#This is The End of the World with You's fault!

[renthony]

In Defense of Shitty Queer Art

Queer art has a long history of being censored and sidelined. In 1895, Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was used as evidence in the author’s sodomy trials. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the American Hays Code prohibited depictions of queerness in film, defining it as “sex perversion.” In 2020, the book Steven Universe: End of an Era by Chris McDonnell confirmed that Rebecca Sugar’s insistence on including a sapphic wedding in the show is what triggered its cancellation by Cartoon Network. According to the American Library Association, of the top ten most challenged books in 2023, seven were targeted for their queer content. Across time, place, and medium, queer art has been ruthlessly targeted by censors and protesters, and at times it seems there might be no end in sight.

So why, then, are queer spaces so viciously critical of queer art?

Name any piece of moderately-well-known queer media, and you can find immense, vitriolic discourse surrounding it. Audiences debate whether queer media is good representation, bad representation, or whether it’s otherwise too problematic to engage with. Artists are picked apart under a microscope to make sure their morals are pure enough and their identities queer enough. Every minor fault—real or perceived—is compiled in discourse dossiers and spread around online. Lines are drawn, and callout posts are made against those who get too close to “problematic art.”

Modern examples abound, such as the TV show Steven Universe, the video game Dream Daddy, or the webcomic Boyfriends, but it’s far from a new phenomenon. In his book Hi Honey, I’m Homo!, queer pop culture analyst Matt Baume writes about an example from the 1970s, where the ABC sitcom titled Soap was protested by homophobes and queer audiences alike—before a single episode of the show ever aired. Audiences didn’t wait to actually watch the show before passing judgment and writing protest letters.

After so many years starved for positive representation, it’s understandable for queer audiences to crave depictions where we’re treated well. It’s exhausting to only ever see the same tired gay tropes and subtext, and queer audiences deserve more. Yet the way to more, better, varied representation is not to insist on perfection. The pursuit of perfection is poison in art, and it’s no different when that art happens to be queer.

When the pool of queer art is so limited, it feels horrible when a piece of queer art doesn’t live up to expectations. Even if the representation is technically good, it’s disappointing to get excited for a queer story only for that story to underwhelm and frustrate you.

But the world needs that disappointing art. It needs mediocre art. It even needs the bad art. The world needs to reach a point where queer artists can fearlessly make a mess, because if queer artists can only strive for perfection, the less art they can make. They may eventually produce a masterpiece, but a single masterpiece is still a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of censorship. The only way to drown out bigotry and offensive stereotypes created by bigots is to allow queer artists the ability to experiment, learn through making mistakes, and represent their queer truth even if it clashes with someone else’s.

If queer artists aren’t allowed to make garbage, we can never make those masterpieces everyone craves. If queer artists are terrified at all times that their art will be targeted both by bigots and their own queer communities, queer art cannot thrive.

Let queer artists make shitty art. Let allies to queer people try their hand at representation, even if they miss the mark. Let queer art be messy, and let the artists screw up without fear of overblown retribution.

It’s the only way we’ll ever get more queer art.

_

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[bonefall]

Mapleshade Discourse O'Clock

It's that time again!!! SO I just kinda want to jot down all of my various thoughts about it as a story and just generally weigh in about Mapleshade.

I like the idea of Mapleshade more than the actual Mapleshade that is used throughout the books.

She has a really good gimmick-- to haunt Applekin though the generations. I don't like how they turn her into a generic "cat satan" for Tigerclaw's Fury and keep making her appear as a vain lackey demon.

I like her characterization in Mapleshade's Vengeance the most, of all her appearances.

But, I don't think my reading of the character depicted in MV is what the author intended.

See, I like MV as a story with no hero. The only blameless characters are the kittens who drowned and Perchpaw, while everyone else is some flavor of selfish, cruel, or vengeful. Everyone thinks they're in the right, but no one truly wins in the end.

Nothing about it was noble. Every tragedy that happened was utterly avoidable. In the end, everyone bears some responsibility for the pain and suffering that happened the day those children drowned.

BUT I'm pretty certain that the intended reading was that Mapleshade would be the one clearly in the wrong the whole time, as she justifies her own actions like a villain does.

Especially knowing how poorly the writers thought of similar female characters like Squilf and Leafp lying about the three, or Nightcloud being jealous her crummy husband is acting strange around another woman.

I feel justified in assuming that when Mapleshade is not happy she's being cheated on, or when she refuses to correct Frecklewish's record knowing it's unsafe if her kits are revealed as half clan, the writer really does think you're not supposed to take her side.

Because women should just not have emotions about being cheated on or something, and lying is unspeakably bad even if the truth puts you and your children in danger.

But. Y'know. We can all use the braincell for a moment and see that this is fucking stupid

SO when the book goes on to have Mapleshade ignore all the warnings about the swollen river, show both ThunderClan and RiverClan being obscenely cruel to her, and then walk across that bridge while insisting in her head that the deaths weren't her fault, I think the implication is obvious AND SHITTY.

Ergo I reject it completely. I can see what the book wants to say, and I think it says something trashy.

In spite of how badly the writer wants it to be Mapleshade's fault the kittens died, I say it was the asshole who threw a bunch of kittens out into the rain for being mixed race, actually.

Oakstar had the power here. Ravenwing had some power as well, but he makes it clear it wasn't his suggestion to throw the babies out into the woods.

And when it comes to Bridge Discourse, it was at least the afternoon, raining heavily, and Mapleshade was trying to get to RiverClan Camp. A straight shot across the stepping stones.

I think it is ridiculous to imagine an extremely emotional parent managing three very scared children, attempting to get out of the rain and dangerous wilderness before nightfall, would be rational enough to realize a large detour would be safer.

MAYBE the distance from ThunderClan Camp to the Bridge is equal to the distance to the Stones. But the distance between the bridge and RIVERCLAN Camp is longer.

I hope this goes without saying; but Frecklewish didn't deserve the Dark Forest.

Even in Banana World logic where she was sitting on the bank watching those kids doggy-paddle. Do not fucking jump in to save drowning people if you are not trained to do that.

I'm dead serious, this is the first thing you learn in any kind of water safety course. They WILL panic, you WILL get dragged down, you WILL become another liability someone else has to save instead of helping your initial target.

And that isn't even mentioning this being a flooded river. That's POOL safety.

In spite of how I think Mapleshade was right to lie, I do think Frecklewish being that upset and angry was understandable.

You're entitled to your feelings, but not how you treat people. She still attacked Mapleshade and called the kittens a slur.

That's what makes her interesting, though.

I don't think she deserves the Dark Forest, but Frecklewish's anger is an interesting trait. I don't like how a lot of defensive interpretations of her character end up downplaying how she acted at the exile

why does a woman being rightfully angry suddenly strike people as "unsympathetic." Girls can also say things in fury they don't fully mean. OR girls can rationalize their unjustified, ballistic response post-hoc out of pride.

