling in place, skirt pinched between her unmoving fingers. Her head tilts up, and she twists in her chair to meet the back of your head in a one-sided staring contest. At the first sign of you turning to her, Sandrone turns away, determined to hide whatever face she makes to gawk at you.

You are not real, fake, an imposter. She made a doll to curb her loneliness and programmed it to speak. You must be. You must be saying what she wants to hear. It is not new for lowly grunts to fear Harbingers to the point of reverence, though you have never shown signs of false flattery in your time with her.

Yet all of that is a lie; you are not another lifeless creation that operates on a mechanical heart. Perhaps you have simply gone mad in your time with Sandrone, or she has. Madness might suit her a little more than you.

"You jest," she manages to say after a long stretch of silence, browns furrowing to hide her shock at the sentiment, though you can't see her face. "I should cut out your tongue."

[acourtofthought]

I know there’s been hints that SJM is most likely gonna be telling Az/Gwen’s story next. But is it weird that I hope she does Elain first. Lol you know tell all the sisters stories first. But it’s also because I don’t think I handle another book of Elucien being awkward around each other 😭

I think it would make sense for her to close out the Archeron sister's "saga" before moving on to other side characters but....I realize Sarah will write where the wind takes her.

I will just never understand the argument that Elain hasn't been set up enough to have her own book. Sarah is on record years ago as saying she's always wanted to write a book for the sisters followed by confirmation that back in 2015 / 2016 she knew early on where she wanted Elain's story to go which allowed her to plant crumbs for her story as far back as ACOMAF. She then said she KNEW who the first two spin-offs were about but was leaving the third open and considering something set in the past. In the Live Talks LA with Eva Chen in 2021 she spoke about the crumbs that were also in SF for Elain's journey. Just because she then began talking about the crumbs she laid for Az in the bonus chapter and how she wanted to further explore his character it doesn't erase that Elain's crumbs were already in the series well before that, it didn't suddenly mean that it was an absolute certainty that she decided to put aside Elain's story for Az's especially not when she said her initial plans for the spin-offs didn't change, the world just expanded.

Az is connected to the Illyrians and time travel (though we don't have a solid plot for that just yet since there was nothing left to resolve in terms of time travel by the end of HOFAS) but Elain, back in ACOWAR was connected to Koschei and Vassa (problems that have been waiting for a resolution for books now, things we were reminded of in the novella). Then in SF she was connected to the Spring Court which has been a problem for the IC because of Tamlin and it's weakened state. Feyre said "let's help one sister before helping the other", Elain began standing up for herself saying that nobody can tell her what she can and can't do and declared she'd do whatever was needed for Rhys and Feyre. She's connected to Lucien who is connected to Beron, Tamlin, the humans, all things that have plots directly connected to them. I'm not sure how Elain could be set up anymore honestly and I'm not sure why you'd want her to be further set up in a Gwynriel book. It's also not just Elain's book, it's Lucien's and the two of them combined are the most setup pairing of the entire series, even more than Nessian was.

But I agree, there's nowhere for the Elain / Lucien bond to go but resolution at this point. We're not going to see Elain break her silence towards Lucien until we have her POV so another book where we have everyone commenting "there's Elain ignoring Lucien again" would feel ridiculous. I also think it's important for Elain's arc and her HEA with Lucien for her to not default to him simply because he's the last man standing in her vicinity. The plot surrounding her has been her struggle with fate versus choice and to have her end up with Lucien because the rest of the IC got paired off seems a strange direction for her story to take. I also don't think it feels right (I know it's silly to base your theory on a gut feeling but there it is) to have Az throw a tantrum about not having a bond in SF, act like a tool towards Lucien and then end up happily mated in the next book. I think his romance arc could use a bit of cooking time to make it feel a bit more well earned whereas Lucien's character has suffered and suffered and suffered. At some point, it's really too much to put one character through what she has Lucien without him getting his HEA.

[s-ephiroth]

Hey Arkee! Dunno if you got asks yet or if I’m late but wanted to send these in for the boys!

For Angeal:

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

For Sephiroth:

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

For both:

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

i got 0 asks because i'm unlucky!!! so it's never late lol, let's go

11. it's a bit of a snowball rolling down a slope really, because the first couple times i played cc? he didn't really pull me in a strong way (he's there so briefly, so i ended up more attuned to zack's and sephiroth's situations/issues, especially sephiroth's)

then at some point a roleplayer friend started playing gengeal with me privately and god... I LOVE HER ANGEAL? HE'S JUST SO HUGGABLE BUT ALSO SHAKEABLE OK

this eventually led to me noticing him more in canon, falling into a sephgeal rabbit hole, replaying cc yet again for crumbs, spending years without properly attending to said rabbit hole, being brought back to it by a certain amazing piece of fanart, REPLAYING THE GAME AGAIN FOR MORE CRUMBS, DIVING INTO LORE SPECIFICALLY FOR ANGEAL AND—

i find that i now struggle getting past modeoheim when replaying cc :))) i don't want him to go!!!!

why must he die! 😭

12. I WANT HIM TO LIVE!!!!!!!! i want to see what events would change and how if he was alive, ok? but the most likely answer here is a role swap: let him take genesis' or sephiroth's place just to explore what he would do when confronted by the horrors of what canon does to them

13. see previous answer, role swap: THE THOUGHT OF SAFER ANGEAL???? DOMINATES MY BRAIN AT ALL TIMES

16. YES!!!!! seph's story is so tragic and as someone who roleplays as him (privately, of course, because i'm VERY shy) i also tend to project a lot of personal emotion onto him and becoming an emotional mess about it :'))

17. not quite? unless we count "my eyes are messy from crying" as physical pain?

18. both, both is good... but angst comes more easily, like... it's painful but also cathartic to apply it to him

19. YEEEEEES!!! whenever i feel down i tend to go back to both seph and angeal for comfort; they have quite a cozy dynamic potential as either friends or otherwise that feels so healing... my lock screen is them, so i occasionally look at them in a very "do it for them" way :'))

in fact, turning towards them kept me from falling out of love with a different pair of characters back when a certain fandom incident happened (which i'll not elaborate about here), because i could simply fall back on them for comfort to avoid becoming too annoyed about certain people in fandom (again, i'll not elaborate, long story)

so yeah!! sephgeal is my solace duo i think :))

[yuugen-benni]

REQUEST SWEEPING INNN🛩🛩

Helloo!!! — author-san! How have you been? I hope your year has been well because 2023 has come to an end! Oh, and I'd also like to add, happy new year! ⤵️

[✉️.] A LETTER FROM ANNON? — Dear Author-san, I wish you all the best this year, for the stories you write and those that will come after! And I don't think i've said it enough, but I'll tell you time and time again - I really love the content you put out and the little things (all others) you write! I don't think half of my year would be complete without your stories to accompany my stash of heart-wrenching stories I collected all over throughout this year! — and ofcourse, I'd be happy to see your stories this year too. Lets make a memorable year this time! (Oh- but please take your time, stories go through love and care too and I hope you don't feel pressured by this! I enjoy any content you put out! <3) — FROM ANNON. 🖊 happy new year.

[📃.] REQUEST! — Could I request for BSD characters? Where—If they would ever have an s/o, would they call them with pet names or no? If yes, what pet name?

—TYT & Thank you in advance, author-san! 🎆 ◝(๑꒪່౪̮꒪່๑)◜ 🎆

''Romantic, Sweet, Quirky or none ?''

A/N: ANON I LAVA YOU. I loved your message and thank you for all the support you gave me together with my other followers. I only got here to this day because of people like you who send me such beautiful things. Happy new year, I hope the universe blesses you and everyone who reads my posts. XOXO <3

Romantic - Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Katai, Hirotsu, Koyo, Sigma, Odasaku, Tecchou

Classic pet names are their favorites because they are simple but loving and not embarrassing - for those who are always victims of teasing -. Pet names like these are normal for most couples, but I guarantee that their form and intonation when they call you bring a fuzzy feeling inside your chest.

Some on the list are: Dear, Love/Lover, Darling, (my) Beloved, Heart or Sweetheart

The frequency will depend on where you two are, especially if you are their co-worker. In moments of intimacy or simply when the two of you are alone, in a quiet evening, the chance is 100%

Sweet - Yosano, Atsushi, Tanazaki, Gin, Higuchi, Kenji, Teruko

They like pet names that make your heart melt every day. They're creative and cute, especially when that nickname references things they/you love! In other words, they are created just for you.

Some on the list are: Babe/baby, Honey, sweetie

Bunny (By Gin because she loves cuddling with her s/o), Sunshine or Sunflower (By Kenji, do I need to explain?), Butterfly (By Yosano obviously), Bear (By Teruko, she's so tiny)

Frequency? 24/7

Quirky - Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Tachihara, Mark Twain, Nikolai, Fitzerald

Provocative as hell, which is why they choose pet names that express that side of them. These nicknames range from embarrassing to ones that make you feel good - and that's their ambitions.

Some on the list: Hot Stuff, Pumpkin head, Muffin, Goat, Boo, Butt or Bun, Lolipop (We know, you know, Ranpo know), Bug

They call you these names at any time, whether to make you blush or laugh - then in front of your friends/family they turn into your handsome devil. If they want your attention, you can hear them moan all the pet names they have for you, I wish you luck.

None - Ango, Akutagawa, Fyodor, Mushitarou, Bram

It's nothing personal, but… You know. They are quite stubborn in admitting that they like to be all nice to you, which means they don't call you affectionately. But there's always a loophole in the law, right? Then there are times when they accidentally slip out pet names like ''Darling'' and ''Beatiful'' OR they call you in a sarcastic way - But we're already used to living off crumbs -.

either way, they love you. Without a doubt.

[bookscandlesnbts]

Please he's making sure none of his minions will leave him.. and they'll be still up with all their theories and clout when he comes back in 2025 lol. This is not me who said this but his minions themselves.. they said whenever they reconsider about tkk, Tae will appear and leave some crumbs and signs for them to keep believing in tkk. He said he saw army working about the division he joined so he obviously saw cult being sad and mad over jkk's enlistmet too.. so he had to feed his fans. Who cares whether Jimin will be harassed for forcing JK to be in same unit as him? Definitely not Tae.

Jk *may* have given consent to post the ss... but I don't believe tho.. coz he was SO ADAMANT about not showing his head in last 2 lives. It was his place to show not Tae's nor any other member's. It wasn't even a selfie they took with intention of posting but a fucking screenshot of video call he maynot even knew Tae took. But ofcourse some people just lack boundaries or understanding.. they thinks everything is 'joke' and go on and post things without your permission. If feeding cult wasn't his point he would've posted something.. atleast an old selfie with jimin wishing him all the best..but he didn't do that right? Same with Bam too.. he didn't posted with his own dog but bam ? 🤣🤣 he's laughable atp.

But apparently only Jimin is fanservice king who's mia most of the time, when the real fanservice king is hidden in the plainsight and always defended by major chunk of this Fandom no matter what he does. Btw someone tell him feeding tkkrs wont make his songs chart highly nor make album hit. It will only have China fb mass buying and Thailand streaming farm.. not the real popularity where stans from other kpop fandoms also knows your songs lol.

Let me make some things clear about my blog. I do love Tae, but I’ve decided that the Tae that I love is the Tae who is part of BTS aka interacting with them and part of them as a group entity. I don’t like BTS Chapter 2 Solo era Tae. I think I’ve said this on another post, but I think part of this era of Tae’s problem is that he goes completely unchecked. All of his weaknesses are exposed (anon you mentioned album charts not me ����) and while he might be one of the most popular members of BTS on the surface, solo era has shown that he doesn’t have that *it factor* on his own. So, we have seen him do questionable things to appease a very questionable group. And it’s simply a pattern at this point. I can no longer give him the benefit of the doubt. The massive eye roll that I did when I saw the picture of him with Bam could be seen all the way in Seoul. 🙄 However, all of this to say is that I’m not a Tae anti. I don’t hate him. I wish him safety and health in the military, and I think he’s an essential part of BTS the group but we can definitely leave Chapter 2 Era Tae behind. A couple posts ago I lamented how much I hate this “competition” between jkks and tkks and I think we know who really fuels that fire.

[qveenbunni]

So I wrote this while I was reading it, so I tried to make it as coherent as possible… but honestly it’s just me screaming the entire time lol 😆 as promised, here’s my little review:

— Seonghwa has never been the type of guy who chases relationships and has a goal set on when and how to get married. He simply exists and welcomes the opportunities life gives him as they come. — This is literally so me what the heck, do you live inside my brain?

It took me too long to realize that Christian is Ian, I forgot that he has two names. Like who is this other mystery brother you speak of 😅… I’m seeing a common theme of my brain not working today.

The message screenshots was a nice little touch, I haven’t seen that before- they had me twirling my hair and kicking my feet 🤌🏽💗 — Is it dumb of you to re-read the conversation at least eight times before going to bed? —No not at all because I sat there for a good five minutes reading it.🤪

Side bar: I LOVE LOVE LOVE the little crumbs we get of the other member’s stories. You have me so intrigued…What do you mean sweet Maltese Yeo almost got kicked out of college?! Or maybe that makes him a Doberman 🤔 hmmmmm….

— “There's this… Weird intention laced into it, into the prospect of a date that I don't particularly enjoy. I want to get to know people and see where it takes us without pressuring ourselves into anything romantic or sexual.” — Okay so you’re actually in my head, noted- locking my windows now 🤣

— He sounds whiny. You like that. —

🧍🏾‍♀️...🧎🏽‍♀️‍➡️... yep that’s all I’m gonna put here

-jk, BEGGGGG AND THEN BEG SOME MORE 😮‍💨

— “but I want you to call my name if I'm making you feel good,” “Can you do that for me, dear?” — 👁️👄👁️…

Okay time to change my rent free resident to Hwa 😪 Ming I’m so sorry, Hwa’s been loitering around for a while now and this just sent me over the edge. Between Summer Sonic, his ig posts and this fictional Hwa 🫣 Ming you’re not in the master suite but you still have a room- forgive me 😔

Yeahhhhhhh and that’s a follow (if I noticed you were the same person who wrote the other stories I would’ve followed long ago) But now I’m sat for the rest of this universe to play out. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Love your brain 😘🧠! Thanks for creating 🫶🏽

i was made for lovin' you (PSH x reader)

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

In an attempt to grasp at his youth, Seonghwa buys a motorcycle despite not knowing the first thing about them. When it inevitably breaks down, he has no other option that to ride it to a mechanic shop and, after following a sweet hum, he’s faced with the life-changing (and predictable) fact that, maybe, what he needed after all was not a motorcycle. Maybe, just maybe, what he needed was you.  

PAIRING: new bike owner!seonghwa x afab mechanic!reader.

GENRE: strangers to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 20k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both seonghwa's and reader's), wooyoung being a little shit for the umpteenth time + jongho, yeosang AND hongjoong (omg), that feeling you get when your youth is ending, midlife crisis! (or so yunho says), a loooot of work related/motorcycle plot, flirting, seonghwa losing his rizz, reader is adopted so that may count as a trigger warning for some of you, shitty exes, crying a bit but not really, pet and nicknames (ghost, dear), they almost get caught in a thunderstorm, lots of tension, making out, oral ( f & m reciving ), descriptions of the female anatomy, floor AND protected sex ( wrap it up pls ), the ending leads straight up to the next story on this universe so be aware of that.

NOTES: hello everyone! after almost a month in the making, here you have it! THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone, although there's some characters and scenarios you can understand better if you read the last three parts (you can find them in my masterlist). this really didn't need to be so lenghty but it turned out that way for some reason (i'm the mayor of yap town). this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: september 02 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68, @e3ellie, @alsomimi

masterlist.

Seonghwa is proud to be the type of person who can just tell what's going on after assessing a situation for a few seconds. 

His intuition is something he can rely on and he almost never misses the mark when he makes predictions that he doesn't share with anyone else in case it brings anyone down. 

As he watches San kissing his girlfriend's cheek and then stare at her like a lovestruck idiot, his mouth quirks up a bit and he quickly hides it behind the soda can he's been nursing for the past couple of minutes. 