Idk let girls be mad. Admit they were wrong without deserving HELL. I don't like the woobification impulse.

It's not really a hot take anymore I think, but Frecklewish is definitely only in the DF because the writing team judges women characters more harshly. Oakstar threw babies out in the rain in fury, and Ravenwing didn't stop it. But somehow only Frecklewish, a normal warrior, gets DF'd.

But what really rattles around in my head about the whole story is the way that the in-universe culture is able to suddenly value ethics like peace, forgiveness, and tolerance when MAPLESHADE is ready to throw those things out, but BEFORE then, it's well established that Clan culture is violent, vengeful, and intolerant.

One of our earliest scenes is Rainfall snarling at Mapleshade that he loves the way Birchface and Flowerpaw drowned. He's threatening that he'll kill even more ThunderClan warriors.

Over in ThunderClan, everyone is itching for revenge against Appledusk for those deaths, even though it seems to have been an accident. Oakstar even hates RiverClan well into sequel books for this.

But then later on, everyone acts Shocked Pikachu that Mapleshade actually went and GOT revenge.

And like, let's be real. This is a battle culture. Yes, by OUR standards Revenge Is Bad.

But in these books, so full of war and clan conflict...?

What I'm saying is that I wish the books let Mapleshade be a little more "controversial" in-universe. Like some cats actually frame the story very differently, and you can learn a lot about a person by who they think the hero is.

And how RiverClan responds to the drowned kids bugs me a lot tbh

We just established over in ThunderClan that there are people who think the babies were born filthy for being HalfClan.

We know everyone there stood by and watched as Oakstar threw them out into the rain-- only Ravenwing even seemed uncomfortable.

AND we know very well that in a few generations, TigerClan will rise. Which openly executed a HalfClan cat and wanted to kill 2 apprentices.

We KNOW the bigotry in Clan culture is deadly and unfair.

But then they go over to RiverClan and Darkstar is sad these three kids are dead? And RC is furious with Mapleshade for that?

Again, YES, you and me with OUR morals know that this bigotry is insane and spiteful. What I'm getting at is that IN-UNIVERSE half clan kittens and their parents face extreme discrimination. Even within this book.

It's odd to me that Darkstar refuses to let Mapleshade bury their bodies, sends her away for the death of the kids while saying it's "not the season for losing warriors" to Appledusk, and it's meant to come across as delusional that Maple thinks her babies were buried dishonorably

I wish more women in WC got so pissed off at the absolute injustice of it all that they went on a girl rampage. Perhaps it's my own taste, but I like it a lot more when the villain isn't entirely wrong and there's several angles you can read the story from. If she didn't do what she did, she would have been the only one who saw any consequences for anything that happened.

Anyway in conclusion uhhh idk murder is wrong. But Mapleshade's allowed to do it because she's a silly billy. Her greatest crime was not killing Oakstar also

[spacesodaa]

I stumbled across your albedo avalanche fic and fell in love with your writing! I saw your requests were open and wondered if you would be happy to write one with aventurine and afab reader with a shot of angst? Perhaps they are working together and his love gets hurt?

Thank you so much for your works, BTW! ❤️❤️

Aww tysm!! I really appreciate you liked my writing 🥹 I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you like this as much as I do!

Aventurine x Reader - Back To You

Characters: Aventurine, Reader (afab)

Summary: Aventurine makes a risky move during a trade with some bandits and you get hurt in the process.

Warnings: blood, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: not proofread lmao

Aventurine watched in horror as you dove in front of him, catching the dart in his stead. He had calculated that provoking his possible business partners coult result in violence, but apparently he was horrible at math because never in a million years would he have expected you to take the shot for him. Not because he didn't think you would be apathetic to dire situations, but because he didn't think he was worth the trouble.

That was a reoccurring theme in your relationship, you have always had to remind him he was worth every effort you put in, even though his convictions were hard to break.

Aventurine deftly caught you before you could hit the rocky floor of the cave. It had been a risky move to meet the group of men in an isolated place like this, but again he had failed to take into account you had insisted to go with him and it wouldn't have been just his sorry ass to end in trouble.

The men grinned at him, seemingly satisfied with the result of their actions.

"This serves as your warning. You better lower your head sigonian trash" one of them said, before they all turned their backs on him and exited the cave. Another one of the men stopped right in front of the entrance and flashed him a toothy smile, waving. He pressed a button, causing a large rumble to erupt from right above the entrance. A cascade of rocks descended loudly, blocking the only exit.

Aventurine sat there stunned. It was clear to him now, that their intent was never really to negotiate, but to hurt him. Either directly or indirectly. If only he had insisted to go alone, you wouldn't have been in his arms progressively going limp. Only god knew what the hell was in the dart you had been shot with, so he quickly pulled it out from your belly, leaving an unhealthy purplish entry wound.

He shifted you in his grip and lowered to the ground with you. He sincerely hoped his phone would work in such a remote place. He fished it from his pocket, quickly typing the password, only to realize the rocks blocked whatever flimsy signal could reach this remote place. There were in fact, no bars in the signal indicator.

"Damn it" he muttered.

"Kakavasha..." He almost jumped out of his own skin at the sound of your voice. Aventurine brought you closer to his chest, your forehead burned against the exposed skin of his neck.

"Yes?" He hesitantly answered.

"It's not your fault" always straight to the point you were, piercing through the ungodly amount of walls he had built and reading past the facade.

"You shouldn't have jumped in front of me" Aventurine replied "what if that was a real gun and not a dart one?"

"And let you...get poisoned...?" Your words were starting to get lower, your gaze struggling to focus on anything.

"Yes! I provoked them! I miscalculated everything!" You could feel his hands shake as he held you.

"So...you must...pay the price...yeah no" you smiled bitterly, although your lips felt numb.

"It should have been my life in the gamble, not yours" he said in a defeated tone "I don't deserve you throwing yours away for me" the last part was muttered, but you heard it nonetheless.

"But you do...and the choice...is mine" you tried to say it as determined as you could muster. If the world was going to shit you would throw it away to save him in a matter of seconds. No questions asked.

The blonde man couldn't utter another word, just as you couldn't convince him to have some self worth, he couldn't convince you to give up on him. You were ride or die and he couldn't change that, maybe that was for the best. You had enough love to love him for himself too.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and held onto you for dear life, as if it could cure you and you could keep rising next to him in the morning. What would he do if he lost you? He would lose everything once again, because as much as he didn't want to admit it to others, you were his everything.

He was scared, terrified you would draw your last breath any minute now. You didn't seem to be in pain, but you did look miserable. Your breaths were shallow and your skin was burning and covered in sweat as your body shook slightly.

Aventurine could only hope someone would notice you were gone - who would even notice a sigonian was missing? Maybe Topaz? - and come looking for you. At least he had had the good sense to leave your meeting location with Topaz.

He waited and waited, watching you slip away as the time passed. You had long lost consciousness and he could barely feel your shallow breaths against his neck.

"Please don't go..." He pleaded, eyes burning.

Your body felt numb, with a weird fuzziness in the background. It was similar to those old cathodic tube screens when no signal was available. A new type of 'annoying' you wished you hadn't learned existed.

With a bit of effort you managed to open your eyes and you were met with an unfamiliar room, dimly lit. It had white walls and some cabinets against the wall in front of you. To your left was a window with blinds obscured but you could see some light spill through the cracks. On the same side, right next to the bed were an IV bag (that you quickly realized was stuck in your arm) and a bunch of monitors beeping along with your heartbeat. Finally your eyes landed to your right, where Aventurine sat on a chair. He was leaning on the mattress of the bed you were on, head on his arms, hair completely disheveled shooting in every direction. Contrary to what one would expect from being in such a position, he was fast asleep. Even when you scooted a bit to sit up he didn't move an inch, which would have been normal if you were to be at home, but the room liked like one from a private hospital. To be this heavily asleep he must have been exhausted.

You reached your hand and gently smoothed over the rebellious locks, before switching to bushing your fingers through them as delicately as you could as to not wake him.

This was a rare sight, making you equal parts upset that you had caused it and in awe at the display of vulnerability. Most of the time he was wide awake before you so this was one of the few times you were able to watch him sleep.

The door opened slowly, revealing Topaz poking her head in. You smiled, waved at her followed by a quick gesture to keep quiet then pointing to your sleeping boyfriend.

She nodded and fully entered the room, closing the door behind her right after.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered once she was standing at your left, eyeing curiously Aventurine.

"Weird. Fuzzy?" You attempted, keeping your voice low. Which wasn't that hard because your throat was dry as hell so you couldn't talk as loud even if you tried.

"Yeah, we were told to expect something like this. The poison they used on you progressively numbs the body. We were lucky you were still breathing when I finally got to you two" she explained.

"I remember the dart. What happened after?" You asked, still petting Aventurine's hair.

"I don't know the details, but I found you two stuck in a cave and Aventurine was clutching onto you for dear life" Topaz said "I don't think I've ever seen him that terrified.

You frowned, knowing what you did, it was not hard to deduce his line of thought. He had lost so much and he had almost lost you.

If you hadn't jumped in front of him, it would have been him in your conditions and you couldn't bear the thought of that either.

"What did you guys end up doing with those 'clients'?"

"You mean the ones you two were meeting?" You hummed in response "I have no idea, Aven dealt with them a few days ago"

"Wait- a few days ago? How long have I been aslep??"

"About a week. I have never seen him leave this room more than a few minutes" she pointed to the man, who was still blissfully unaware. No wonder he was sleeping like a log.

Suddenly her phone started ringing and both of you cringed at the loud sound. Topaz quickly answered it and bolted out of the room.

The loud ringtone seemed to have been enough to disturb your boyfriend's sleep, as he let out a raspy groan in protest. You brushed his bangs away from his face and that got his attention. His head shot up, meeting your soft gaze and endearing smile.

"Y/n?" He asked, as if he couldn't believe you were there.

"Yes baby, I came back to you" he barely let you finish speaking before he bolted out of the chair to engulf you into an emotionally charged hug, a hand behind your shoulders and the other buried in your hair at the base of your neck.

"...I thought I had lost you for good" he muttered shakily "you wouldn't wake up..."

"I'm sorry to have worried you so much" you frowned, the conflictint feelings coming back full force.

"But you're going to do it again, aren't you?" He said it in a tone that was half amused and half utterly exasperated.

"Without a second thought. As much as you refuse to believe it, to me you're the world" you replied, gently prying him away from you to look at his face. You cupped his cheeks and watched intently as if you were trying to commit every detail to memory. Aventurine was simply lost in your eyes as you did, thinking of how a few hours ago he had thought he would never see them again.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, which he welcomed readily.

"Baby, you are so pale" you said, worried.

"Am I?" He cocked his head slightly "I haven't slept a wink aside from before" he chuckled, but it sounded tired. Now that he knew you were going to be okay the exhaustion was starting to take over once again.

"Why don't you cuddle with me? You can sleep and hold onto me, I won't go anywere" you smiled softly at him as you pulled him down onto the mattress with you. It didn't really take that much coaxing and soon he had his face buried into your plump chest as he held you from your middle.

"I love you" he muttered before falling asleep.

"I love you too"

[robitherat]

Thinking about the fact that most of Tims character arch is based around him actually dealing with the things from his past

Like a major part of tims character is his denial of the things that happened to him-- his repression of memories, chalking things up to hallucinations, suffering in silence, brushing off any concern from those around him ("Tim what's that?" "Just some medicine I need to take" "Are you sick, do you need to go home?" "No I'm fine.") The fact that he never mentioned his medical history or his time at the hospital to Jay until he was basically forced to.

And what was it that finally made him tell Jay about the hospital? The operator directly attacking him and making him relive scenes from his past. It wasn't until he was forced to realize what was at stake, forced to essentially confront the danger he was in by bottling up his past, that he willingly (at least somewhat) shared that information with someone. I do like to think that maybe Tim opened up to Brian in college, but as far as cannon evidence, we only really see Tim willingly talking to Jay about it. Brian knew, sure, but it's just as easy to assume he found that after the fact-- that he caught Tim in the lie, rather than Tim telling him outright.

And Tim really isn't a great liar, either. Like I know we talk about Jay being a little bit of an idiot (rightfully so) but Tim's main course of lying is. The most obvious deflection in the world. When Jay mentions the tape in his house, Tim's response is to immediately deflect ("I'm a little more worried about my house right now.") which would be a smaller thing if Tim wasn't intimately aware of how important it was to find and watch any tapes they possibly could. Tim's only method to coping with things that happen to him and the people around him is through denial, even in times when it would be infinitely more beneficial to acknowledge the issue at hand.

What's even more interesting to me is that Tim is seemingly the only character that makes any genuine progress in fighting against the operator. But that comes with the caveat that Tim is only able to do so when he actually confronts the operator, and by association, the issues of his past.

The only way he and Jay are able to make amends and move on is by Tim telling Jay about the hospital, which was only spurred on by Tim being forced to relive his trauma. Right after Tim tells Jay to stay out his life, he (by force of tta) has a relapse and ends up paired with Jay anyways. The only way he's able to get Jay and himself away from Alex's house in one piece is by literally physically standing up to the operator. In the fight against Alex, the whole time he's being ported around, he is monologuing about his past-- he's finally acknowledging the things that happened to him, that they weren't his fault, that they affect other people, and that violence isn't the answer to dealing with them-- that isolating yourself and denying the truth of what's happening isn't the answer.