He's happy it finally happened. 

He's also a little butthurt that he didn't get the chance to fully get to know her first. 

They've been together for a few months now, maybe four if he recalls correctly. Back then, he danced with her at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment like he didn't know one of his closest friends had been in love with her since they both were in highschool. 

He didn't tell anyone, but a part of him did it to see if it would prompt a reaction. And, from what he was told by Wooyoung, it did. 

She is his type of person, though. And when he texted her a few days later and she sent in a non-detailed voice note briefly explaining what went down after they all left the party and she stayed behind to help her drunk best friend, he told her he understood and that he kind of already knew. 

Or at least, he expected it. 

He also explained to San that, although his intentions with his girlfriend (before she was his girlfriend) were mostly genuine, he’s obviously not in love with her. 

After all, they only met that one time and now, back in San and Woo’s shared apartment for what feels like an overdue reunion after months of busy schedules and adult life, he can assure them both with a nod and smile that he is, indeed, happy for them. 

He treasures admiration for those who are able to find love in this modern age, anyway. 

Now there's two couples in the group. Seonghwa has never been the type of guy who chases relationships and has a goal set on when and how to get married. He simply exists and welcomes the opportunities life gives him as they come. 

That's how he got his job at Room for More. His professor gave him a recommendation letter after finishing the last presentation of his career and suggested he try his luck at his colleague’s company. 

And now he's actually doing what he studied to do and he's loving it. Working in interior design and fighting minimalism while he's at it? 

Incredible. Life could not be better. 

Kind of.

As rare as those types of opportunities are, he truly believes it is way easier to find a niche profession people are actually comfortable with than it is to find love in modern society. 

Life might give you your dream job out of nowhere, but it can also take away the opportunity of finding a partner you can celebrate your success with. 

He never even told his friends when he got the job. Only Hongjoong, who then passed on the word to the rest of the group and, after they all congratulated him for it, they quickly moved on to their tesis and focused on not letting their last year of university eat them up while they were at it. 

Except for Jongho, he very much had a few months left to ignore the unavoidable adulthood period he was about to suddenly enter his senior year. The rest of them, minus Hongjoong, had the right to grasp as much as they could of the freedom of only being weighed down by exams and not by other obligations like rent and bills. 

Wooyoung and San’s lease is being paid by their parents, so they don't really count. 

And Hongjoong lives with his bandmates in a little apartment above the rehearsal space provided by a lovely grandma who treats them all like they are her sons, so he doesn't really count either. 

Seonghwa feels like, in the span of a year, he took a whole step forward while everyone else is still enjoying their youth. Now, he has presentations and meetings with clients he needs to worry about. 

Love is not his top priority, not that it ever was, but now it barely crosses his mind. 

He just wants to stay cool and young for a few more years before giving in completely into feeling like an adult. 

So, naturally, what's the first idea that popped in his mind a few weeks ago when thinking about the inescapable passage of time? 

That he should definitely be a little more irresponsible with his finances. Why not? He's in the perfect period of his life where he's allowed to make a mistake without the fear of eternal judgment by a superior being. 

The superior being happens to be his mother, of course. Who else would it be? The woman could make a God shake in their shiny boots and silence them with a single scowl. 

She's all the way back in his hometown, though and she's really rooting for him to make it big in the city. 

Surely, she wouldn't mind if he bought a motorcycle to help him commute faster to his appointments, right? 

Well, he's about to find out any day now.

Looking out of the window that looks to the street, Seonghwa can see his new acquisition parked and sparkling under the streetlamp and the smile that it brings to his lips it's big enough for Yunho to bump him with his hip and lean against the window sill as well. 

“Who's making you smile like that?” he asks, looking away from Seonghwa and following his line of sight till it reaches the beautiful Bonneville he just got on a great deal with a guy who wanted to get rid of it. 

The auction post said that it was because it looked too vintage and the owner wanted to upgrade to something more ‘modern looking’. 

A fool, he thought. 

Because to him, this bike checks all his marks: it is modern enough that in case he needed to get any parts for it, it wouldn't make him lose his mind in the process. But also, it has that vintage, nostalgic, old film feel and look to it that is just right up his alley. 

He loves it. 

Huh, maybe he did find true love after all. 

And after breaking open his savings, Seonghwa managed to get a hold of it without financially ruining himself. Only a bit. 

He didn't tell any of his friends about it, maybe that's why Yunho whistles after he checks it out. 

“Now who's riding that baby?” 

“Me,” Seonghwa smiles, turning to his friend who, as the response dawns on him, drops his jaw and lets out an amused chuckle “What? That's my bike!” 

“Are you being serious?” 

“Why would I lie to you?” He returns, softly. 

A bit passes and then Yunho turns to everyone else scattered around the living room. 

“Guys, Seonghwa is having an early mid-life crisis and bought a motorcycle!” 

Yeosang gasps “Ain't no way…” 

“Hwa? A motorcycle?” Wooyoung hollers, louder than everyone else “What's next? Tattoos?!” 

Oh, for the love of God. 

Maybe there's a reason he didn't tell anyone until now. Everyone gathers around the window to look at it like children at a zoo and he takes a step back, sitting on the arm on the couch, a subtle smile on his lips. 

The only person that turns to him is San’s girlfriend, smiling proudly like he just won the lottery or something. 

Damn, she really is his type. 

“Are you happy?” She asks and it tugs at his lonely heart strings like crazy. 

He pushes through, nodding and shrugging a bit, dismissing his feelings for the final time. It's not really her, he reminds himself. It's the thought of having someone in his life that treats him the way she treats San. 

“Sure am,” he murmurs “My bank account? Not so much.” 

She laughs and Jongho turns to him at that “Are you an old man with debts now? Noooo,” he pouts “Who am I going to ask for bail money now?” 

Gyuri, Wooyoung's ex-girlfriend who somehow manages to stay friends with him, scoffs “You've never been to jail, kid.” 

“But he's the first person on my emergency contact list for that!” 

And just like that, they all pull away from the window and back into their seats to discuss the reasons why Jongho would end up behind bars. 

Being annoying seems to be winning. 

Seonghwa is glad to take the attention off of him. This way, he can't be caught staring at the way Mingi’s girlfriend sits on his lap and nuzzles her nose against her boyfriend’s neck. This way, the sigh he lets out when he catches San whispering sweet things into his girl’s ear gets lost amidst pointless banter and giggling. 

He shouldn't feel envious. 

But somehow he ended up wearing a green short-sleeve today, so it checks out. 

“Important client. Wants to renovate their whole space, his apartment and his office.” 

His boss is excited. It makes him smile as he stares at her with his hands behind his back, like he usually does when he receives instructions. 

“He loved your work, I showed him the photo studio you helped with last month and requested you specifically. He said that he feels trapped in a box every time he gets to work and everytime he returns home, so… He wants you to lead the project,” she smiles, tapping her manicured nails against her desk and cocking her head to the side “Congratulations, kid, you got your first big commission coming.” 

“Thank you so much,” he bows, his body bending out of pure gratefulness and instinct “I'll make sure to run everything by you accordingly, boss.” 

“Well, I'm expecting a report in two days.” 

“Two days?” 

“Mhm. He wants to meet with you this afternoon… In four hours, exactly. I already sent you an email with the details,” she gets up from her desk, extending her hand towards him and he rushes to shake it “You're doing the initial assessment today, alone. Everyone else has something going on.” 

Fuck. 

“Of course,” he's worried and anxious, but he makes sure none of it shows as he gives her hand a firmer shake before letting it go “I'll do my initial research in the meantime, then.” 

She nods and dismisses him with her hand. 

He stresses the whole time he looks up the name and company of this new client. It seems like a serious business, not the kind that wants to reject minimalism especially when the nation's professional aesthetic runs on it. 

It’s a modern tech silicon valley run by, what he's able to gather, a very rich family his new client is part of. There's a picture of them, smiling at an event, looking like the nightmare of working class people. 

He tends to keep his opinions on chaebol’s at bay (Yunho is his friend and he’s rich, so he can't really voice what he thinks so freely anyway) but the fact that they contacted his company, an interior design business with barely any recognition amongst their competitors, is both surprising and concerning. 

He clicks an article where his new client is featured. He's the heir of his family's empire, a tech savvy himself and he can tell, from the way they framed his answers, that he is well media-trained. 

Seonghwa has no name for himself. Why would he request him? He's not so sure the ambiance he helped to create in a mere photo studio is what is granting him this opportunity. 

His intuition is telling him, as he clicks for his initial research to print, that there must be an ulterior motive. 

But he's going to embrace the chance of securing his rent money either way. 

He just hopes his hair is presentable enough when he gets there. The helmet he bought is really not helping, the wind that somehow gets into it as he cruises through the streets doesn't help either.

Wanna know what else adds up to his problems today? The engine sounds weird. 

It sounds fucking weird. 

At a red light, Seonghwa lifts up his visor and tries to figure out what the hell is going on as much as he can. 

He's too green for this. Too new to this world. 

Would his mother scold him if she finds out he lied about doing a thorough research about the bike world before investing in one? 

He looks at his watch. He has time to spare, an hour and a half before the meeting takes place. 

Before he can fully make a decision, his body weight is making him turn into a street he doesn't know that well. But he's sure he saw a repair shop on the way to work today. 

Or was it just a body shop? Maybe he imagined it and the sudden panic he feels rising and darkening his cheeks under the visor is convincing him he's right. 

When he sees the floatable mascot waving in the wind, he lets out a sigh of relief. 

Pulling up, he sees a few cars with their hood open and a few new, modern bikes to the side, so he parks a few meters from them and when he turns off the engine and gets down from his -apparently- damaged new acquisition, he feels like he can finally breathe. 

No, scratch that, he takes his helmet off and then he's able to breathe. 

When he scans the place, there's not a soul in sight. 

Until he hears someone humming. It's a song he heard before, he can't quite put it together by the melody but it sounds like something he used to enjoy when he entertained the idea of joining Hongjoong's band all the way back in first semester of college. 

Something with heavy guitars, which kind of fits the place’s vibe. Looking around, he swears to himself he's trying to find the source of the humming.

After all, he doesn't have much time to take in the place.

But he does anyway. 

When he steps deeper into the shop, he feels like he's been teletransported into a decade he never got to experience, into a culture that is not his to experience in the first place. 

It's like a Sons of Anarchy set, something he would see in an indie two thousands movie, maybe. There's a lot of stuff laying around, an organized chaos he guesses he can attribute to the nature of this kind of job. 

But there's also a lot on the walls, aside from the usual tools hanging from it that look worn out there's posters and the Harley Davidson logo plastered at least five times in shirts, hats and jacket applique patches. 

He thinks the walls can be painted a new, muted color instead of the sort-of bright blue and beige they have going on. 

Focus. What the hell. 

Shaking his head, he follows the sound of the voice until he reaches the back of the shop. There's what it looks like an office, maybe a reception? With a door that's wide open and seems to lead to a storage he doesn't need to get in to. 

There, on her knees, he sees the source of the sound: A girl. 

A beautiful, beautiful girl. 

With her hair out of her face and overalls that seem too loose on her frame. 

Is his heart okay? It feels like it stopped beating. 

And then the beating comes back in full blast, goosebumps on his skin reminding him to speak up. Clearing his throat softly, he does. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, shit,” she drops whatever she's working on, stops writing something down on a notebook that looks like it's about to run out of space “You fucking scared me!” 

“I can… see that. I'm sorry.” 

“Did you float all the way down here? Fucking Christ,” she mumbles something under her breath, getting up from her position and leaning into the desk in a way Seonghwa will probably remember forever. He gulps “What can I help you with, Ghost?” 

She's breathtakingly beautiful and he, who's usually smooth with words and random interactions, stammers out his response “H-hey, yes I… I'm Park Seonghwa,” he starts, smiling a bit “I was hoping there was someone here who can help me with my bike?” 

She looks around and he assumes she's looking for someone until he sees the corner of her lip curving up a bit “As I said, what can I help you with?” 

Did he already fuck this whole thing up? 

“Oh! I wasn't suggesting that you couldn't— I mean that's not what I…” her smirks widens, he suddenly remembers he's running out of time so he gets it together “I just bought a motorcycle and I'm sure the engine is not supposed to sound the way it's sounding so I thought I could use someone taking a look?” He gets out as fast as he can and the stranger claps her hands in a way that makes him take a step back. 

She intimidates him. Just a little bit. 

“First time owner?” She asks but he's sure she already knows. 

Chuckling nervously, Seonghwa nods “What gave it away?” 

“Your gear,” she simply states, getting out from behind the desk and into the garage space, moving swiftly through it like she owns the place. Damn, does she own the place? “You're barely wearing any. I get it, it's stuffy,” she turns over her shoulder to smile at him “It'll grow on you.” 

“More like I'll get used to it, I feel like.” 

“Yeah,” she rounds a car, tapping the hood of it and taking a pause as she scans the front of the place “That's what I said.” 

That's definitely not what she said. 

He's not sure if she's being rude or merely sarcastic, but he shouldn't be enjoying it the way he is. What drags him out of it is the way laughs when she sees his bike “This one?”

Concerning. Danger. Why is she laughing?! 

“Y-yeah.” 

“I don't get to see this type of bike often. Damn, she's beautiful.” 

He smiles, taking down his worries a notch “Yeah, I got a great deal for it. The guy said he wanted something like that instead,” he points at the one right next to his “Said he wanted something that looked out of Terminator. I didn't have the heart to tell him that they used a Harley Davidson for the movies.” 

“I'm guessing he meant Robocop?” 

“Maybe.”

“What an idiot,” she sighs, inspecting his bike closely “Not you, Park Seonghwa, the guy who sold you this. Key.” 

Key? Oh, right, the key. He tosses it to her and she catches it with expertise. 

“Well, thanks for clarifying that.” 

She laughs again, taking his helmet that's resting on the seat and putting it down on the floor as she straddles the bike “You're welcome,” she starts it, revs the engine a few times and then grimaces in a way that makes Seonghwa’s heart drop to his ass “Okay, Ghost, please tell me you have time to spare today.” 

“I actually don't,” he takes a few steps, worried frown on his face that prompts another sigh from her “I have a very, very important appointment in…” he checks his watch “In an hour that I really, really need to get to and— Is it that bad?” 

“No! No, not at all, I'm just better with cars than with bikes but, uhm… My brother is coming back in around fifteen minutes?” She offers and with the scowl on his face, she seems to backtrack “Listen, Park Seonghwa, why don't you leave your number with me and we can get this fixed by the end of the day. You can come by to pick it up or we can drop it to you early, tomorrow.” 

“Would you? Oh, my God,” he lets out another nervous laugh “That would be amazing, actually.” 

“Yeah, it's probably just the chain tensioner that needs an adjustment. Nothing's wrong with the engine as far as I can tell but that's why I want the guy who specializes in this type of thing to check it out.” 

“Your brother.” 

“Exactly,” she nods, turning it off and getting off as quickly and if Seonghwa was a little less concerned that he might've waisted his money on an expensive motorcycle, he would've noticed the proximity and the way she looks him over  with a curious glint on her eye “So, Park Seonghwa, what's your number?” 

She takes a step to the side and offers him her phone after unlocking it. He reacts to that. 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

He doesn't notice the big smile she offers him either. He doesn't have time. He enters the digits fast and checks over them two times before saving the contact information and returning the phone. 

Checking his watch once again, he curses under his breath and looks at his baby with desperation, begging, praying that he doesn't have to spend a fortune on it. 

“I really have to go.” 

“I can see that,” she returns his words from before, smiling and leaning to rest her weight on the hood of the car she tapped earlier “Good luck with your, uh…” she looks him over one more than and this time he notices it, blushing like a teenager for some reason because of it “Business meeting?” 

The crossbody bag he's wearing probably gave him away, huh? 

“Yeah, yes. Thank you so much for all your help… Ian?” He reads the nametag on her overall and immediately thinks it is an unconventional name for a girl, but doesn't add anything about it “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“I get it, you're grateful, now leave.” He catches on that she's pretending like his presence bothers her so he can hurry, which he's actually grateful for. 