And of course this is all tied back to the metaphor of mental illness: the fact that you cannot deny the things that have happened to you if you have any hope of moving on from them. you can't lash out or harm others because of your trauma if you have any hope of moving past it. The reason Jay, Brian, and ultimately Alex all died is because they were incapable of facing their issues head on; they all turned to anger, isolation, violence, and otherwise feeding into what the operator wanted, or alternatively, feeding into the misery spiral of their mental illness, rather than finding healthy coping mechanisms to heal from and move on from it.

God I need to write a full analysis essay about him OKAY I'm ending it here these aren't all my thoughts this doesn't make sense but I'm ending it here thank you for watching goodbye

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Head Canon:

Mine Mine Mine

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Childhood Fem Reader

TW: Jealousy, murder (mention), delusional behavior, power imbalance, yandere behavior, etc.

Aged Up Character. They’re in their mid 20s

Hanayama could remember the day two of you first met. It was in the springtime after his mother had passed away, a difficult time for him that made him nearly empty inside. A time where you, a foreigner, had extended your hand to him with a smile. A small gesture of kindness that scorched itself into his memory for all eternity. This insignificant moment to you, was the start of your love story with him. A foreign exchange student turned violinist and the future leader of the Hanayama group.

Your friendship was originally onesided but Hanayama began to open up to you when he noticed how you didn’t have ulterior motives. You were incredibly naive and kind to a fault. You fascinated him with how oblivious to the world you were. You were innocent like a lamb.

In the early months of your friendship with him, you often brought him homemade lunches with the recent math homework notes (since he struggled with math). You’d often chatter beside him as he silently sat beside you. Hanayana was at first confused by your mannerisms but the more he watched you, the more he understood.

You were the sun while he was the moon. You were a bright warm light that made everything burst to life with a glance while others didn’t often seek out his. Yet you selflessly shared your light with him which made him slowly open up to you. You never excluded him from any of the invitations you’d give to together classmates, which often ended up causing just you and Hanayama to hang out alone.

Hanayama wasn’t sure when his crush on you grew into something more, but he knew he loved you. Hanayama Kaoru loved you so much that he was obsessed with you. He’d get in the way of any potential romance you could have with anyone because in his mind, you belonged to him.

The two of you were a couple. You two went on dates (his classmates didn’t want to be involved with a yakuza)! You’d play your violin for him while he’d watch you like a hawk with the smallest hint to a smile on his scarred lips. That was just the way your relationship was… Hanayama was your protective shadow while you were his shining star.

As the two of you grew older and he became busier once he became head of the family and you grew traction as a violinist, the two of you drifted apart a bit. A fact Hanayama hated. He hated the paperwork and constant ‘business meetings’ he had to go to. It was frustrating that he wasn’t able to be around you. You’re his beloved partner, his future wife.

So Hanayana turned to Kizaki for advice on how to make up for his absence. His right hand man happily suggested gift giving to make up for his lack of a physical presence in your life. And Hanayama nodded his head. You had often said you enjoyed flowers… how about a bouquet of roses?

It started with one bouquet of ruby red roses and that was the start of his swarm of gifts. Hanayama felt his breath hitch at the bright smile on your face at receiving the roses. How your eyes crinkled with delight as you thanked him for the gift. He didn’t know you’d be so thrilled to receive such a small bouquet of roses… would you want more than those ones?

The bouquets become bigger each week. Redder, fuller, and more fragrant. But soon that wasn’t enough for him to see your smiles over flowers. No. Hanayama should buy you jewelry. Necklaces and bracelets from famous jewelers all across the world for his beautiful violinist!

Yet you’d always smile at him and tell him his company was enough. Hanayama couldn’t believe how sweet you were… it only made him want to spoil you more.

Whenever he’d have free time, he’d sneak off to see your orchestra shows. He was your number one fan, the first one you ever had… Hanayama enjoyed seeing how you’d light up the room in awe at your musical talent… until he noticed how chummy one of the bassist in the orchestra started to become with you. You weren’t cheating on Hanayama were you? He really didn’t want get his hands dirty…

You’d always run to his side whenever your shows ended as you thanked him for coming. Your cute smile and flushed cheeks always made his heart flutter… until the face of that bassist snuck into his mind. Should he ask you about that guy? No… you were his.

Hanayama started to grow busier once more but his paranoia about the other man didn’t lessen. No, it intensified due to his absence in your life. Hanayama felt physically ill at the idea of you being with anyone other than him. You were his love. His light. If someone tried to take you away, he’d lose his mind.

So he began to send a few of his men to watch over you… for his own peace of mind (to stalk you). It was just to ease the jealousy that seeped into his heart. That’s all… until they reported how the bassist often seemed to make you uncomfortable. Turns out he was the son of the composer so he often got away with harassing you… and that wasn’t going to fly with Hanayama. No one messed with Hanayama’s woman and got away with it.

It wasn’t hard to capture that man and give him a slow, agonizing death for making you cry, but his involvement made life more difficult for you. He noticed how your solos lessened in the orchestra despite how you were significantly more talented than the other musicians. He hadn’t realized the disappearance of the son would be blamed on you… Hanayama hadn’t meant to make your life harder!

And that’s when an epiphany hit him. Why don’t you just marry him now? You’d live a comfortable and safe life where you could play your violin as much as you wanted! Wouldn’t that be lovely?

Hanayama planned out the perfect proposal for you! One where he had even picked out a dress for you and booked out a restaurant… But when the day came around for him to fetch you, he was shocked that you were a bit frightened by this loud action of love. Did you not like this establishment? Or the clothes? Hanayama could always get you something different!

You shake your head and reassure him, but he still is upset by your lack of interest in this date. Perhaps red would have suited your taste more than black? Or was the restaurant too upscale for your taste? Hanayama would do better next time!

Hanayama is so worried when you tremble before him like a frightened rabbit. His large hand held your small one in his as his eyes softened at you.

“Why are you shaking so much?” Hanayama softly asked, his deep voice barely above a whisper. “Is it too cold in here?”

You sniffle a bit as a few tears fall down your face. “People said you might have done something to Yuki… but you didn’t, right?”

Ah. You wanted reassurance about that man’s disappearance. How kind of you… but you had no need to worry.

“I only ever do anything if it’s in your best interest.” Hanayama gave you a soft smile, one that was specifically reserved for you. He reached his free hand over so his fingers could wipe away your tears. “Your happiness is my number one priority.”

You nodded your head as you leaned into his touch. An action that made a delighted shiver run down Hanayama’s spine.

“You always do so much for me, Kaoru.” Hanayama loved that you called him by his first name. You were the only person in this world that was allowed to do that. “I just feel so bad… is there anything I can do for you?”