It occurs to him that he could stare at her forever like an idiot if she didn't. 

“Okay, bye. Please tell me if I have to, uh, rob a bank or something to cover the cost.” 

She laughs again and it sounds pretty this time. 

What the fuck. 

“Sure,” she nods and he takes a few steps backwards until he's about to turn and then he hears her voice again, so he doesn't but he keeps walking “It's Y/N, by the way.” 

“Huh?” 

“My name is Y/N, Ian is my brother.” 

His heart beats loudly and he can't help but smile as wide as he possibly can “Ah, that makes more sense.”

“Goodbye, Park Seonghwa!” 

He finally turns and then screams back “Goodbye, Y/N!” as he's hurrying to raise his hand and call on a taxi who just passed the entrance like divine intervention, placed perfectly just for him. 

He misses the sudden blush on your cheeks because he's already in the cab by the time you reach the garage’s door to glance at the beautiful man one last time.

Seonghwa is right on time. With a few minutes to spare, actually. 

The building looks even more modernized than in pictures. He can even see some workers remodeling an office he passes on the way to the… third? Main desk he has to go to. 

It's a very big company and he can see the silicon valley aspect of it all once he notices the few different uniforms everyone is wearing. It seems like the building is one big, creative space and he likes it, but it does feel a little cold in a sense. 

“I'm looking for Mr. Kim? I have an appointment in… five minutes with him, I was sent from—”

“Room for More. Park Seonghwa is here.” The lady at the reception doesn't spare him a glance as she talks through her headset and he has to blink a few times, bowing briefly when she points towards the elevator to his right “Floor sixteen, the only big office on the floor.” 

“Thank you—” 

“Next!” 

Turning back, he sees there's some people lined up behind him and he quickly moves out of the way and towards the elevator that drops him, two minutes later, into the sixteenth floor. 

As he walks towards the big doors at the end of the hall, he feels so out of place his armpits start sweating even though it is a cold day and the heating is barely on. 

There's a few cubicles, glass separating them from the hall and, in consequence, forcing him to glance a few times out of curiosity. The uniforms and creativity that he saw downstairs is lost and all he can see is the nightmare he had once, when he thought he would end up working in a similar space: men in suits and women in pencil skirts typing away and printing reports he is never going to understand. 

Maybe that's why he's a bit surprised when he gets to Mr. Kim’s office and he's waiting by the door with a kind of ironed three piece suit and a few hairs out of place, toothy grin and open arms. 

“Mr. Park Seonghwa, thank you so much for taking the job!” 

He moves in to give him a brief hug he doesn't really get to reciprocate before he's moving away and into his office. 

“It's, um, a pleasure,” he stammers out, following him “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mr. Kim— Wow.” 

“I know, I know,” his client sighs as he takes a box and throws it to the side of his desk. The space is a mess and both of them grimace at the sound of something breaking inside the cardboard “This is why I recruited you. I tried to do something myself and ended up with… Whatever this is.” 

Looking around, Seonghwa is able to see what he means. The walls are mismatched and there's an unfinished design on the one to his left. Someone started painting a tree and gave up after sketching out a few branches. 

“And please call me Soohyun. Everyone here already calls me Mr. Kim and it makes me feel like my father,” he adds, sitting down on his desk chair and pointing to the one in front of it “That's my sister’s work. She tried to help me but broke one of her nails trying to get the cap off a painting tube so… She left me with this mess.” 

Seonghwa smiles, sitting down in front of him and getting his sketchbook out of his bag. Seemingly excited, his client rests his arms on the desk and grins at him, expectantly. 

He seems a little childish, not like the guy he studied earlier today. He looks younger than what he actually is like this, in a space that mimics what Seonghwa picks up like impatience and boredom, maybe the desire of breaking free of a corporate jail. 

Now, he understands why he contacted Room for More. 

“So, Soohyun… What do you want me to do for this space?” 

He spends the rest of the day in the middle of the mess, getting to know Soohyun’s vision and learning about the company as he helps to pile up the boxes laying around and drawing different ideas down. When he tries to talk about a possible budget, the man silences him and tells him not to worry about it. 

The pretty girl he met earlier crosses his mind one time, when Soohyun asks him if he can stay later than anticipated to give him an excuse to get out of what he says it's about to be a very boring and pointless meeting. 

Her image, your image makes him smile and he wonders, for a second, what the hell are you doing with his bike. 

And if he gets to see you again. 

Your brother comes back like a whole two hours later, so you're grateful you didn't push your new client to waste fifteen minutes of his, apparently, very busy day. 

“He said he got a great deal for it?” you nod “This one is not even that old, I'm sure they still make them!” 

You shrug and your brother sighs.

“Maybe he got scammed.” 

“I didn't ask but I think it started making that noise today because he seemed… alarmed,” you tell him and Christian pushes his hair back before taking the key out of your open palm “He didn't stay because he had a business appointment or something. He looked very laid-back, though, not rich at all, so don't you dare overcharge him for this.” 

“Oh, so you liked him.” 

Rolling your eyes, you turn to open the hood of the car you're supposed to be working on instead of giving away information he should've listened to if he didn't tend to walk out mid-shift “Yeah, we're actually getting married next week.” 

“Well, that means I can dispute getting the whole garage once dad goes away.” 

You let out a groan but you smile a little as you try and remember where you left off last night. 

“The only way he can go away is if he's dead, Christian,” you remind him “And he's going to outlive both of us.” 

“Of course he is.” 

You're not sure if your dad has a will at all. You're not his real children after all, so If he does you're not sure you're included either. 

It's not hard to tell you're adopted, but you've known Christian since before it was decided you two would share a family and even a last name. 

You grew up together, the adoption home treated both of you decently enough so you two never struggled as much but the children your age were a different story entirely. They used to tug at your hair and push you to the ground during group activities and the only one who was brave enough to make them stop was Christian.  

So, when your dad showed up at the adoption home and picked him out of the hundred children, he told him he didn't want to go anywhere without you. 

Sure enough, your dad took one look at your frightened little face, hiding behind Christian like a coward, and filled out the paperwork twenty minutes later. 

You remember gaping at the director, waiting for him to do something about this six feet tattooed guy in his late thirties wanting to take you both away from the only home you ever knew, but you're grateful the system didn't give two craps about children back in the day. 

Not that it gives a crap about them now, but at least they're a little more careful with just handing out kids like that. 

Because it could've gone terribly wrong. You were sure, at eight years old, your hand grasping the seatbelt on the back seat of your new dad’s car, that it was about to go terribly wrong. 

But he turned out to be nothing but a kind, hardworking (with an amazing credit score, no criminal record and steady income), widowed man who was looking to fulfill his late wife’s dreams of having a family and someone to leave their business to. 

After all, she was the one who built the shop from the ground up. You desperately needed to know more of her and your dad made sure to let you know how amazing she was in every aspect. 

She became someone you looked up to, even if you never really knew her, maybe that's why you ended up working at the shop as well. 

And yet, you still don't think it belongs to you. Ian is the one your dad wanted to begin with, you're just an added bonus. 

You're not sure you want it, either. 

But there's not much you know outside of it. Your time in school was great, no one bullied you anymore and the tough skin you developed out of nowhere cushioned the typical jokes that kids and teenagers are apparently programmed to make. 

You never made fun of anyone with ill intentions, so you're not sure how true that statement is. 

Either way, you kind of know where they were coming from. You weren't particularly exceptional at any subject but you never got in trouble for anything either, so you just kind of floated in everyone's orbit until you graduated, never belonging to any specific group of people or participating on any extracurriculars to help you maintain your barely there friendships after graduation. 

This shop is truly all you got. And the family that comes with it, of course.

Your dad coughing in the back and the sound reaching your ears even when the sound of Park Seonghwa's damaged motorcycle is right next to you, reminds you that the spending every second of your teenage years and early adult life learning all you could about how to fix a car was worth it. 

“Fucking chain tensioners.”

Smiling, you turn your head to your brother and he's already working on it “So it was the chain tensioner?” 

“Yeah,” he wipes the sweat off his forehead “it's always the fucking chain tensioner with these things.” 

You don't tell him you already knew that. 

“So you could get it fixed today?” 

“Yeah, yeah. He said he's coming back tonight?” 

“Oh, I kind of suggested dropping it off tomorrow so I'm not sure…”

“Y/N!” he scolds immediately and all you can give him in return is an innocent smile “I'm not dropping off shit tomorrow.” 

Turning back to the car, your smile grows into a cheeky one. 

“I never said you would do it.” 

He scoffs “If this is your way of flirting with people, I can see why you never got far with anyone befo— What the fuck?” 

Jaw slack, holding the greasy towel you sent flying into his direction a second ago, he throws it back and it lands by your feet. 

“Did I lie?” 

“Stop being an ass or the next thing I'm throwing your way are my bedazzled pliers.” 

Your dad’s voice behind you puts a stop into the petty and pointless bickering “Well, don't, I worked hard on those,” you smile at him and Ian all but sulks before returning to the task at hand “I expect you both to be done on whatever you're working tomorrow, by eight. We have dinner with the Lee’s.” 

Ah, dinner with your dad’s closest friends. Usual Tuesday shenanigans, of course, but it doesn't stop the nervous bubbling inside of you. 

You pray Deokhee can't make it (he rarely shows up) but you mutter out an okay in response even if you don't feel like going anyway. 

Nodding, he quickly looks over on what you're both doing before disappearing into the back of the shop again. You look down at your toolbox and find the bedazzled pliers your dad gave you as a part of your fourteen birthday gift with a tiny, grateful smile. 

The eternal loop of working in the same usual five, fixable problems on the cars that people drop off at the shop sets in afterwards. And, for the rest of the afternoon, you keep stealing glances at the Bonneville and wondering what type of man its owner is. 

You've always been drawn to pretty faces, even if it costed you your sanity only a few years back. Not that Christian or your dad or anyone else knew about it. 

The little secrets you keep give you some sense of identity, it sets you apart from the oil changes and calluses on your hands and they remind you of the brief aspirations you once had outside of all of this. 

When you dreamed of belonging to someone else and not just this family business, someone who you thought used to get you before he shattered your heart into a million pieces.

Deokhee thought cheating would not affect you.

Why? Oh, maybe because your edges were worn and rough and you've been through worse stuff before. 

What's worse that getting abandoned and picked out as an afterthought later in life?

Being abandoned and treated like an afterthought by the guy you wasted your teen years obsessing over, probably. 

Nothing breaks like a heart or whatever the song says. 

And, to his advantage, he knew you'd keep calm and collected and accepting of his ways because he never promised you the life you imagined for the both of you, even after giving yourself to him multiple times. 

Even after he told you how amazing you were. 

Even after he whispered how lucky he was to have you, hushed and hurried at the backdoor of his house that last time before he broke it off. 

Before he told you he found someone else. 

So you know wondering is a bad idea. You should not wonder about a client, at that. How unprofessional of you, how immature. 

But there was a spark this afternoon you never felt with anyone else. He was brave enough to joke around, even when you did try your best to intimidate him and lost tragically at one glimpse of his pretty smile. 

What's so wrong in indulging in a fantasy no one will ever know about? Heavens know you need one to keep you from smashing the wrench on the windshield of this old, ungrateful, misbehaving Chevrolet that's proving to be more difficult than any other car you've ever worked on before. 

It's only at ten after seven that you're allowed to think about Park Seonghwa without the guilt brought on by delusion. 

“There, fixed,” your brother says and, after starting the bike again, the noise is gone “Call your future husband and tell him to pick it up, I want to meet him.” 

Huffing, you reach for your phone and look at the recently added contact before shaking your head. 

Indulging in a fantasy it's fine, as long as you keep it to yourself. 

You get a chance to prove yourself wrong if you allow yourself to see him again. 

“Not a chance in hell.”

Couple of minutes pass and you fidget the whole time. You're hoping for a yes, so it can all die down tonight. Seonghwa’s lack of transportation and your fantasy included.

He doesn't respond the way you need him to. 

You hate that it makes you smile a bit. 

You glance at your brother and scrunch your nose in disapproval. Would it be nice to not go wherever he is and have time to actually get ready for dinner tomorrow? Yes. 

Do you want Christian to meet Seonghwa? No. That meeting would solidify everything else as a reality, it would pull you out of your little fantasy and you don't want that. 

You want to keep it (Seonghwa) to yourself for a while longer. 

You shouldn't be flirting, you really shouldn't. 

His flirting back puts you in a dangerous zone, a territory you desperately want to explore but can't. Shouldn't. 

Is it dumb of you to re-read the conversation at least eight times before going to bed? 

Probably. 

But you do anyway. 

When Seonghwa is finally walked downstairs by his new client, he's promised a meal by Hongjoong, only if he buys some beer on the way to his apartment. 

His roommates are apparently out and he didn't feel like going, although he didn't explain why. And when he gets there, Yeosang is also splayed out on the couch and with his laptop on his belly. 

“Hwa’s here!” 

“Oh, man, finally,” Hongjoong walks out of his room with wet hair and a towel around his neck “The takeout is getting cold. Come on!” 

He seems… Off. 

Seonghwa eyes Yeosang for an answer but the youngest just shrugs and sits straight on the couch as he closes his laptop. 

“Is everything alrig—” 

“I'll explain it to you when the time is right. Something's up with the band but it's nothing we can't fix.” 

“Okay…” Seonghwa sits down on the tiny table that somehow fits the three of them, the beers and the takeout with a tiny smile, knowing not to intervene until he's told to. 

Eating with his friends is like second nature to him. Everytime it happens, it's like a family dinner and everyone knows what to do and what to serve to everyone so, soon enough, they all have their chopsticks helping them get food into their mouths while they talk about their day. 

Seonghwa is nodding along, not sharing a lot because, well, work is work and he just tells them how excited he is for the new project and what he's planning on doing, he even shows them the mockups and drawings he spent the whole afternoon making, gaining supportive praise for it a second later. 

Yeosang looks up from his meal to him “So it's like a lot of little companies inside one company?” 

“Sort of,” Seonghwa smiles “I don't really get it, either, but that's okay. It doesn't seem like I have to get the concept of the company to plan this whole thing out, only what my client wants and that's… Very different from the company image.” 

He plans on saying something else but all train of thought gets interrupted when his phone dings right besides him. 

And he almost spills his beer on his pretty mockups trying to get to it fast enough. 

Only to end up disappointed, because it's not you but a discount notification from the food app he normally uses when he has the money to order in.  

It had to show up in his face, because what he hears next has the color draining from it “Oh?” 

Oh, God. 

It's like Wooyoung's spirit possessing Hongjoong, he sees it happen in real time and the wicked smile his friend sends in his direction is enough to know where it's all going. 

Yeosang sighs and eyes him with a tiny smile that says I'm on your side, but not really. 

“Hwa… The motorcycle, the looking at your phone waiting for something or someone… Are you seeing anyone?” 

“He obviously is!” 

“Yeosang! Stop feeding his delusions!” 

“So?” Hongjoong places his beer down, cocking his head to the side inquisitively and eyeing him up and down, like he can figure something out that way “Are you?” 

“No! I just… I met this girl today and—” 

“At the company?” 

“No! No, uh… My bike broke down and—” 

“Already?!” 

“Let him talk, hyung!” 

Letting out a sigh, Hongjoong sets hips lips into an straight line that makes Seonghwa huff out a chuckle of disbelief “Thanks, Yeo. Anyway, my bike had a weird sound this morning and I took it to a shop, so the girl who's… In charge?” he frowns a little, because he's still not sure “Of the shop sent me a text a while ago saying that it's fixed, I was just checking if she sent anything else.” 

“And you like her.”

It's more than that, really. He can't even explain it, the smile tugging at his lips a dead giveaway of the whirlwind going inside his head at the thought of you. 

“Ye— No! No, I don't even know her.” 

He shouldn't feel so flustered, really, but the things he felt while looking at you earlier were weird and confusing and he needs to think straight before he lets it consume him. 

It felt a little too freeing for his liking. 

Free from what? He's not really able to pinpoint it. But it looks like he's going to have to. 

The way his friends are staring at him like they know something he doesn't it's annoying, but telling. 

“Okay, maybe I do like her a little.” 