Hanayama gave you a sweet smile as he moved his hands away from your form. His right hand reached into his suit jacket to pull out a small black box. Your eyes widened in shock when Hanayama went down on one knee beside you.

Hanayama opened the box to reveal a dazzling diamond ring that no doubt cost a kidney on the black market. His smile never left his scarred face as he stated to you in a stern voice, “Marry me. Marry me and you’ll never have a worry in the world again. Say that you’ll be mine and no one else’s.”

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: jeonghan x you

Requested: yes [Can you please write something angsty for prince DK? Or if this is too vague, what do you think about a bet au with Jeonghan?] [By anon]

Genre: angst, coworkers to lovers, fluff, fuckboy au, opposites au, bet au

Warning(s): misogyny, jeonghan is an asshole and so is seungcheol, [if you find more pls inform ]

Summary: Jeonghan had plans on never talking to the quite coworker they hired, but like doesn't always pan out the way we want to. But when you add money to the problem, plus both your feelings, you have the perfect recipe for disaster.

Word count: 5.2k

Other works

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus, if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.

a/n 2: i hope it was what you wanted, thanks for the ask btw!

Everyone at the office knew that Jeonghan was a free spirit, he worked hard and partied even harder. He like living his life in the most happening way possible. Be it weekend trips, bike trips to the mountains or staying in the countryside for a week and working remote while enjoying the serenity that comes with it, he was down for anything.

Funnily enough he was referred to as the least energetic person in his friend group. So, one can imagine overzealous they normally were.

His work more often than not was impeccable, no one could fault him at all. The rising star of the corporate world they called him at the office. In his five years at the job the man had garnered more approval than anyone else.

He liked his life, and he would not trade it for anything else.

Now, unlike Jeonghan you resided on the other side of the spectrum. Your kind of life was pretty monotonous waking up before your alarm, making your bed, skipping meals, and surviving on coffee, reaching, and leaving work on the dot and crying while rewatching your favorite shows, was your kind of life. You like staying in during the weekends and cleaning up the mess you make in your living space during the weekdays and trying everything in your power to not upset your cat while doing so.

Its calm, chill, maybe a bit boring but it worked for you and brought you peace.

You were the newest recruit in your office and from the first day you captured the attention of most of your coworkers for your meticulous and polite words.

More often than not you refuse to talk to your coworkers ensuring that there stays a professional boundary between you all and if they would not catch onto your behavior, you would politely decline them.

Never that interested in networking, you refuse to talk to more people than you need to.

Jeonghan caught onto it pretty early, but why did it matter to him what you did, so like everyone else he went on his own way and simply chose to ignore you.

Ten months into your new job was when you first had a real conversation with the man. It was pretty late at night, both of you had to stay back for overtime. That was when you saw him struggling with his presentation for the next day’s meeting.

That day you broke the ‘no talking to my coworkers rule unless and until it’s very important’ rule.

“what’s the problem?” you politely asked the man.

“Oh, I am having slight problem with the numbers here,” the man replies looking visibly confused and surprised.

“If you want, I can help you out” you kindly stated as Jeonghan casually just turned his laptop towards you.

So, for the next one and half hours you both sat there and diligently worked on the presentation and by the end of it the material looked rather good and presentation worthy.

Looking extremely grateful the pretty man said, “I am so thankful you helped me out today, so why don’t I repay you by dropping you off at your house, it’s pretty late you know.”

Looking at your watch you politely replied, “no worries, plus if I rush a bit, I can catch the last bus home so please don’t bother.”

Jeonghan looked bummed at this, but he was obliged nonetheless as he knew you to be an introverted lady and he did not want to make you uncomfortable.

--

The next time you and Jeonghan had a conversation, was again at a night when you both were staying at the office over time. By this time, you have become pretty comfortable with each other, not enough to hold a conversation but enough to spare a quick nod and a smile while passing by each other’s cubicles.

He was done with the day’s work and was about to leave the office when he noticed you hunched over your laptop looking frustratingly at your screen which showed you an open excel sheet with infinite numbers.

Feeling like he owed you the help, Jeonghan strode towards you and calmly said “let me see.”

Jumping in shock you looked at him and replied, “oh no don’t bother I can figure it out you should go home it’s pretty late you know.”

Tsking at your reply he grabbed a chair to sit beside you while saying “it’s only fair, you helped me out so I should help you now.”

You let him, in actuality you needed that little help from him, the data entries were annoying you and you absolutely did not like it one bit.

Just like that time passed by again resulting in the clock to show that it was quarter past one by the time you both were done.

This time though Jeonghan shut down all your protests to go about his own way and your reluctance to inconvenience him with a simple “it’s pretty late and I won’t let you get followed by some creeps on the road plus the last bus is gone anyways so you are coming with me.”

On the way he stopped at a convenience store to get some dinner for you both and you devoured your ramen while chatting with him.

You both were pretty similar, in some cases for example you both had this extreme love for Legos that existed beyond measurable amounts, both of you loved your pets to death, albeit his was a rock and yours was a cat, but as he said “we don’t discriminate peoples pets here, they can have what they want to but given its legal and safe for the pet.”

On the other hand, Jeonghan liked you too, he was happy he could be the first one to break your shell to meet the real you and he was proud of this. It was close to an achievement for him.

--

“Han like this new chick in his office.”

Joshua loudly announced to the group of boys sprawled in his living room one evening. Jeonghan’s friends had come to his house to hang out and to get drunk out of their wits to forget the stress of the tedious weekend they had. They were all friends from college, now working jobs in the most contrasting industries ever like Seungcheol was the manager for their states football club and Soonyoung was a choreographer working with famous celebrities, Hansol on the other hand was the proud of a pet shelter and the one and only Joshua was an English history professor who most days worked overtime at the university. But at the end of the day, they were all the loud and obnoxious assholes he knew and loved from his younger days, and nothing could compare to that.

“Really you never told us about this one hyung?” Mingyu enquires.

“Nah she is just a new hire at the office, does not like talking to people at all. She is more antisocial than Wonwoo’s ass.”

“Really now, antisocial?” Seungcheol enquires, not missing Jeonghan’s defensive tone.

“Yes, Cheol antisocial, plus I don’t even know her enough,” the male says while rolling his eyes at his friends interest with you.

“Maybe you could talk to her and get her out of her shell, you are a pretty good mediator in our group I think you could do that,” pipes up the ever so benevolent Seokmin.

“Yes, you could,” Seungcheol joins him smirking a bit.

Now thoroughly annoyed Jeonghan exclaims “no I cannot. The only way someone can get that stuck up bitch out of her shell will be fucking her or something and I do not want to do so!”

“What if I pay you, will you do it then,” Seungcheol says still smirking.

“Do what?”

“Fuck her enough to get her out of her shell.”

The whole room goes silent at that statement.

“Hyung, I don’t think it’s right,” the youngest of them, Chan, suddenly speaks.