Yeosang hums “Like her, like her or just… You know.” 

“I'm not sure…” 

“Well, figure it out!” Hongjoong is excited, almost jumping in his chair at the prospect of Seonghwa getting with someone “You have her number, ask her to… Meet you somewhere or whatever people do when they like someone.” 

“Ask her on a date, hyung. That's what this idiot is trying to say.” 

“Hey!” 

Seonghwa closes his eyes because he can't believe his friends are entertaining the idea, feeding the growing feeling inside his chest “I just met her today, though.” 

“And?” Hongjoong bites a piece of meat and shrugs, dismissively “Timing is never off when you like someone. Do something about it because I swear if I have to hear anyone else complaining about not getting with the girl they like because of timing I'll—” 

“Wait, who complained?” 

The table falls quiet as Seonghwa looks between his friends to find an answer but Yeosang just shakes his head and he gets it.

Not the time to talk about it. 

Hongjoong points at him with his chopsticks, threatenly “Do. Something. About. It. Anyway!” He gets up from his seat, points at Yeosang this time “Guess who almost got kicked out of college for messing around with the wrong crowd today?” 

“That's not what happened!” 

And Seonghwa swears he's focusing on the story Hongjoong is so eager to tell, on Yeosang’s ears turning pink at the mention of a girl he's never heard before, too. 

But all he can think about is you. 

The next day, after briefly stopping by his office, Seonghwa is back with a few coworkers who help with measurements and put their input in the assessment. He spends all day with it, too and, once again, serves as an excuse for Soohyun to get out of some meetings he's not interested in attending. 

As the day passes, he wonders how Soohyun maintains the important position he's in. Nepotism can't do everything for you, right? 

Right? 

But his new client seems down to earth enough to be aware of his advantages in an industry that's quick and cruel and doesn't hold too much space for laziness. 

So he lets it go because, well, he tends to judge but he can't really do much for people who actually deserve to be in charge. 

It's close to seven and Soohyun bidded him goodbye only a few minutes ago, saying sorry he can't walk him out because, at this time, he actually has an international call to make that can't be excused like the rest of his afternoon schedule. 

Seonghwa doesn't make it out of the office before getting stopped by a manicured hand to his chest. 

After the texts last night and Hongjoong's threats, he was practically ready to sprint downstairs to meet you (or whoever you sent) and get his bike back, maybe apologize for panicking and sending a whole ass sticker as a response instead of keeping the conversation going. 

And to see you again. God, he wants to break his Bonneville one more time just to get to see your pretty face again. 

He already idealized you in his head, which is bad and very amateur on his side, but no one needs to know that. 

But now he might have to keep all of that waiting for a few more minutes because there's someone staring at him like just committed a crime. A crime he's unaware of. 

“Who are you?” 

Her scowl tells him she's trying to get a read on him and he thinks he's transparent enough for it to be easy. If he really thinks about it, though, it looks like she wants to scare him a little bit. 

It doesn't work. 

“Um, Park Seonghwa,” he says and then points over his shoulder, to Soohyun’s office “I’m working on renovating Mr. Kim’s office?” 

“Oh, for fucks sake. Why can't no one in this family keep normal people around?” She peeks through his shoulder, the high heels she's wearing helping her with the task. Groaning, she turns around and starts heading for the elevator, mumbling something under her breath. 

The only thing he can make out of it it's something about supermodels and a it's not fair. 

She turns around briefly to look at him again and scoffs, clearly annoyed. 

“I feel like I know your face from somewhere else.” 

Seonghwa feels a little lost, but steps into the elevator when she does. Now he's afraid, maybe she's a crazy person but then it clicks. 

Clearly, he knows her from somewhere else too. 

“I'm sure the only place I've seen you before is on the news, Miss Kim,” he replies with a sheepish smile, shrugging a bit and hitting the main floor button on the panel “That's a nice tree, by the way.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“The one on Mr. Kim’s office?” he offers, turning to her “He told me his sister painted it and as far as I know, he only has one sister.” 

That brings a smile to her face and Seonghwa counts it as a small victory, for some reason. 

“Ah, so you did your research,” she nods “Please scrape it off the wall if needed. It made me bleed.” 

“He omitted that part.” 

“Of course he did, it was his fault. Anyway,” she shakes her head, stepping out of the elevator and walking ahead without waiting for him. She looks like the type of person who knows everyone else will follow and he does, but only out of curiosity “my brother has your number, yes, Mr. Park?” 

“I'm assuming he does or, at least, my company's numb—” 

“I'm not interested in your company, I'm interested in you.” 

She's also very forward. How could he not guess that from the way she carries herself around? 

“I don't usually do freelance work, Miss Kim.” 

As they both reach the main entrance, she turns around gracefully and with a, for what he can tell, very rehearsed smile tugging at her lips. 

“I'm not interested in your work either, Mr. Park.” 

That, he did guess, but it's disappointing either way. 

“Then what good am I to you?” 

Her grin widens “You'll see.” 

The sound of his Bonneville pulling up it's what gets him to turn away from the mischievous glint in the chaebol's eyes. 

And when he sees you take off a helmet that's not his and wave your hand at him, she blends into the background completely. 

You look good, hair down and probably freshly showered because there's a few droplets falling down from the ends of it to your shirt and leather jacket. Your hands are gloved up and all, like you've been riding bikes your whole life. 

He wonders if that's the case. God, he wants to get to know you so bad. 

“Oh God, not another one, I— Is she your girlfriend, Mr. Park?” 

His head snaps back, eyes wide and cheeks turning pink “N-no, I just met her yesterday, she… That's my bike, I had to get it fixed.” 

Pulling her bottom lip in with her teeth for a second, she nods and then takes two long strides into the direction of a car he didn't see until now “Perfect, then. She looks pretty cool,” she waves at you and he doesn't get to see if you wave back, too focused on getting the color out of his cheeks “Tell her I said that. Goodbye for now, Mr. Park.” 

Seonghwa wants to ask a million questions. What does she want? What does she mean goodbye for now? But he doesn't get to. She gets into the car and drives off and that leaves space for you to drive his bike again and pull up right in front of him this time. 

“Hope I didn't interrupt anything there, Ghost.”

A nervous chuckle abandons him and he manages to shake his head “No, no, she's… my client’s sister?” He offers and you smile, turning off the bike and getting off a second later “She said you're, um, cool.”

“And why would she say that?” 

“Because you look cool? I don't really know, don't question me,” he's sure the efforts he put on making the blush disappear were pointless, cheeks burning when you laugh at him “Thank you, Y/N.” 

“Don't thank me, Seonghwa, I didn't tell you how much it'll cost you yet.” 

He gulps. 

You take mercy on him and the way his eyes glisten with worry, laughing again “It's not too bad. It was the chain tensioner and my brother worked on it pretty fast, don't worry.” 

Relaxing, he takes his helmet and key off your offering hands with a tiny smile, touch lingering on your skin for a second too long “Did you enjoy seeing me suffer just now?” 

“A little bit,” you shrug and mutter your apologies although he can tell you're not sorry at all “I'll text you the invoice with the account you can send the money to?” 

No. 

He wants to say no and make you go with him to an ATM so he can pay in cash just to keep you around for a while longer, he doesn't want this interaction to be over. 

And he's usually very good at communicating things of this nature but something about you makes him giddy and nervous and his charisma is not able to keep up. 

It dawns on him that it's very weird to want to keep a stranger, someone he only met a day ago, in his life for as long as possible. 

Do you feel the same way? He wants you to feel the same way.

The unexpected desire sits on his chest heavily, making him take in a breath more shakily than he intended to. 

“Sure,” the words taste bitter on his tongue, his tone gives away that he doesn't really mean it and then said desire takes over, making him stammer the next words out “Do you want me to take you somewhere?” 

Surprised, you blink a few times and then look down at your own helmet for a second. He feels like he screwed up by asking you that. 

Of course, you don't feel the same way. Of course, you must have someone waiting for you already. 

Of course, of course, of fucking course. 

But just before he can backpedal on his offer, you're looking up, your mind made up and the same teasing smile you've been wearing ever since he saw you yesterday “It won't save you from the debt I'm about to put you through with that invoice but sure.” 

Seonghwa lets out a huff and chuckle all in the same breath, straddling his bike a second later “Ha, ha. Count it as a tip, Y/N.”

“Oh, I'm so telling my brother that,” you beam when he returns the joke and he moves a little, making space for you at the back “Somehow, I don't feel safe with you riding this bike, Ghost.” 

He ignites it and the whole thing shakes a bit before you can even put on the helmet, so he can't really refute that. 

“Do you want to ride it?” 

It's a second too late when he realizes the double meaning behind his own words, unintended, but there they are floating on the air around you both, electric and maybe one sided. 

But you don't back down, taking a step into his space and crowding him, almost towering over him even if he's on the bike and even if that makes him taller than you. It feels that way, so he welcomes the sensation and the pang of his heart against his chest when you lean in just a little. 

“Do you want me to ride it?” 

Breath caught in his throat, Seonghwa takes in your smirk as a sign that, maybe, it's not one sided at all. 

“The bike,” you clarify a second later, like it's necessary “It would be easier to get us to where I need to go, anyways.” 

Planting his feet on the ground, he keeps the Bonneville stable enough to slide back to the space he created for you a minute ago, and if you can feel his heart beating with an unfamiliar, yet exciting song when you take a seat, put your helmet on and press your back against his chest, you sure cover it up when you turn to look at him. 

“Does your fancy job provide you health insurance?” 

He lets out an amused huff “Yours doesn't?” 

“I never asked,” you shrug, taking the handles and looking forward again, leaning in slightly so now he's not that close to you but he feels you everywhere still “Just making sure in case I break you.” 

When you start driving him, handling the Bonneville in a way he never would even with the years of experience ahead of him, he wants to tell you that he wouldn't mind that. 

In fact, he finds himself wanting it. 

As he holds tight to your waist, he finds himself on the verge of telling you to break him apart piece by piece so he can do the same with you. Explore you, not physically, but in the way it truly matters. 

He wants to know your soul, he wants to understand the reason he feels attached to you after a brief meeting and little more. 

You lean back to rest your back a little at a stop sign and he suddenly doesn't care if the way he squishes your waist for a few seconds gives his intentions away. He has your number, he's going to make a move eventually. 

What he does care about is the way you don't tense up and just lean into his body a little more before resuming the task of getting both of you wherever you're going

This? The way he feels so free as you move through the highway, make your way in between the cars at stop signs and the wind hitting his arms? This is the grasp at his youth he's been waiting for. Even if it's just for the night. 

Even if it's over too soon for his liking. 

You stop in front of a house that looks empty. He wonders if it's yours for a second, but then again he's going to find out any minute soon. 

“That wasn't too bad, was it?” 

Getting down from his Bonneville, you take your helmet off and offer him your hand. He slides up his helmet so you can see his face, about to reply, but you beat him to it “Thank you so much for the ride that I technically gave myself, Park Seonghwa, it was a pleasure to meet you.” 

Why are you saying goodbye like you're not planning on seeing him ever again? 

Suddenly, he's planning on ways to mess up his bike again just to get an excuse to see you again. 

No. 

He has to be braver than that. 

Taking your hand, he pulls you in a little bit and you let out a surprised noise that looks like it embarrasses you. 

Your cheeks turn red under the streetlight and he thinks you look beautiful like that. 

“Y/N,” he starts in a whisper, gathering his courage up “Would you like to—” 

“Y/N.” A voice interrupts him and your eyes widen in panic while you look at him, slowly turning your head to the person as he does the same. 

Not before he notices how the pretty blush and all colors drain from your face. 

A guy, with blonde shaggy hair and tattoos covering his neck and hands is standing on the sidewalk with a grocery store bag and a weird look on his face. Beside him, a girl who’s smile fades away when she seems to recognize you scoffs. 

The guy smiles and Seonghwa wonders why you don't say anything back, your grasp on his hand tightening before letting go. 

“There you are, your dad said—” 

“Ghost?” 

Seonghwa doesn't like the way your voice shakes when you say the nickname he's grown used to in such a short amount of time. 

“Yes?” 

You don't bother putting the helmet back on, simply dropping it to the ground and turning back at him “I trust you to ride this bike now, yeah?” 

He doesn't have to be told twice. Making space for you again, you hop on and hug his waste. He slides his helmet back on. 

The guy takes a few steps but Seonghwa stops him with the sound of him revving his Bonneville “Come on, Y/N…” Is what he says when he starts to drive off, accelerating just a little bit before the houses start fading and the busy highway welcomes you both. 

Deokhee has some nerve. 

The fact that he does boils your bloodstream and you wish you could say that the warm sensation spreading through your body is caused by the guy who you're currently holding to. 

Seonghwa has checked in with you once and, after confirming you were okay to keep going, he has held your gloved hands at every red light and stop sign. 

You have no idea where you're going, but you're sure you can't go home and deal with this alone for now. He can't take you home, either (he doesn't know the address) but even if he could, you wouldn't let him. 

The nameless girl that was with Deokhee is the same girl he cheated with. A girl who, by judging her expression, probably knew about you. 

Mind going as fast as the Boneville, you ask yourself how many times she made fun of you for grasping a fantasy, a make-believe story with her now boyfriend. 

What did you lack that she obviously has? What prompted him to hurt you this badly? 

Is he stupid enough to not realize that the sight of them together would tear you apart all over again? 

The scene replays in your head again, after all these years of trying to get over it: Him, holding your hand and telling you how amazing you were to him but that, in all honesty, he didn't see himself going out with someone like you. 

You were too much, too proud, too loud. 

Which doesn't make any fucking sense because although you never held back a jab or a sarcastic comment if needed, you knew the time and place to speak your mind. 

It also didn't make any fucking sense because he knew you would keep his little secret from your father and your brother and, in consequence, keep the relationship you both had and the cowardly way it ended from his family as well. 

You were too much, composed of many flaws and adorned with rough and burnt edges, but you would never in a million years tarnish the happiness of the people who love you because of a rookie mistake. 

Falling in love with Deokhee was a rookie, horrible mistake. 

Falling in love in general? You doubt it. 

Because the way Seonghwa takes his time to slow down the bike on a lookout you were too distracted to notice you were climbing up to, pulls it to a full stop and then immediately reaches for your hands again, makes you believe there's good people out there after all. 

He took you away without asking any questions and you're suddenly welcomed with the same grateful feeling you have towards your family. 

Had you stayed there, you're not so sure you would've kept your words to yourself anymore. Your pain, your anger. 

Getting down from the bike, Seonghwa takes his helmet off and drops it in front of you, on the seat, before leaning in a searching for your glossy eyes. 

You can see him hesitate through the fog your tears form and you don't let them drop just yet. You're angry, but there's no way you would let Deokhee make you cry again in this lifetime. 

You should get down from the bike, but it doesn't move under your weight even if you readjust your position on the seat and you fear that, if you do, you would only plop down into the ground and let it swallow you whole. 

You should say something, too. Thank him, probably, but the tall man lets out a breath before opening his arms and pointing at the view. Gladly, you take the opportunity to take in your surroundings and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Didn't know where else to take you, so I brought you to my breaking point.” 

“Hm?” frowning a bit, you peel your eyes from the city lights to him “Your breaking point?”

“Yeah, that's what I call it,” he smiles and you do too, halfheartedly “Here's where I come to break down and let everything out. There's a playground back there too,” he points behind him and you scoff, amused “If you want to climb up somewhere and scream. The neighbors don't mind it.” 

“I take that as a I've done it before.” 

“Once or twice,” he shrugs “It's good for the soul.” 

“God,” you cover your face with your hands “I'm so embarrassed you had to see me like that.” 

“Like what? You didn't do anything.” 

“Running away and acting all weak in front of…” you fake gag, but it's kind of real “Some guy.” 

A bit of silence passes in between you and your savior. 

And then Seonghwa laughs so hard you're forced to uncover your face and stare at him in disbelief “I'm serious! That's like… top one most embarrassing thing I've ever done.” 

His laugh comes to a stop and he doesn't step closer even if you want him to, just puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and looks at you for what it feels like forever. 

You don't mind it one bit. 

“I've known you for a day, Y/N, but even I can tell that's not the most embarrassing thing you've done.” 

Sulking, you turn to the beautiful view one more time and pout like a child. You want to tell him he's right, but your pride doesn't really allow it just yet. 

It's quiet for a minute or two. You move around, throw your leg over the Boneville and sit on top of it as you stare at the city. You feel Seonghwa move around, pace behind you until he finally reaches around takes a few steps before stopping on the railing separating the street from the hill. 

He's looking in your direction instead of the view. You realize he's giving you space to sulk, to take in everything without pestering you with questions about why the hell you both just bolted instead of facing the situation. 

Your gratitude towards him rises a bit more. 

So your word vomit is justified, you think, because you don't want to leave him in the dark any longer. 

The fantasy you indulged yourself in earlier might just grow into a reality you have to embrace, a reality you want to embrace. 

“He's my ex-something and the girl he was with is the one he chose over me. I was supposed to have dinner with them— Well, no, not really,” you sigh, looking at Seonghwa who, in the deem light, just nods and waits for you to continue “He's my dad’s best friend's son and we have dinner with them every Tuesday. Their family, I mean. Deokhee… He never shows up,” you shrug “And when he does, he's alone and it's towards the end of it all so I never get to see him that long. But this?” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “I never thought he would do this to me.”

Finally getting off the bike, you walk slowly towards the railing as well and feel Seonghwa's eyes follow you as you do “He cheated on me with her, for Christ sake.” You whisper once the metal of the railing stops your step. 

“How long ago?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“No,” from the corner of your eye, you see how he shakes his head and leans in slightly “I'm wondering because if I was your dad or your brother or your friend, I would've done something to, at least, ensure something like this never happens to you.” 

“Yeah, about that…” A bitter chuckle abandons you and you shrug one more time “They don't really know what happened between us— They don't know something happened in the first place,” ashamed, once again, you turn to him “He asked me to not tell anyone when we started… Ack, whatever, it doesn't really matter.” 

“It does if it's affecting you,” he insists “It does if you go pale at the sight of him, Y/N. Did he do—” 

“No,” you cut him off, the corners of your lips lifting a bit “He didn't do anything weird besides breaking my heart.” 

“Good.” 

“I would've killed him if he did, by the way.” 

“As you should,” he returns right away and finally, for the first time in the twenty minutes it took both of you to get there, you laugh sincerely. That prompts a smile on his lips “Good to know he's an idiot but not that type of idiot.” 

Huffing, you turn to the city before you again “The only idiot in this situation is me.” 

“For loving someone? Y/N,” his hand reaches your shoulder and you close your eyes in defeat, surrendering your heart to the weird emotion it brings you “He cheated on you. He's the idiot, the dumbass, the—” 

Laughing again, his rant comes to an end and you open your eyes to find him staring at you in delight “Park Seonghwa,” you start, putting a hand over his on your shoulder “You, sir, don't know me.” 

The reminder does nothing to stop him from looking at you with stars in his eyes “I'm a great judge of character, Y/N.” 

“And if you're wrong?” 

“Then let me be wrong,” he shortens the distance a bit, the warmth on your shoulder leaving as he lowers both of your hands, not letting go “But let me get to know you first.” 

The emotion grows bigger, it swirls around your heart and spreads around your body in a way you never felt. It feels good and you hate to compare it to what you felt for Deokhee but where it once was filled with regrets and doubts and a need to hold on tight to whatever that guy made you feel now sits something that you can only describe as excitement and thrill. 

Peaceful, too. 

It steals your breath in a beautiful way. 

Squeezing his hand a little, you inhale slowly and let go of the air when you speak “I don't really do dates, Ghost.” 

“I didn't ask you on a date,” he counters immediately and your cheeks darken “I asked if I could get to know you. We don't have to go on dates, talking to you is enough.” 

“O-oh, I… I thought—” 

He seems to get it right away because he takes another step, your arm pressed to his by now, your hands still tangled in the middle “I one hundred percent meant it that way,” he assures you, chuckling a bit “But I don't really do dates either. Asking you out to a restaurant or a movie or whatever it is people do on dates doesn't really suit me.” 

“How so?” 

“There's this… Weird intention laced into it, into the prospect of a date that I don't particularly enjoy. I want to get to know people and see where it takes us without pressuring ourselves into anything romantic or sexual.” Your heart picks up at that. Not at the image it paints, but at his explanation as a whole. 

It shows he might be interested in you beyond something physical and it's a beautiful thing to note when, all your life, you have felt like people only wanted you for one thing and one thing only. 

You intend to tell him just that but the way he's looking at you makes you forget everything else. Brown eyes scan every inch of your face and stop at your lips for a second. 

Now your heart beats for a different reason. 

“No matter… How bad I want to kiss you, though.” 

Words fall short. They do when for the first time in a long time you entertain the possibility of letting yourself want to kiss someone else, too. 

Leaning in and straightening your back fully to give you the possibility of almost standing face to face with him, you silently communicate your desire. 

It's not enough. He's too respectful. 

Fuck, you like him a lot already. 

“If you want to kiss me then just kiss me…” you whisper, teasing smile in full display “Dummy.” 

He fakes a gasp at your jab as he leans in, his pretty nose bumping into yours for a second and making you giggle, part your lips and close your eyes while buzzing with expectation. 

The sky has other plans, though. It roars above you and you both look up. 

It's been cloudy, a couple of days of unusual humidity throwing off everyone but you guess the steam gathered up in the clouds just in time to knock some sense of reality into you. 

Or pushing you further into the craziness of this one day alone. 

Seonghwa groans a little and then a phone starts ringing in someone's pocket. 

Not yours, you made sure to hit the not disturb button as soon as you got ahold of it. 

You should probably tell your brother you're okay. 

But Seonghwa is still close to you, his lips a breath away from yours, so you put it aside when he shows no intention of picking up his call either. 

The tension builds up again, both of you ignoring the thunderstorm approaching and everything else. 

There's many things from today you're not going to be able to explain any time soon, the magnetic pull Seonghwa had on you the first time you laid eyes on him is one of them, the freedom you touch with your fingertips when your mind is finally off your duty, off your family… 

It's so dangerous you quickly become addicted to the recklessness of it all. 

And then his phone starts ringing again, so you welcome the reality that washes over you with a sour face and pout on your lips. 

“The universe must be against us being a thing, huh?” You whisper and he clicks his tongue in disapproval, resting his forehead on yours for a second before pulling away completely, pulling out his phone from his pocket. 

“I don't think the universe has much to do with this one, dear,” he frowns and misses the way you flush at the sudden nickname. You swear on your life, normally you would be pretty disgusted at the endearment. Now? You want him to call you that again “I should take this and we should probably go somewhere else. There's not much to cover us up if it starts raining.” 

“Sure, uh…” You fish your phone from your pocket as well, grimacing when you look at the missed calls and texts “I have to make a call, too.” 

He seems to understand immediately “Go right ahead.” 

Putting even more distance in between both of you, you faintly hear a what's going on from Seonghwa and then tap your screen to return your brother's call. 

He picks up right away. 

“Are you okay?!” 

His tone forces your eyes closed. Rushed, you picture him in the backyard with a cigarette in between his fingers, trying to get ahold of himself without worrying everyone else too much “Yeah, I'm okay. I'm with a friend and—” 

“Then why don't you pick up the fucking phone?!” 

“Calm down,” taking in a breath and letting it out, you hear him do the same before continuing “Is there a way I can explain all of this to you tomorrow? I'm fine, Deokhee is a dick and I don't ever want to see him so I ran away like a—” 

“What did he do?” 

“No, nothing now, it's just… Listen, I'll explain tomorrow, alright? I'm staying with my friend tonight and everything will make sense tomorrow. It's really dumb, like… Teenage drama dumb,” you sigh, hoping that the minimal information you're giving him can help him figure it out “Just tell dad that I'm fine and if he asks I'm with a friend who is a girl and she's staying over at my place because there was a… Boy emergency or whatever.” 

“Are you with—” what seems to click is something else and your brother gasps “Y/N!” 

“Can you help out this time?”

The silence on the line seems to extend forever and guilt licks your throat, giving you the feeling that it's about to close up. 

You want to grasp what you felt a minute ago again, the freedom of this, of doing too much, of unnecessarily putting Christian through it because he already did so much for you growing up. 

Just tonight, at least, you owe yourself the feeling of not proving your place in your own family. 

But the silence hurts and you wonder if you could ever, truly, be free from it. 

“You owe me an explanation. Take care and text me goodnight at least, yeah?” 

“Okay,” you whisper back “Thank you, Ian.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, kid.” 

His words fill your eyes with tears again and you don't get to reciprocate them before he hangs up. You know he knows, but it still hurts when you remember how unlovable you felt before you met him as a child.

It hurts when you remember that you allowed Deokhee to make that feeling return. 

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. 

And the more it hurts, the more the sky rumbles and you fear that, if you break down here and now, it would not only embarrass you in front of Seonghwa but also strand him on this hill with you. 

It doesn't matter that he calls this his breaking point, it's not yours to use. 

So again, your tears stay at bay and when you turn around you catch Seonghwa looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

He wants to hug you, his body language gives him away as soon as he steps closer to you but a storm is about to soak through your clothes any second, so you pass him and grab his hand to pull him to his bike in the process. 

When his fingers intertwine with yours, you know he understands. He doesn't make any questions, he doesn't press any information out of you and just allows you to climb his motorcycle. 

“We need to leave.” 

“Where do you want to go?” he asks, getting on the bike as well and goes in for his helmet but your words stop him. 

“Do you want to stay the night with me?” 

Turning his head, he blinks at you a few times and you smile a little before the curve fades away. 

“I have my own place, we can order something in and just talk. Seonghwa, you…” biting the inside of your cheek, you try to approach this the right way “I don't expect this to go anywhere but can't you… Do you feel it too?” 

He stays silent and you fear you might've taken it too far. But it doesn't really matter. Willing to take the risk, you take his hand on yours again and hold it close to your heart. 

The sky roars again in response. 

And you catch when his breath hitches because of it, too. 

“Do you feel it, Seonghwa?” 

A bit passes and then some, his eyes searching for something in yours and then dropping to where your heart beats again.

“What's your address?”

It's already raining by the time you both get into your building’s garage and park his Bonneville. 

The entire ride was a bit long. It had you resting your head on his back while his fingers tapped against yours with impatience. 

But when you make it to the safe space that is the elevator, clothes showing the evidence of the droplets falling from the sky and all, you finally get to breathe. 

Until Seonghwa steals that breath away again. 

He stares at you through the mirror, steps closer until he can take your face with his hands and swipes under your eyes where the makeup has run a little. 

“Ghost…” 

‘I didn't answer before,” he murmurs and wet his lips with his tongue. You can't help but stare at them, the moment somehow more intimate now, under the fluorescent glow of the elevator, than with the city lights and lighting above you “But I do feel it. I stand on what I said before, though.” 

“No dating?” 

He chuckles “No, not that,” shaking his head, he steps away when the elevator gets to your floor “I want to get to know you either way.” 

“Ah. That,” you feel silly for assuming he didn't want to date you, but given your history you're not sure you can blame yourself too much “Well, you're about to see my cave, so we're both halfway there.” 

As soon as you open the door and turn on the light, you can see in his face that he sees what you mean. 

It's a one bedroom apartment that doesn't leave too much to the imagination. Your bedroom’s door is opened, the bathroom door is closed and the kitchen is an American style one that's separated from the living space by a small counter you can barely fit your mail on. 

There's a lot of old furniture that you remodeled, painted over the cracks and stuffed where you needed the most. Your fridge is also old, the couch is somehow the only modern looking item in the living room and it stands out a bit because its material is not as worn out as everything else. 

There's posters on the walls, unframed and placed randomly because, here, you don't have to be put together. The only people who come over are your brother and your dad, so it's okay. 

It's not even an old building, but your apartment makes it look like one. 

“Hope you don't mind the mess, Grandpa.” 

“Oh, I'm not Ghost anymore?” He asks with a breathy laugh, taking his shoes off as you place yours by the entrance and shrugging his jacket off too “It's not messy, it's… Kind of like the shop, really.” 

Mirroring his actions, you take off the leather jacket and welcome the warmth of your apartment “Greasy?” 

“Cool,” he corrects and you walk through your space picking up a few things from the floor and putting them by the living room table “Is it yours, by the way?” 

“The shop?” he nods and you walk to your fridge to fetch you both some water bottles “It's my dads. Why do you ask?” 

“You seemed to own the place, with the way you walked around it,” shrugging, he takes a seat on your couch as he takes in the space “I just wondered…” 

Walking in front of him on purpose, because you could've easily rounded the table and sat at the opposite edge of the couch, you sit right beside him and offer him a water bottle that he takes with a whispered thanks “You wondered…” 

“A lot of stuff, actually,” he admits and you smile “Like your age, for example. Your last name, how did you end up working as a mechanic, if you were studying something, if you…” he pauses and turns to the side, resting his shoulder on the couch “If you liked me the way I liked you.” 

Choking on the water you're gulping down, it's very evident you didn't think he was about to go down that lane again. 

So directly, too. 

He laughs, leaning in and wiping your chin with a familiarity that has you even more breathless than his confession. No, scratch that, it's all of it. All of him. 

“Don't make me get on that bike again tonight, dear.” 

That goddamn endearment again. You might risk it all and kiss him, chin wet and all. 

“Whatever for?”

“You clearly almost choked to death,” he exaggerates, probably an excuse to stay that close to you longer than he needs to “And it was my fault, too.” 

Smiling and shaking your head, you push him a bit until he falls back into his previous position, smugness tugging at his lips in a way that has your insides jolting up with excitement “I do like you, Ghost.” 

“I know that now, but earlier I did wonder.” 

“Wondering is such a dangerous thing, isn't it?” 

His smile settles with a softness that melts you, your hand back in his with ease “Not necessarily.”

Squeezing his hand in unspoken agreement, you nod and then try to remember the topic of conversation before… Well, before he distracted you. 

“Well, you were kind of right with your assumptions then. It's not my shop, but I grew up in it,” you shrug, letting go of his hand to grab your phone “We should probably wait to order something.” 

“Yeah, until the monsoon dies down,” he says, looking outside your window that does little to conceal the thunderstorm outside “You grew up fixing bikes?” 

“Cars,” you correct with a nod, connecting your phone to the speaker that lies under your tv “Is my day to day playlist alright?” 

“Yup,” he crosses his legs on the couch and you see from the corner of your eye how his follow your actions, heat rushing to your cheeks at how attentive he is “Did you always want to be a mechanic?” 

The question takes you by surprise, but you cover it up as you set the volume to the perfect percentage to let you two have a proper conversation without raising your voices “Kind of. It's all I'm good at, really,” you shrug “Also, my dad’s wife looked very cool in pictures growing up and I wanted to be just like her, so.”

“Your mom?” you shake your head and he frowns “Your stepmom?” 

“No, uh…” clearing your throat, you get ready to reveal a piece of you that you rarely share with other people, even if it's obvious to everyone else “I'm adopted. Me and my brother we, mmm, we used to live in this sort of… Group house, I guess, and dad just picked us one day,” word vomiting again, once that you open the dam you don't know how to stop “I mean, he's not… We're not blood related, either, he just brought me along like when you adopt a dog at a shelter and they give you their favorite blanket, you know?” 

Seonghwa is full on frowning at that and you think that, for the sake of just agreeing with you, he's going to nod and let it go, but he doesn't “I don't think you're just something your brother brought along with him. Adopting two kids is a big decision, isn't it?” 

Reluctantly, you nod. 

“Well, there you go.” 

“I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him, though,” you shrug and sip on your water bottle again, gulping the liquid to send that lump on your throat down “But it doesn't really matter because it was a long time ago and now they're both stuck with me.” 

He shakes his head but laughs a little at your sudden shift and, this time, he does let it go. 

But you don't. 

“Thank you, by the way.” 

He smiles, a little confused “For what?” 

“Helping me when I needed you to. We don't really know each other and yet…” 

“It feels like I know you, though.” 