“Yes, its morally incorrect man,” Jeonghan agrees.

“I will pay you, plus life is pretty boring. This will give us something to talk about for at least the next year,” the oldest explains still smiling a bit.

“I agree with the others, its emotionally taxing and nothing good will come out of doing something like this man, plus what are we teenagers making bets about emotionally harming others?” Joshua says.

“Jeonghan, you do it and I will give you a thousand bucks,” the oldest says calmly. At the same time all the men in the room let out an exasperated sigh, knowing there is no winning with this stubborn man, while hoping silently that Jeonghan does not succumb to the greed.

But alas they were wrong, so wrong. An amount that lucrative will only be passed by a fool and Jeonghan was no such thing. He stood up from his place at the loveseat and confidently strode over to Seungcheol.

“You better keep your fucking word,” he says while shaking the older man’s hand.

While Seungcheol smiles and says, “you know what you complete the bet within the next six month I’ll give you a five thousand and if you don’t end up doing it, you gotta pay me pal.”

--

After that evening with his friends, Jeonghan was pretty stressed, because why should he not be? Making you sleep with him is hard enough, but making a situationship out of it sounds even harder. Now he thoroughly regrets accepting the bet.

You on the other hand are pretty happy and quiet as you often are. Very much unaware of his internal turmoil, as you keep talking excitedly about the new Lego death star you bought.

Yes, you and Jeonghan have bonded quite a bit these past few days, he likes spending time with you too, and so do you. It is a nice and comfortable friendship you both have built, and you like it.

“Why don’t you let me come to your place this weekend, and we can build the set together. We can get takeout later too,” he suddenly speaks up shocking you with such forward proposition.

“Well only if you want to though no pressure, it’s just that I really wanted to build the death star and was planning to buy it but like couldn’t make enough time to do –”

“Sure, you can come,” you speak up stopping his nervous rant.

“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asks just to make sure he heard it correctly.

“Yes, I am, it will be fun to build the Lego set together,” you say smiling.

“Yes, it would be, but like are you really sure,” he says again to make sure he is really not hard at hearing.

“Jeonghan if you ask me once again, I will take back what I just said.”

This makes him stop talking at all and he proceeds to show you his beautiful smile, making you feel a bit giddy inside.

“So, I will come this Saturday and we shall make the death star cuz we can,” he sings, making you bark out a laugh at him.

Little do you know you just poured a cool bucket of water on the burning flames on anxiety inside Jeonghan’s brain and he is extremely happy about that.

--

The next Saturday comes rolls in slowly, the tedious and boring week is over, and it is time for self-care and a lot of friendship building activities or that’s what you thought.

The man was mad and when you say mad you mean it. The Lego making only lasted for like two hours before he had hidden all the pieces of the part that you were making, resulting you to search for them all over the house. Moreover, after diligently searching and finding nothing, you had given up when he had produced all those pieces from his pockets shocking you to the core.

This little stunt had made you force him to pay for the takeout and when you were both fed and watered, he had proposed a game of chess. Only problem, you never knew one could cheat in this game too. He moved the pieces wrong.

Result. You both had the pettiest fight ever wherein the man with all his might tried to convince you that the rook was indeed supposed to move diagonally.

“You don’t understand, that is how the game is played. Are you sure you ever played this before?” he had asked.

“Hani you are wrong, please the rook never in its whole life moved diagonally, it always moved straight.”

“Maybe that is what your problem is, you are so uptight, you refuse to accept the differences in our opinions!”

“Oh, now I'm uptight, you are only being this difficult cuz you are losing!”

“I wouldn’t if you let me play the rook diagonally.”

“But that is not how it is played! Why don’t you—"

All your rants stop just like that, it took you at least five business days to actually realize that Jeonghan had kissed you. But once you got over that shock, you closed your eyes and moved your lips along with his.

Jeonghan, thoroughly exasperated by your intense argument, impulsively sought to quiet you by placing a soft, lingering kiss on your plump lips. Almost immediately, regret washed over him as he feared he had acted rashly at the worst possible moment. Mentally preparing to distance himself from you for the rest of your time together, he was taken aback when you reciprocated the kiss, instantly dissolving all his worries and leaving him pleasantly surprised.

You broke the kiss to take a breath, both looking visibly flustered.

“Do you want to stay the night, or do you want to go?” you asked him while looking at him with your sparkling eyes, making Jeonghan want to glue his ass to your house, but he being the gentleman he was declined the offer.

“I would really like to take you out on a date. As I really like you, so I won’t spoil my chances with you by staying tonight.”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You always thought of the man to be a Casanova, so the idea of him taking you on a date while simultaneously insinuating that he won’t take any harsh steps with you was a nice little change and you were all for it.

--

It was all smooth sailing after that.

Jeonghan took you to an amusement park for the date next Sunday and oh boy did you enjoy yourself to the fullest.

Both of you had the time of your lives. Making sure to go on every ride, play every game and eating every junk you found there. By the end of it you were visibly exhausted and elated with how the day went.

The following day you were visibly happier in the office and even had a small conversation with one of your coworkers.

This went on for the following month, with each and every date you opened up to Jeonghan more and more, and so did he.

He loved spending time with you and vice versa. It was during your regular Friday movie nights, a ritual you both had established as you both liked watching movies and bonded while talking about them, when Jeonghan absolutely bored with the movie scooted a bit too close to you in hopes of gaining your attention by annoying you, a typical Jeonghan move. When you both ended up making love on the couch.

This was only the start of a lot of escapades you would have with the man.

After that one night, Jeonghan was all over you at all times. Be it at the office or be it at home he was with you or texting you all the time. Your nights were now filled with heavy make outs and intense love making sessions.

Everybody at the office knew about you both. On top of that you were more extroverted than ever. You even went out with your coworkers for an office dinner. Somehow, Jeonghan was praised for the change he brought in you, and like his ‘kind’ self, he declined all those compliments with a gracious smile.

He didn’t like to say it out loud, but he liked your changed self, more than your reserved one. Plus, he also took credit for the change, but it’s not like he would tell you that anytime soon.

--

 It was almost five months into dating Jeonghan, when he asked you to meet his friends. You knew he had a very loyal group of friends and you had never met them before. On the contrary Jeonghan had met your one and only best friend within only three months of dating. In the most best friend manner, the lady has hated his ass the whole-time side eyeing him constantly and leaving petty remarks here and there. But that night she had called you and told you something she didn’t ever say for any of your boyfriends “I can see he loves you a lot. For the first time you chose the correct guy.”

Getting your strict best friend to like Jeonghan was like clearing the first hurdle of your relation. For the first time, you were proud of your choice in men and especially your boyfriend.

“Oh, I would love to meet them, but would they like me,” you were rightfully concerned about the boys liking you. As much as you were independent, you would like to gain the approval of your boyfriend’s friends like any girlfriend.

“They are dorks through and through, they will love, don’t worry” he had said while kissing your forehead to calm you down.

“Plus, you will fit right in, they are nice people,” he later added.

--

That evening, Jeonghan had taken you to the Korean BBQ place downtown where they all were meeting. The night had started rocky but within an hour you were having fun with Mingyu and Seokmin, all worries forgotten. Jeonghan had looked at you with pride blooming in his chest with how happy you looked with his friends, enjoying yourself.

It seems that all the twelve of them had liked you a lot saying you were the perfect partner for Jeonghan, someone who could ground him at the same time let him be himself.

The BBQ party came to an end, but the boys still had a lot of energy, so they went to the karaoke next taking both you and Jeonghan with them. Although you were thoroughly exhausted, you had complied to go, seeing Jeonghan have so much fun was a sight you didn’t want to miss.

You had gone to the bathroom the first thing right after reaching the karaoke place, to wake you up and also to do your business. Seungkwan had accompanied you claiming, “all that soju and walking has made my bladder shake like never before!” it’s not a lie though, they did drink like it will be the last time they ever get to drink.

As you came out of the restroom, Seungkwan gave you a kind smile and said “I have never seen Jeonghan this happy before, not even with us. I'm sure he likes you a lot.”

Smiling at him you said, “I think I love him; I have not said that to him yet, but I really think I do.”

With a sassy ‘good for you’ from the one and only Boo, you both made your way to the room that your group had booked.

As you reached closer, you could hear all the boys talking to each other.

“I approve, she is an angel, she even consoled Soon when he cried” said one of them making you smile a bit. By this time Seungkwan had stopped with you too eavesdropping on his friends as he is as dramatic as one can be.

“She is nothing like what you described her to be you know, she is nice and kind and far from being stuck up,” someone else said.

“Nah she is not, that stuck up once you get to know her, contrary to that she is very cheery and I like her you know,” Jeonghan had replied making you feel extra giddy inside.

“Hey bro if you like her that much maybe we should call off the deal we made, I see how much you like her and if you ask me, I will say she is a keeper,” with this statement, a silence washed over the whole group. You looked at Seungkwan to understand what was happening, but the man refused to look at you still stubbornly pretending to listen to the conversation.

“I said I like her, not like her enough to let go of the five thousand you offered” you suddenly heard Jeonghan speak making you even more confused about the whole ordeal.

“I think you will regret it you let her go hyung,” Seokmin suddenly said with a very somber tone generating a lot of assertive noises from the group.

“She won’t bring me five thousand, plus I fucked her got into a relationship with her and made her the fun-loving bitch she is now. It was a tedious process, but I completed my work, so I deserve the money.”

It was hard hearing the man you loved so much make such a degrading comment. At this point you were shaking with emotions so much that even Seungkwan who refused to look at you during this whole time, had to hold you steady.

“Did you know about this,” you asked him.

The boy with his eyes downcast just nodded his head.

“I won’t even ask you why you didn’t tell me about it, I get it you are his friend makes sense.”

“Hey none of us wanted him to do anything like this, but your Jeonghan is unstoppable sometimes and about the wrong things.”

“I think I should get going, I’ve heard enough.”

“Hey y/n we like you a lot, so please stay in contact with us later, no matter what your verdict is,” the younger man pleaded with glistening eyes, making you almost accept the request out of pity.

You ignored everyone and strode into the room bustling with men, heading straight for the couch. Without hesitation, you grabbed your bag and, as you walked out, approached Jeonghan and delivered a firm slap to his face. "We're done," you declared before exiting the room without glancing at anyone else.

--

The minute you had left, Jeonghan felt his life crashing down on him. The looks of disapproval from his friends and the pure disappointment that radiated off you caught him off guard. He had thought he could get out of it with both the girl and the money, but suddenly he realized he didn’t even need the said money, he only needed you. The weight of his words came to haunt me as soon as he had spoken them.

He immediately attempted to follow you but was stopped by Seungkwan, “did you see her face, if you follow her now, she will resent you more. Not like you don’t deserve it, but you are still my friend.”

The tone of his voice showed how much he was upset with Jeonghan. So much so that the younger male could not even look at his face.

“You are my hyung, but you know what I like her more, never have I ever thought you would do something like this,” he continued, “I hope she never forgives you.”  

Hearing that Jeonghan couldn’t control himself and punched Seungkwan and a fight broke out. The boys trying their best to resolve it.

“It’s already a mess, can you both stop making it worse!” Mingyu said as Seungkwan punched Jeonghan back square on the jaw.

“Tell that shit to not meddle in my business then” comes Jeonghan’s voice.

“Maybe if you didn’t break her heart I wouldn’t, she was a fucking nice person,” Seungkwan shouted back as Mingyu dragged him out.

The night was ruined, and it was all because of Jeonghan.

--

That night you came home and cried your heart out ignoring all the calls from Jeonghan and the other boys, with whom you had exchanged numbers during the hangout. Thankfully, it was a Sunday the next day, so you didn’t have to look at the man who broke your heart, but it pained you so much to even move a muscle. It was like your heart was ripped out of your body. The pain was immeasurable.

There were at least a hundred missed calls on your phone and thirty of them from all of the boys. Your best friend come to your place that Sunday and tried her best to console a sad you, but nothing could stop you from beating yourself up for trusting a man like him. it’s true you loved him, and you regrated doing so, you didn’t blame Jeonghan for breaking your heart, you blamed yourself for being weak enough for you to let Jeonghan do so to you, for letting the man step all over you like you were a piece of trash that had no place in the normal world. The degrading things that he had said about you kept echoing in your ears, making it hard for you to think of anything else.

It was like you had forgotten all about your vow to never let anyone step over you and take away a piece of you from yourself. You were so hurt that you refused to see Jeonghan at all. So, on the next Monday you asked your HR for a weeklong leave and the kind lady obliged owing to your stellar performance at your department.

You turned off your phone that week and went to stay with you friend as the house was too lonely for you and the more you stayed there, the more you felt the memories of you and Jeonghan coming to haunt you.

--

On that Monday, Jeonghan woke up with a newfound determination. He was resolved to confront you and explain that his hurtful words from that night stemmed from his own inability to accept his feelings. He believed that once he clarified his side of the story, your compassionate nature would lead you to forgive him. He was even prepared to humble himself, willing to beg for your forgiveness if necessary. However, fate intervened when he discovered you had taken a week-long leave from the office.

The realization of consequences hit him suddenly. Yes, he understood the gravity of his actions, but he was willing to face any repercussions if it meant having you back in his arms. Anything seemed bearable compared to the thought of losing you.

By Wednesday, Jeonghan found himself standing at your doorstep, desperately knocking, hoping to speak with you. To his dismay, a neighbor informed him that you had been absent since Monday. His heart sank realizing he had missed his chance to reconcile with you.