Sharing the sentiment, you nod “I know, it's weird but, uhm… You didn't need to do what you did for me tonight. You even took me to your breaking point!” you let out a puff of air, making it a bigger deal than what it sounds. It's a bigger deal for you, anyway “And then drove me all the way here. That's a lot.” 

“It's not much. It was my fault, really,” he shrugs and shakes his head at the confused look you give him “I kind of… Asked the universe for an excuse to stay with you, so…” 

“Ah, so it was your fault Deokhee showed up,” the lighthearted joke lands the way you intended because he laughs with a sound so beautiful it makes your heart pick up “Got it.” 

“Do you feel better? I mean, after seeing him, are you feeling better?” 

“Not really, it sucks,” you say with a bitter laugh “But I hold grudges like that. It's not…” you raise your hands in self defense suddenly “I don't want him like that anymore, it's just that I can't help but…”  

“I understand,” he whispers and you let out a sigh again, grateful that he interrupted your rambling “People believe that forgive and forget is the way to go when you're resenting someone but human beings don't really work like that, hm?” 

“Yeah…” 

Staring at him, that weird emotion that you felt at the top of the hill comes back. That dangerous warmth that makes you want to take his hand in yours and place your lips at the back of it with a familiarity you haven't really earned yet. 

So when you catch him staring at you the same way, you change the subject. 

“What do you do?” eyebrow raising, you eye him suspiciously and that makes him giggle “Meetings all day, past normal shift hours…”

“I renovate spaces, Y/N,” he laughs again “You made it sound like I work with the mafia.” 

“Do you?” 

“No. I have a buddy that does, though.” 

“Oh, so I was kind of right then?” 

“Yeah, yeah…” you both laugh again and then he looks around your living space like he did when you two first got in “You were right about the whole getting to know you just by looking at your apartment.” 

“I know, it says a lot about a person.” 

“It does!” He's excited now, sitting straighter and turning ever so slightly, your knees bumping now “There's only a few people that I trust who have those… Beige, white and black houses or apartments and that's only because I got to know them before I saw where they live.” 

“So, you have rich friends?” 

He stops and thinks for a second “Yeah, they all have a lot of money. I mean, the people I'm talking about, not my friends,” you raise your eyebrow again and he chuckles “Alright, I only have one rich friend. The rest of them are broke musicians and college students. He was actually the one who called earlier and, uhm…” 

“Interrupted us?” You offer, smiling. 

His cheeks gain a little color, maybe from the memory “Y-yeah.” 

“Everything's okay?” 

“Yes! Yeah, he wanted me to go pick him up from something but I told him I couldn't because, well—” 

“You were with me.” 

“Mhm,” you see him gulp and the mood shifts a little bit again. His face falls down as he eyes your parted lips, leaning in again ever so slightly, like he's not really thinking it through “Couldn't leave you stranded and he has a chauffeur.” 

Unconsciously, you start leaning in a bit too.

“Do you like it?” 

“Yes… D-do I like what?”

You chuckle and he breathes out a laugh, too “Renovating spaces…” 

Pressing his hands into the fabric on the couch, at your sides, he invades your space a little more now “I do… Do you like fixing cars?” 

Nodding, your nose is a whisper away from his now “I do…” 

He breathes and it lands right on your mouth, making you pant as well. 

“That's good.” 

“Mhm.” 

Eyes closing, your lips tremble a little as you wait for him to close the distance. 

“You're so fucking pretty—” 

You close the distance instead, pressing your mouth into his and letting the tension deflate your posture because you're finally tasting him. 

Your little fantasy is not a fantasy anymore. 

And it feels so fucking good. It feels good to have someone you desire, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, reciprocate your emotions and pull you closer to make acquaintance with your taste as well. 

Seonghwa makes a noise you want to engrave into your brain the second you grab his shirt and pull him to you as well. And then you move. 

The couch is stuffy, your bed is a mess and the cold from the thunderstorm makes its way to your living room even if you feel your entire body lit up from the swipe of his tongue against yours. 

So you stand up. 

You give him a teasing smile when his mouth chases after yours once you pull away “Where are you going?” 

“Another thing you should know about me,” you start, breathy, your thumb swiping your bottom lip on instinct and his eyes follow the motions “Is that I have very noisy neighbors. The woman in that apartment over there,” you point at the window right in front of yours, the building separated by the street but still close enough to tell everything that goes inside your neighbors apartment if you wanted to “Once made a complaint against me because I walked out in my underwear one time.” 

“Is she blind or bitter or something?” he asks, amused by your sudden storytelling, chest heaving as you pull your curtains closed “Or both?” 

“She's old,” you tell him, turning around “And you haven't seen me in my underwear to make that a point, Ghost.” 

“Yet,” he smirks slyly and you blush at the implication. Seonghwa reaches for you as you pass in front of him again and slip right through his fingers a second time “Now where are you going?” 

He sounds whiny. 

You like that. 

“Another thing you should know about me,” walking to the door and turning off the big light, the living room goes dark except for the lighting that illuminates it as you're making your way back to him, getting on your knees on the couch and reaching behind him to turn on a lamp that doesn't do much but, this way, at least you can see each other “Is that I don't invest in new shit. Can't afford it, so those curtains are useless during the day… And when the lights are turned on.” 

“You don't want people to gossip about you kissing a hot guy?” 

“Wow,” his cockiness is clearly a joke but you won't let the opportunity of making fun of him go “Is the hot guy in the room with us?”  

He beams at you. 

“Oh, shut up, Y/N.” 

Humming and feeling a lot more comfortable now that you know that, in fact, the spotlight won't be on you when you keep kissing his lips raw as you intend to, you loop your index finger in the collar of his shirt and tug with minimal force at it. 

He acts like you put a lot of strength while doing it, his lips a breath from yours again as a consequence.  

You're about to let out a witty remark, something to keep the teasing and flirting going but then his eyes actually light up like the sky when the song playing on the speaker changes. 

“That's what you were humming yesterday!” His hands fall to your waist and you all but get whiplashed at the quick change in attitude. 

He looked like he was about to risk it all a second ago and now he's letting his back fall into the couch and taking you with him. 

“Huh?”

“I didn't saw anyone when I came into the shop yesterday and then I heard you humming this song.” 

“Oh,” you laugh, braising yourself on your forearms as he moves his hands up your back “Is one of my favorite songs by them.” 

“By who?”

Eyes wide as saucers, you gape at him in disbelief “Kiss?” 

“I don't know them like that!” 

“You don't know this?” he giggles under your scrutinizing gaze and you follow, still in disbelief. You don't really know what possesses you, but you start singing along to the lyrics “I was made for lovin’ you, baby. You were made for lovin’ me.” 

Seonghwa's laughter dies down at that and you notice it too: How the words somehow seem fitting even though you is day two of knowing him. 

The way his heart beats under the palm you place right above it, on his chest, feels intoxicating. 

So you descend again, your front colliding with his and your mouth grazing his beautiful one as you sing the song to him. 

“And I can't get enough of you baby, can you get enough of me?” 

“Fuck…” 

You laugh “That's not really how it goe—” 

His tongue probing your lips open shuts you up for good. 

Seonghwa's hands hold you close, tracing the curve on your back slowly with his thumbs until he finds that spot where your shirt rode up a little, goosebumps on your skin letting him know what he provokes on you. 

There's never been a point in time where you let yourself wonder if you're moving too fast. 

For you, someone who had to take every chance they got in life to get something, out of fear the opportunity wouldn't show up again, this thing you got with Seonghwa feels like it's going at the right pace. 

You both like each other, that much is clear. 

Nothing dramatic has really happened to bond you two together, but it feels like it has. 

Like you're bonded. 

Like it was fated, somehow. 

Like his motorcycle had to break down and he had to walk into the shop when you were the only one there to assist him. 

Like he had to see you breakdown, take you away from the despair Deokhee brings to your soul, in order for you to finally let go and move on to greater things. 

And there's nothing greater than feeling his hand travel down and absentmindedly grab your ass, a noise of satisfaction slipping through your lips and landing on his at the feeling. 

“I'm so—” 

“I liked it,” your smile blends with his as you peck his lips and he does it again, gaining a pleased hum from you “Come here, Ghost.” 

“Where?” 

Disentangling your limbs from his, you follow your original plan and slip from the couch to the floor, your knees hitting the soft carpet you have under the coffee table you're grateful is not that in the way.

Seonghwa sits on the couch again, opening his legs to accommodate the new position you're in and you see the image get to him before the suggestion hits your head. 

You see him gulp when you lick your lips and then it's your turn to gulp, trying to understand if this is something he wants as much as you want it.

Because suddenly you want it. You want it so much. 

It doesn't take much to gather up the courage to touch him, his thighs inviting you to caress them with your nails, teasing, testing him “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, hooded eyes and a soft, whiny, trembling tone making fidget on your knees “More than okay.” 

It makes you smile. But there's things to clear up before you go any further. 

“I don't want you to think I brought you to my house just to get on my knees in front of you, Seonghwa.” 

“I don't… I w-would never think that,” you nod and he releases a shuddering breath “I don't want you to think that this is all I want from you either, Y/N.” 

“I don't think that,” you whisper “but thank you for making it clear.” 

“Mhm, I… Oh.” He stops when your touch trails higher and you take your hands away. 

“You wanted to say something else?” 

“N-no.” 

Squinting your eyes at him, you press “You sure?” 

“I was going to say that I want you… S-so please touch me, please.” 

Who would've thought that a man begging would turn you on so, so much? 

You catch on to it immediately. Lowering your hands again, this time around his calves, you pull him a little so he can sit on the edge of the worned out couch. 

He follows suit. 

“You want me to touch you?” you murmur and he nods “Where?”

He closes his eyes, blush beautifully creeping up his neck “Y/N…” 

“You asked me to touch you, but I already was…” you say, like it's the most obvious thing ever “So where do you want to be touched, hm?” 

Straightening your spine and angling yourself upwards, your nose hovers just below his chin. Hands starting to go up again, you hear his breath hitched when your palm grabs into the fabric of his pants before letting it go, the sound of it hitting the skin under making you and him release a noise. 

“How do you want to be touched?” 

Looking down, Seonghwa's mouth barely brushes your nose when he says “So it's going to be like this?” 

“It's working for you,” you whisper back, the pad of your fingers pressing on his inner thighs and, when you look down, the tent in his pants curves your lips with pride that shows when you turn to him again “Isn't it?” 

Pupils blown, he bites down on his lip and you see, for a slight second, a switch in his demeanor that makes you want to drop the teasing just to ask him to take you right there, on the floor, on the couch, wherever he wants to. 

But, as soon as your fingernails trace the outline of his cock, he switches back “P-please...” 

He doesn't have to beg you anymore. 

Desperate to have him squirming under your touch, you push a little with your thumbs and he whines, a sweet sound you can't treasure as long as you want to because hand grabs your neck and his mouth crushes yours in want. 

In a few seconds, the button of his pants is off and the fabric is pooling at his ankles. You help him out of them, his mouth never leaving yours except when you two break apart to pass sweet moans in between kisses and barely there bites. 

Boxers succumbing to the same fate as his pants, you get him needy and panting into your open mouth as you finally take him fully into your hand. 

Pumping one and then twice, you finally pull away to look at him and the sight that welcomes you is beautiful, big and oozing at the tip. 

Eyes connecting with Seonghwa’s again, you make sure he's looking at you before gathering spit and letting it fall into your hand. 

He moans. 

And then he moans a little more when you start working his length, butt connecting to the carpet once again to give him attention fully. 

It feels invigorating, the control he gives you makes you float into an intimate space you never had the opportunity to explore before and that just adds up to the list of things you're grateful for. 

You take in his reactions, the way he's having a hard time keeping his mouth shut when you get close to the tip and tease it before going back down, the way his breath catches in his throat when you lean in and blow some air on it before letting yourself have a taste of him. 

Licking around the tip and eyeing him as you do so, you get to catch him throw his head back in bliss. Then, you indulge both of you a little bit more: hollowing your cheeks, you move forward to take him in your mouth. 

And then you moan around him at the feeling and he shivers under the palm you placed on his knee to keep steady as you suck him off. 

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dear,” he encourages and you bat your eyelashes at him teasingly, making him chuckle before whining again. Tangling his fingers on your head to guide you to the right speed, he closes his eyes and curses under his breath “So fucking good.” 

It only makes you want to hear him again. So you do your best to stay on him, breathing through your nose and continuing your ministrations as you moans above you, filling your living room with sounds you want to plaster across the walls, encapsulate in a bottle to hear them again when he's not with you. 

You take him deeper and his grasp on your head tenses before you release him with a lewd sound you didn't really intend to make. 

Breathing hard, you let out a whine when he tilts your head back. He looks at you with indescribable desire, want and a little smile that prones yours. 

“You have no idea,” he starts, leaning in to take you mouth with his again, tongue swiping at the saliva that gathered under your bottom lip “How bad I want to ruin you now.” 

Oh, so maybe he's not as submissive as you thought. You should've guessed it, the slight switch and the little glint earlier would've hinted you his true intimate nature if you weren't so busy trying to get the act up. 

“Only if you want to, of course.” 

And yet, he's such a fucking gentleman. You can practically feel yourself getting wetter at his words. 

Your whisper is sweet, a confirmation on what you want and what he obviously wants to hear “Come here, Ghost.” 

You make space for him on the floor and he doesn't question why the both of you are not on the way to your bed right now. 

He seems to like it, even, so you giggle into his mouth at his eagerness to lay you down on the soft carpet and hum appreciatively when his hands bypass your shirt and grab your bare waist to accommodate you both into a comfortable position. 

With his leg in between yours and his chest pressed against you, he kisses you until you're pliant, needy and janking him down to earn some sort of friction. 

Mouth descending down your cheek, into your jaw and then your neck, Seonghwa scatters kisses in the soft spots like he already mapped you out with his mouth. 

His hands touch you where you like, his knee bumps into your core to keep you there as he works his way through you like he had you like this before and it's addicting. 

It feels right. 

He mouths at the valley of your breasts and softly sinks his teeth into the flesh through your shirt and it makes you dizzy, letting out a moan that makes him smile. 

Touching him too, you give his back some attention before sinking your fingers on his silky hair and tugging at the strands. 

He kisses down, down, down until he reaches your belly and then bites you the same way he did seconds ago “Ghost…” 

“Say my name, Y/N.” 

“Hm?” 

“I love when you call me Ghost,” he starts, breathing hard and you watch his nose disappear under the fabric of your shirt, raising it a bit more when he moves to be eye to eye with you “but I want you to call my name if I'm making you feel good,” kissing the sense out of you for a few seconds, he talks against your mouth “Can you do that for me, dear?” 

“Yes,” you barely nod, opening your eyes to find his “Seonghwa.” 

The way you whisper his name, needy and teasingly at the same time, seems to wake something else in him. 

Because in a second, he's asking you to raise your body a little so he can take your shirt off. You help him with his and he moves to undo the clasp on your bra after asking for permission one more time and you shouldn't really find his insistent questioning of consent so hot but you do. 

He takes his time with you, exploring you with his mouth as you do your best to keep still under him. He kisses your chest, rounding your nipples with his tongue and taking them into his mouth after.

Lightning illuminates the room and electricity runs through you and settles into your core. 

“Seonghwa…” 

The sky roars when he gives your legs attention over the fabric of your pants, moans blending into the thunder and the sound of the raindrops against the window when he pulls back and raises your left leg to kiss a path from your ankle to your thigh. 

You buck your hips at the feeling, asking for more without really saying anything and he smiles before moving to your right leg and giving it the same amount of attention. 

“You want me to touch you?” He asks and you're about to call him out for being mean and clueless, but his smirk proves he's only teasing “Where do you want me to touch you, Y/N?” voice low and dripping in honey, he unbuttons your pants and you're not too fucked out yet to know he's returning the way you tortured him earlier “How do you want me to touch you?” 

Your pants end up meeting with his somewhere under the coffee table and you smile when he zeroes on the wet patch your arousal has formed on your underwear. 

And, unlike him, you're not actually humble in asking what you want “Don't you want to taste the mess you've made, Seonghwa?” 

When he eats you out, he makes sure to taste it real good. Open you up with his fingers, learn the right pace and pressure until heat pools on your lower abdomen and you're incoherently babbling praises under your breath. 

When you come undone on his tongue, you make sure to repeat his name like a mantra. Over and over again until he's sated with his meal and leaves the remnants of it in wet marks as he makes his way up to your mouth. 

Tasting yourself on his tongue is heaven. 

“Sound so pretty for me, you're so… Fuck, Y/N.” 

Taking him into your hand again, his dick twitches at the sudden attention it's getting and you explore the skin on his neck, lap at his collarbone and nuzzle against it because you just can't get enough. 

“I want you inside me, Seonghwa,” you whisper against his skin and you see him close his eyes when your other hand joins you on his chest, thumb against his nipple “Ruin me like you promised, hm?” 

He grabs your chin, eyes dark with passion and affection in a way you never want to forget “Your filthy mouth might be the death of me.” He whispers and you giggle, bratty.

“Good, I never want you to forget it,” you whisper back “I never want you to forget me.” 

“Never in a million years, dear.” 

Happy at his response, you kiss him and feel the warmth of his hand leaving you to try and grab his pants again. You giggle when he curses lowly, letting go of him so he can take a condom out of his wallet with a smile on his face. 

He looks back at you in the process, shaking his head in amusement at the way you're taking the tender pause and he's smiling when he rolls on the condom as well as when he lowers himself so he can kiss you senseless again. 

When Seonghwa enters you, the whiny mess he was when you first touched him makes its comeback and you welcomed it as you sink your nails into the skin of his waist, accompanying his slow movements as he eases you open. 

Soon, you're a whiny mess too. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear and kisses your shoulder while you hug him tight to you and let yourself get lost in the buck of his hips and the way he slows downs to make the moment last, like you're not planning on keeping him in your life and making him see stars whenever he wants. 

When he picks up the pace, the living room is warmer than it was when you first came in and the cold from the storm outside it's forgotten as his sweaty forehead rests on yours and his hips snap into yours with vigor.

“That’s it, dear. God, you feel so good…” 

Ruin you he does. Because this time, as he flicks your clit with his thumb and you come, it solidifies the fact that there's no one else you want. 

Is it crazy and a little rushed because you just met him? Yes. 

Do you give a damn? No. No you fucking dont. 

He ruins you for good and for everyone else, as well. 

“Seonghwa! Fuck, fuck, don't stop.” You beg, overstimulated and hips aching, but wanting him to reach his high so badly none of that matters. 

When his hips stutter, you take his ass with your hands and keep him in place, buried deep inside of you and walls pulsing around him as he comes with a beautiful cry and a rasp of your name in his throat. 

Panting, you take the opportunity to kiss his face as he comes down, nose slowly caressing his with affection and gratefulness and emotion you can't express because it's not the time yet. 

“God, Y/N.” He breathes out with a chuckle and you reciprocate it, kissing his mouth once more before deflating against the soft carpet under you. 

“I know,” you look at him, at his fucked out expression and the cute way he kisses the hand you use to wipe the sweat out of his face makes you feel giddy and in love, even if you know you're aren't in love with him yet “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.” 

Laughing, he nods in agreement “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.” 

He kisses you again and then pulls out, making a quick work on the condom and asking for the bathroom so he can dispose of it before making his way back to you. 

When he does, you're already sitting down, still naked, but sipping at your forgotten water bottle. Sitting down next to you, he places a kiss on top of your head.

The carpet is definitely going to use some cleaning after tonight, but that's okay. 

There's a bit of comfortable silence as you both recover from the amazing sex you just had. He takes a sip of your water bottle as well and then there's another thunder that shakes your window and all, making you both jump a little. 

Seonghwa “Do you… Mind if I stay over?” 

You snort “I wasn't planning on letting you go anywhere, Ghost.” 

He smiles, getting close to your face again “Even if it stops raining?” 

You nod, pecking his lips “Even if I have to go and clean up my room just for you.” 

“Oh, wow,” he whistles loud and you push him in feign annoyance, looking around for your underwear “You like me, like me.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” 

He attempts to hug you but you push him away again and stand up, making a quick job of putting your panties back on “Say that you like me and I'll let you kidnap me if you want.” 

“That's not how kidnapping works, idiot.” 

He gets up as well, taking his underwear and putting it on as he follows you around your apartment. 

You quicken your step, but he catches you right as you enter the mess in your bedroom. He hugs you tight, you back against his bare chest and his chin on your shoulder a second later “I'll honestly let you keep me even if you say you hate me, Y/N.”

Is sweet and it should make you cringe but you all but melt against his touch. There's no really a need to tell him you like him when you place his hand on top of your chest so he can take in the way your heart beats for him for the second time tonight. 

“Good,” you turn a little, smiling at him and then turning to your room again “Do you want to help me clean this up just to make it messy again?” 

“Y/N!” 

Seonghwa doesn't help you clean your room. He, in fact, makes it a lot messier as soon as you two get into bed and when he falls asleep he dreams of a life where he can be by your side every night. 

The only thing that disturbs his sweet dreams is the way you squirm in his hold and he can't quite place the reason for it until he hears the loud, banging alarm ringtone he has set at six thirty so he can get ready for work. 

Murmuring and still half asleep, you slap his chest so he can tend to it “Turn it off, Ghost.” 

He does and he checks the time and the screen of his phone to find a message from his boss. It reads something about taking the opportunity to take the rainy day and work from home or something like that and Seonghwa can confirm, looking through your bedroom window, that the rain falls softly against it still. 

He smiles, grateful to have his laptop with him so he can work on his report if you decide not to kick him out first thing in the morning, and then rolls back to you so he can cuddle you and sleep in for the first time in months of commuting to the office. 

Then his phone rings again. 

Both of you groan at the sound and you sit up, the big t-shirt you put on after taking a shower gathering messily around your waist and he almost forgets about the call at the sight of you. 

You're so beautiful. 

“Pick it up and tell them to go fuck themselves for calling you so early. What the fuck.” 

He smiles “Bossy.” 

“You like it.” You say, smiling back and falling on top of him as he answers the call from an unknown number, your cheek resting on his chest. 

He makes sure his voice sounds extra sleepy when he does “Hello?” 

“Good morning, mister Park!” It's a woman on the line, a voice he recognizes but can't quite place yet “I'm sorry to wake you up, but yesterday you asked me what good you're to me… Guess what? You can find out today!” 

She sounds sarcastic and tired and like she drank seventy energy drinks to stay awake. Seonghwa scavenges his brain until the memory hits him “Miss Kim?” 

You look up at that, curious. 

“The one and only. Now, tonight you will accompany me to a party and—” 

“Miss Kim—” 

“I'm not finished,” you cuts him off, annoyed “At the party, I need you to pretend to be my boyfri—” 

“No.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“No, I will not go to the party with you and no, I will not pretend to be your boyfriend.” 

Now, you sit up on the bed again and frown at him. He shrugs and sits up as well.

“This could be a really great opportunity for you to gain connections and—” 

“Miss Kim,” he starts and, after taking in the sudden desperation on her voice, he sighs “I'm flattered you have taken me into consideration for this… Particular, uhm, job?” He offers, feeling awkward as hell “But my day is taken and I'm not single anymore, so I can't do it.” 

He watches you as you break into a little knowing smile and he smiles back, not even the disappointed sigh Miss Kim lets out on the other side of the line can break him away from the spell you so easily put him under. 

“This is very inconvenient for me but I hope you and the cool girl I saw yesterday are happy together… Even if it ruins my happiness forever!” She sounds like she doesn't really mean the last part but it's trying hard to make it seem like she does “God… Ugh. Don't mention this to my brother and please cover that stupid tree up, okay? Goodbye.” 

She hangs up before he even gets the chance of saying goodbye or asking if she'll be okay. He has friends who wouldn't pass the opportunity to fake a relationship and go to a party, anyway. 

“So,” you start, getting on your knees and making your way back to him “What the fuck was that?” 

He reaches for your waist without really thinking about it, like he's been doing it his whole life and you sit on his lap like this is a morning routine you two crafted with years of experience. 

“I don't really know. Remember my client's sister?” you nod “She wanted me to be her fake boyfriend at a party tonight, I think.” 

“And you told her you're not single anymore to save face because you didn't want to go?” 

“I told her I wasn't single because I'm not,” he says, honestly “Even if you're not my girlfriend right now… I don't really want to see anyone else but you, so…” 

You fake a gasp and he rolls his eyes, smiling like an idiot when you lean in to leave a peck on his lips “And I was about to kick you out ten minutes ago!” 

Pouting, he holds you tighter “Why?” 

“That stupid alarm almost made me.” 

“I turned it off!” 

You laugh at the way he pretends to be offended and you're about to say something else before his phone starts ringing like crazy. 

It's not a call, it's a message notification. 

He turns to it and sees that Yunho is spamming the group chat with emojis. 

“Oh, God,” he sighs “What now?” 

“Is that your friend from yesterday?” 

“Mhm.” 

When Seonghwa scrolls to the messages to find something that can indicate what the hell is going on, he reads something a little alarming. 

Does anyone want to skip town tonight? 

He blocks the phone and tosses it into the bed, turning to your worried form with a smile “Do you want to meet my friends tonight?” 

You seem to get it immediately. 

“I would love to, Ghost,” you lean in to kiss him again, softly “Only if you introduce me as your girlfriend and not your mechanic, though.” 

Heart beating with a wonderful song, he agrees with soft yes and kisses you dumb for the first time today. 

He almost misses the deadline for his report, too. 

It's not really his fault that he can't get enough of you. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[kidmachinate]

Count The Losses

Credit above to By Lainey Molnar:

https://www.facebook.com/share/GqwjUgp5nBeqH6sn/?mibextid=qi2Omg

***************************************************

Since mid last year, it's been a constant struggle and survival has become a lifestyle more so than ever. There have been some bright spots along the way but the everlasting need to make things work is truly taking its toll on my mental state of being. Since mid last year, all of the following has taken place:

- kicked out an ex-roommate that quickly showed they never truly appreciated where they at to begin with due to their refusal to do basic tasks and hold a job for very long

- helped financially during a job rut my partner was going through

- got unwillingly terminated from a job after a few months due to a shift in roles and management around the time of my birthday last year

- left one other role due to lack of pay/commissions to pay the bills and toxic micromanagement

- got in with a startup company for the owner to then leave everyone without a job three months later due to their shitty management of money which screwed over not one but two companies worth of people due to his negligence

- Just before finding yet another role, helped with another job rut my partner was going through

- Lined up yet another role in which I start Monday, because the last one mentioned ending up not being a good fit among other details I won't get into until all is said and done. I left on good terms but we will have to wait and see if that truly ends up being the case.

Among everything here, I've had to dig into the entirety of my crypto stash which I believe was somewhere between 9k-11k worth of earnings at the time. The small positions I still have now are crumbs not worth mentioning. I did this bit by bit to be what I'd say would be 80% responsible, 20% pleasure. In between in all, at various points, I convinced myself life would get better. I still have to do that. I wanted to be sure we could live a little amongst all the chaos. I suppose this is the getting it all out post I had mentioned to some a while back. Taking note of the losses to be able to move forward. When tallying losses, it's important to remember the victories as well.

- The first half of South Florida Fair

-Nier Automata Concert

- Two visits from my partner's daughter, Ashley

- Varied friend gatherings and nights out

I have about four days to recharge before it is right back to the workforce and I'm beside myself. I know I did the right thing for my mental health but in the process of doing this, mental health takes a hit anyway because of needing to make ends meet. Bouncing between four jobs myself and surviving through my partner's two job ruts (months at a time) to support the household...maybe I should be happy I'm still here. Happy I have any savings or investments left to speak of, even if far from what is considered a safe nestegg for one and for the other an account I haven't been able to grow for a long time. There are also losses that date back to COVID times (that I did not list) in which many of us took a hit. I'm sure I'm not the only one in which we still haven't fully recovered, and things like inflation and turbulent job markets seem to be the new norm. It's fucking exhausting out there.

Intimacy means many different things nowadays and posts are being made about it. Simply speaking, if it makes you happy, chase that. I imagine many are tired of being resilient in their own lives. Survival. Working for people that very likely don't appreciate you to pay the bills and maybe cram in time with people that do appreciate you. Connection matters so much more now than ever. If you don't have that going for you through various outlets, what are we even doing here?

I'm trying to get myself back in a state in which connections I have are enhanced or even embracing new connections with those who treat people as human with real feelings and real needs. Understand that it is not just our individual struggles but struggles together, and we can bounce back and get through this. Have the hard conversations to be able to enjoy a good life. Have less time for, or ditch entirely, those not willing to grow. Stagnancy sucks because at various points you're gonna be stuck with some form of it. You're embracing the grind and not much changes as it takes time to grow. Celebrate that growth. Smile and laugh more. Know your tribe.

I think the world would go a long way if we can be grounded in realism instead of pessimism or optimism. Too far in either direction is bad. No one wants to be around a downer all the time just as much as someone doesn't want to be around a person that in all sunshine and rainbows to the point where you pretend life is perfect and will be at all times.

I'm not the only one on this journey. Far from it. While I'm craving growth and creative outlets because it builds upon your lifestyle, which eventually translates to a happy home. What feels like crushing weight isn't all bad and the proof is there. Gotta set things back on course. Amber (my partner) is a part of that course, and anything I do creatively, people are bound to know about her as well.

Not much is more important than smiles on faces and acceptance. Safe spaces. Top tier values for me. Gotta keep it coming. We've tallied the losses, it's time to make a comparable list of wins.

[caffeine-clouds]

What Your Favourite Sonic Ship Says About You! (Part 1)

(Sonamy, Sonadow, Sonally) FULL DISCLAIMER: Shipping is a hot topic of debate, but this post is lighthearted fun! I'm a multi-shipper, I love most of these ships - and I can see why some people like the dynamics that I might not. This is not a bashing post, this is fun time. So, without further ado- Sonamy

You appreciate the simpler things in life. You decided to ship the protagonist with the main girl character just like 90% of all media writers, it's just what you're comfortable with. In terms of fanfiction tropes, do you happen to enjoy childhood sweethearts, meet-cutes, soulmates - that type of thing? I just had a feeling... Either way, you're just here for the cute vibes and the pining - and who can blame you? You probably really liked the fact that when you first came across the ship that it was the girl of the pair being the one so forward with her romantic feelings. But as time has gone on - you're either one of those people that really miss that side of Amy, or you're one of those that are so dang grateful they've toned her down. Either way, it's safe to say that this is one of the most vanilla of Sonic ships - and that's not an insult, vanilla is a good ice cream flavour. But no one is really going to fight you on your opinion other than the 5% of remaining toxic Sonally shippers, and those people that are somehow still living in the Sonic Heroes era. Sonadow

You saw that Sonic and Shadow's rivalry has been going on for far longer than 7 years, so it must be gay - and honestly, I can't fault your logic. You're a sucker for two disasters who can't express their feelings, and you have just determined that fighting is simply their love language. Even with Shadow's limited screen time in Prime, you suck every single dang crumb you're given like a vacuum. And by the way, you definitely have an Ao3 account - don't try and hide it. We already know you're a sucker for enemies/rivals to lovers... and I'd also wager you enjoy just-one-bed. Also you like that thing where characters constantly call each other by a nickname, and only end up calling them by their actual name during a confession scene or when one of the characters is seriously injured. I dunno, just had a hunch you'd like that sort of thing. You are debating between two sides of yourself - part of you wants Shadow's old characterization back where he was a more in-depth character and showed Sonic more respect, but part of you also loves how so damn obsessive Shadow is in modern games over Sonic and how much he wants to fight him - because that at least implies that Sonic is on Shadow's mind literally most of the time. But when all is said and done, this is vanilla when it comes to gay ships in the Sonic community. It's too damn easy, it's why it's the most popular Sonic ship on Tumblr. This ship was made for the LGBTQ+ community. Sonally

Opposites attract is your go-to, and it's been tried and tested - the formula works, I see it. You strike me as the person who really cares about canon material, and you tend to steer away from a lot of fanon. I also have a strong feeling you're a Sonic fan that's on the older side, back when SatAM and Archie were at their peak and considerably more popular. It's a ship with all the things you need to be happy - the characters have a deep, long-lasting bond, it's a sweet ship, and the two have constrasting personalities - so it doesn't get stale for you. You're probably into similar tropes as the Sonamy shippers - but you enjoy more drama and spice to your fanfics, and you won't shy away from angst - Archie loved its angst, I know you enjoyed that shit. You're either content with all the Sonally content you've gotten over the years, and will occassionally look at fanarts. Or you're one of those people who will not let the Archie comics go, you are still in denial - you are begging for Sally's return into the series and you're hoping now that Ian Flynn is writing for the games, that your dreams might just become a reality.

[merakiui]

we got how to pull jade and floyd.... now may we get how to pull azul?! (somehow I get the feeling it's going to be something like 'give him a crumb of positive attention' and he'll be hooked immediately)

My time has come. >:D I was waiting for this one. Jade's how-to can be found here. Floyd's how-to can be found here.

To pull Azul:

Break down his defenses. Azul is very suspicious of those who do things for the sake of actual kindness, and he's even more distrustful of people he isn't close with trying to get close to him. For the longest time, he'll be wary of you, holding you at a distance, treating you as an acquaintance and nothing more, only ever acting courteous. You won't know much about Azul because he is very selecting of what he'll say to you. Even something as simple as a 'good morning' is calculated. If you persist and make it clear that you genuinely want to be his friend, he'll gradually lower some of his defenses.

Give him support and occasional reminders that he's doing well. Azul lives for praise, but praise from your lips is by far the sweetest. Most of it might go to his head and it'll definitely feed his ego, but there are rare moments when he's caught off guard when you cheer for him. He's not used to having someone wish him well solely because they're his friend.

Speaking of friendship, don't insinuate leaving or breaking this relationship. That stresses him out immensely. The twins always tell him they're only staying by his side because he's interesting and that they'll leave once they're bored, and if you're with him for similar reasons it'll force him to try to be even more unpredictable and interesting in hopes that you'll stay. If you show him the genuine truth and assure him that you'll always be his friend, he'll feel so much relief.

Give him a reason to pursue you. If you're still stuck in that awkward not-quite-friends zone, there are a few ways to have Azul thinking about you. The most obvious is denying his offer for help or a contract granting your wish, which will have him thinking of ways to ensnare you if he's truly hellbent on getting you to sign one of his contracts. Give him a gift or do something nice for him, which will then have him agonizing over returning the favor because he cannot stand being indebted to anyone. Spend time with him outside of class. Whether you keep him company while he fills out paperwork, the two of you play a board game together, or you're simply visiting the lounge for a drink and to see him, the more time you spend with him the more you'll occupy his thoughts.

Stay with him. Your presence is so comforting for him. Even if neither of you talk while doing separate things, just knowing that you exist in the same room as him makes Azul feel a little less lonely. Azul will always welcome you into his VIP room whenever you drop by, and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys himself with you because you'll catch a rare slip in his façade, where he smiles a real, happy smile and his laughter is airy and pleasant, not at all sardonic or cruel.

And my personal favorite: When the two of you are close enough and Azul has grown to trust you, to the point where he considers you a close friend (or perhaps something more), tell him every part of him is beautiful. That includes the ink he writes with, that includes the octopus he hides away, that includes his introverted nature, and so on. Tell him the octopus is super cool and that you think having eight other limbs is absolutely amazing and he'll get a little more confident with each time he hears you say that.

Also also!!! Gently help him with his food issues. Azul deserves to enjoy his meals without worrying about the calories. He couldn't possibly say no to a meal if it was prepared by your loving hands. Slowly but surely provide support and assistance in hopes of gradually strengthening his bond with food.

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@the-bad-batch-baroness That whole table scene has me:

"I'm gonna teach you a new word," Wolffe smiles. "That is a di'kut."

Shit sibling behavior detected!

"Where's mommy?" she asks. || "She's not here, sweetie. Now, eat your breakfast for me." || "We can't eat without mommy," || "You have to eat. This isn't a debate." || "I don't want it!" she screams.

Let me just begin with apologizing over the fact that I don't think I can ever deny romanticizing pain and grief simply because it really does give me life. I have read and written so much angst (non SW) over the years that I have come to accept that if people see me as such then they clearly do not know me enough to judge.

You see how unhinged in all aspects, be it over finely written smut to slow burn angst and it'd be just me being a hypocrite saying I don't find bliss in it, because I do. I don't wish it on others, but if it happens and I get to witness it by reading or watching, it gives me that satisfaction of still being able to feel things.

The only thing I would probably complain about is the fact that it's short and quick. It's that quick rip of the band-aid but my, oh, my did that felt god.

The anguish of an innocent child going through motions of the spectrum; from unawareness, confusion, fear, angry, disappointment, to clinging to the next person she could trust and it not always being the remaining parent, to the honest disregard of what Wolffe may be going through because she doesn't "get it yet", to the natural heart of a child who is so willing to forgive even with things haven't settled in it.

Cause it hasn't. It has settled for the day. It has settled because Wolffe had his brothers over. It had settled because Cara doesn't feel alone yet. The alone feeling of having lost her mother; the mother that is usually there. Not saying Wolffe is an absent father and all.

But I love the apology part. The father who explains having learnt from a father who explains, (EYY PLO LEMME SUCK YO DI—-).

It's that motion, it's that glorious heartache willing to happen.

And then then the crumbs that settle for the day, until it blows up again:

"Daddy," Cara mumbles into his chest. Wolffe leans her back so he can see her face. "Yes, baby?" "Is mommy ever gonna come home?" she asks. Wolffe bites back his emotions. "No baby, she's not." "I'm gonna miss mommy," she sniffles and her eyes turn watery. Wolffe touches his forehead to Cara's and lets his own emotions show. "Me too, baby. Me too."

This is what I live for, it's that oh so sweet, sugary goodness of the after pain where the pain lingers. Where the 'what do we now' comes into play. Where the 'everything reminds me of them' and where everything I touch hurts. FEED ME.

This needed more words, Steph. Needs so much pain. But this is also why I haven't read this yet because I need the next installment — for my sanity!

Points for the anguish. DELICIOUS BREAKFAST.

Cara is also so well behaved and smart, so polite and mature. It gives you a nice peek at what Mommy was like and it's giving me that warmth. That warmth that she was undoubtedly Wolffe's choice. The implied talks with Plo regarding the situation that proves helpful when the first hell of it all broke lose also implies he'll be having more heart to heart talks with Plo — yes, sir, go get that therapy.

And then you see a little bit of Wolffe in Cara. The soft tears, how she's doing all her best to really be like daddy — be a little calmer like daddy,but you can also feel how she's so broken inside and how she's trying to still grasp the reality of it all.

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 6

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Sinker, Comet, Boost

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: Sorry about no fic last week. I had surgery on Friday and didn't get a chance to post the fic I wanted to post, so to stay on schedule, I'm forgoing that fic for another update of this one! Yay! This part is going to be tough, but it was absolutely necessary for Cara and Wolffe to have this moment together just as much as the bath time moment. Let's just say, breakfast doesn't go as planned. (oops it got longer) As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7

After bath time is done, and they've both dried off and changed into new clothes, it's time for breakfast. Wolffe really hopes his pack brothers came through and made a decent breakfast for all of them. He's starving, and he knows Cara must be hungry too. He is a little worried since he didn't give Boost any directions, but there's foodstuff in the conservator, he thinks, or, well, he hopes. Knowing his wife, she would've stocked up when she found out he was coming home.

Wolffe walks into the kitchen with Cara following behind, but stops in his tracks at what he sees.

"What in the…" Wolffe says as his eyes grow wide. It's a mess. A complete and utter mess. He's not even sure if this is still a kitchen. "I said make breakfast, not fight breakfast!"

"We did!" Boost grins.

"Sweetie," Wolffe says as he looks down at Cara. "Do you know what that is?" He points at Boost.

Cara shakes her head.

"I'm gonna teach you a new word," Wolffe smiles. "That is a di'kut."

"Dee… koot," she repeats.

"Hey!" Boost exclaims, clearly offended by the remark.

Wolffe snorts. "You're the one who said it's never too late to start."

Boost opens his mouth to argue, but then closes it because Wolffe is right.

"Anyway," Comet chimes in. "Breakfast is served!"

Wolffe sighs for what feels like the hundredth time this morning, and walks Cara over to the table to eat whatever breakfast his pack brothers created. She climbs up onto her chair next to him and he makes sure she gets seated properly so she doesn't fall off. Sinker then walks around the table and puts the plates down with their homemade pancakes on them. Wolffe eyes the oddly shaped and multi-colored pancakes suspiciously and raises a brow up at his brother.

"What?" Sinker asks.

"Is it edible?" Wolffe asks.

"I made them," Comet adds. "So, yes, they're edible."

Wolffe snorts. Of course Boost and Sinker couldn't be left alone to make breakfast. It's a good thing they picked up Comet when they did or they'd all have starved by now.

Cara tugs on Wolffe's pants and he lowers his head so he can hear her.

"Where's mommy?" she asks.

The room goes silent and Wolffe sighs. Not this again. "She's not here, sweetie," he answers, then pulls her plate a little closer to the edge of the table. "Now, eat your breakfast for me."

"We can't eat without mommy," Cara says, then pushes the plate back.

Wolffe bites back his frustration and pulls the plate towards her again. "You have to eat."

"Not without mommy!" she yells and pushes the plate with more force, knocking the fork on the floor.

"Cara," Wolffe warns, his patience wearing thin. "This isn't a debate."

"I don't want it!" she screams.

Cara climbs down from her chair, sits on the floor, and cries loudly. She's in a full-blown tantrum and Wolffe doesn't know what to do. He looks over at Comet, Boost, and Sinker with pleading eyes, but the three of them only shrug. Her screaming gets louder and pierces Wolffe straight through the head, making it throb and ache like earlier. Somehow she's reached a frequency that makes him want to scream too. He tries to keep himself under control and calm her down.

"Sweetie," Wolffe says as he rubs his temples. "I need you to stop screaming, please."

She continues to wail from her seat on the floor, tears streaming down her face as her cheeks turn red. Wolffe can feel the tension in his head rising as it threatens to boil over and explode. Why can't she just stop crying? Why can't she just understand? Why does he have to keep explaining it to her? He tries to think of his best options, but her incessant screaming is grating on his nerves. If she doesn't be quiet soon, the neighbors are going to think he's hurting her.

"Cara!" Wolffe barks. "I said stop!"

Cara stops crying and, for a moment, Wolffe thinks it's finally over.

"I want mommy!" she starts screaming again. "I want mommy! I want mommy! I want mommy!"

The tension snaps and Wolffe's chair scrapes across the floor as he violently pushes it back. He takes a few steps towards Cara, drops to his knees, and grabs her little shoulders so she'll look him in the eye. "She's not coming back!" he yells. "Do you understand me? She's never coming back! She's dead! She's gone! So, just stop it already!"

Wolffe pants and hangs his head between his arms, the anger and frustration slowly dissipating. The words he spoke so ferociously, not only to his daughter but also to himself, echo in his mind. He picks his head up and looks at his wide-eyed daughter, then feels a pain shoot through his heart. She looks confused. She looks helpless. She looks scared. She looks scared… of him. Remorse washes over him like a tidal wave and the panic of what he did floods his brain.

"Oh, kriff," Wolffe breathes as he releases his grip on her tiny shoulders. Cara backs away from him until she bumps into Comet's leg. Wolffe's breath hitches. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Baby–"

Wolffe reaches out his hand, but Cara turns and grabs onto Comet's leg.

Comet looks at Wolffe with a pained expression, then down at Cara, and sighs. "Come here, ad'ika," he soothes. "I've got you." He picks Cara up into his arms and she grabs onto his shirt with tight little fists while burying her face in his chest. He readjusts her on his hip, then locks eyes with Wolffe in a silent word. Wolffe hangs his head and Comet leaves the room with Cara. Once Cara is out of the kitchen, Wolffe pounds his fists onto the floor and yells in frustration.

Sinker kneels beside him and places his hand on Wolffe's shoulder.

"What have I done?" Wolffe chokes. He wants to vomit. "I grabbed her and I yelled at her. I've never… I wouldn't… How could I…"

Sinker looks up at Boost and gestures for him to go do something else. Boost nods and leaves the kitchen.

"Maker forgive me," Wolffe's voice quivers. "She's just a child, and I… I treated her like a cadet. Like a kriffing shiny!"

"Wolffe–"

"No!" Wolffe yells and smacks Sinker's hand away. "There's no excuse."

Sinker sighs and sits back on his haunches. "Give yourself a break, will ya? Your wife's dead."

Wolffe flinches at the bluntness of the comment, but maybe that's what he needs right now.

"Maker, Wolffe," Sinker continues. "It's only been what? Twelve standard hours? And in that time you've lost your wife, your home, your belongings, and you almost lost Cara too. You really thought you could get through this without losing your temper a little?"

"I'm a commander–"

"Kriff being a commander," Sinker says with an eye roll. He moves around the floor to face Wolffe. "You're still human, commander or not, and Cara doesn't need Commander Wolffe right now, she just needs her dad. You know, the one who loves her?"

"But I scared her…" Wolffe laments, the words burning in the back of his throat. "She was scared of me."

"She'll be fine," Sinker says with a wave of his hand. "Just apologize and move on. She's a tough kid. Tougher than you might think." Sinker smirks. "You are her dad after all."

A small smile forms at the corner of Wolffe's mouth. Sinker is right about one thing. She is the daughter of a clone commander, not just some random natborn off the streets. His genetics, and his wife's, run through her veins. She's sensitive like her mother, but she's got his resilience and also his attitude. Plo's words ring true. He needs to take each moment as it comes and do what's needed, even if that means messing it up once and a while. She'll forgive him one day.

Wolffe takes a deep breath to compose himself before Sinker offers a hand to help him up. He accepts it without complaint. Looking back at the table of untouched food, now getting cold, another sigh escapes his lips. Cara still hasn't eaten and he's not sure if they have any more time for delays since they have to leave soon. He decides to pack some of the pancakes in a container and hopes that Cara will eat them like that. It's not ideal, but it's better than nothing.

After putting the food away, Wolffe takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly before walking out of the kitchen and towards the living room. He steps to the threshold, and just as he thought, Comet is sitting on the couch with Cara on his lap. He'll never understand how Comet got so good with kids, but he's thankful. With slow and soft steps, Wolffe approaches them. He sits on the ground and fiddles with a piece of the carpet while he gets up the nerve to speak.

"Cara," Wolffe says softly.

Cara lifts her head from resting against Comet's chest to look at Wolffe.

"I'm sorry I got upset and yelled at you," he says. "It was wrong."

"It's okay…" she mumbles into Comet's shirt.

"No, baby, it's not," he continues. "I know… I know this is scary. Daddy is scared too, but that doesn't make it okay for either of us to get upset at each other." He pauses, gauging her expression and understanding of what he's saying. "So, how about less screaming and more listening, for both of us?"

"Okay," she says. "I'm sorry, daddy."

Wolffe smiles weakly and releases another shaky breath. He opens his arms. "Can I have a hug?"

Cara nods and squirms out of Comet's arms and into Wolffe's. He holds her tight against his chest, careful not to hurt her, and kisses the side of her head. He starts rocking her in place and looks up at Comet, who has a warm smile on his face. Wolffe mouths a simple thank you to him and Comet nods. Wolffe doesn't know what he would do without his pack brothers, and it pains his heart that it took a tragedy such as this for him to realize just how much they mean to him.

"Daddy," Cara mumbles into his chest.

Wolffe leans her back so he can see her face. "Yes, baby?"

"Is mommy ever gonna come home?" she asks.

Wolffe bites back his emotions. "No baby, she's not."

"I'm gonna miss mommy," she sniffles and her eyes turn watery.

Wolffe touches his forehead to Cara's and lets his own emotions show. "Me too, baby. Me too."

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7

Masterlist

AO3

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