He had made a solemn vow to himself that he would reach out to you no matter what obstacles lay in his path, willing to go to any lengths to make amends. However, he now realized the depth of his mistake. Reflecting on his actions, he understood that he should have heeded the advice of his friends earlier, but it was too late for regrets.

Jeonghan's determination to win you back consumed him. He felt a deep pang of regret for not acting sooner and for failing to appreciate the warnings from his friends. Now, facing the reality of your absence, he grappled with the weight of his impulsive behavior.

In the days that followed, Jeonghan resolved to wait patiently for your return, determined to seize any opportunity to make things right. He hoped against hope that he hadn't irreparably damaged the bond between you. Each passing day without you served as a sobering reminder of the importance of listening to his instincts and valuing the counsel of those who cared about him.

--

The next week you opened your phone to see it has blown up with Jeonghan’s messages and there were a few from Seungkwan asking you if you are okay and telling you that he had punched Jeonghan for being an asshole to you and that most of the people didn’t agree with Jeonghan’s antics but its hard to stop Jeonghan when is like that.

Taking pity of the boy you and answered him accepting his apology and telling him you were happy that he punched the guy.

His answer came immediately, saying he was happy that there is no bad blood among you two and he prefers you more than Jeonghan anyways making you laugh at his cuteness.

When you returned back to the office, the first thing you did was hand them your resignation letter. The next thing on your list was avoid Jeonghan till you leave work, at which you were pretty successful.

And just like that you were done with your time in the office and were moving onto another job before Jeonghan could even get hold of you.

--

Its has been three years since and life had never been better. You became friends with Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung immediately. You four hangout quite frequently. The three younger men like you a lot too. It’s a strong bond you have created with them. If anyone asks you would say the only good thing that came from your ex was the friends you made while with him.

On top of that you also have been in a relation with a man who treats you right and loves you to death. Its like you have at last reached the light at the end of the tunnel.

--

Jeonghan on the other hand drowned himself in work after you left, the man tried his best to forget your existence and was very thankful his work helped him do so. But whenever he was out with his friends he couldn’t stop himself from asking about you and always he got the same answer of ‘none of your fucking business’ from Seungkwan.

But it was different this time, it was the ever so kind Seokmin who answered him.

“Hyung she moved on, and you should too.” Hearing that he stood up, he didn’t know why. Would he go to your house and beg for your forgiveness again or will he call you while asking you to give him another chance?

Truth to be told, he didn’t know.

“Hyung please don’t mess this up for her. She is happy,” Seokmin spoke up again, kindly holding his hand to pull him down back onto his seat. It felt like Jeonghan’s life has come crashing down on him once again. One lone tear left his eye, too embarrassed to cry in front of his friends, he puts up a happy front while saying “of course Seok, I would do nothing to hurt her.”

All his friends looked at the man in pity, hoping that faith was kinder to him. but they couldn’t deny that he single handedly destroyed his life either. He was still their friend and he deserved to be happy to but so did you. The man sat in silence for some time till Joshua loudly declared he wanted to go to the arcade and all the others enthusiastically agreed, happy about the distraction.

That is when Jeonghan realized life has gone on and not stopped for anyone, the time he was supposed to seize his moment has passed and it wont ever come back. He now has to live his life without the presence of one of the most precious thing he ever had the privilege to possess, your love.

a/n 3: thank you all for reading !!

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 23)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

"I should have him killed," Tommy said as soon as Robert left the room, but you bristled at the suggestion.

"No, Tommy, you can't do that!" you objected. "This is all my fault, I know that and I will find a way to fix this," you promised gravely, eyes pleading for Tommy to reconsider. And, even though you too knew the full weight of your actions, somehow your heart didn't feel heavy, not yet. Instead, you still felt the euphoria of being with him: the exhilarating feeling as though his love was an intoxicating drug that coursed through your veins.

"Relax. I wasn't serious," Tommy conceded, softening his expression as he observed you, although he knew well that, by keeping Robert alive, there was always a risk the truth could inevitably bubble to the surface.

"I'll make sure he never breathes a word about this though," Tommy promised, his voice firm and his eyes hard and you nodded silently, still reeling from what had just happened.

" Tommy," you eventually whispered meekly after almost three minutes of silence, your heart pounding as you reached for his hand and he took it in his own, his grip warm and steady.

"Yes, Love?" he asked, intently focused on your expression.

"I don't want you to marry Lizzie," you admitted quietly, your heart still reeling from the whirlwind of emotion that had swept through the room.

Tommy let out a sigh, releasing your hand as he turned away and paced toward the large fireplace at the far end of the room.

Gripping the mantlepiece with white-knuckled intensity, he spoke in a low growl towards the flames dancing merrily within the hearth.

"Love, it's already done and it's for the best, eh" he insisted. "I can't call off the wedding and I most certainly can't be with you, no matter how much I want to," he added, his voice thick with regret.

The air in the room became heavy, filled with unspoken emotions that weighed down on you like a poorly fitted corset, squeezing the air from your lungs.

You searched his face, trying to find any kind of warmth that could hint at the love he said he felt for you, but his gaze remained fixed on the fire crackling within the hearth.

"I can't just forget about us though," you admitted softly, taking a tentative step towards him as if approaching a caged lion. "I read the letters," you told him with tears in your eyes.

"Yes, the letters I never send to you for a fucking reason," he snapped, his disappointment written clearly across the hard lines of his handsome face. "You are my goddamn niece for fuck sake!"  Tommy thundered, spinning around rapidly and taking a step towards you. The blazing fire behind him illuminated his sculpted face, casting deep shadows across his features as he looked at you with an expression that swung between despair and frustration. 

"But we didn't know when all of this started between us,"  you protested quietly, maintaining the fragile connection between you.

"Does it fucking matter now, Love?" Tommy ground out, his voice a rasp of gravel and anger as he stared down at you.

You trembled under his gaze, those blue eyes that could both soothe and incite fear burning with an intensity that left you wanting to surrender, even as your heart screamed at you to run.

"Society won't care about whether we knew or not. No one would ever fucking marry us and I certainly won't get into the House of Fucking Commons if it was to be found out that  I fucked my own niece," Tommy growled, his body rigid with tension.

"I cannot change the fact that we are related, and I cannot change the fact that I want you more than anything in this world. But it doesn't fucking matter. We just -," Tommy began, only to be cut off by your lips on his. 

"Shut up," you whispered, your voice thick with desire.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you, kissing him deeply. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he hesitated for just a moment before he kissed you back, his lips devouring yours with a passion that took your breath away.

Tommy's hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his arousal pressing into you, hot and hard. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs apart.

"I don't want marriage. I don't even want you to admit, in public, that you have feelings for me, but I want to be with you occasionally and I don't want to fucking share you," you panted, your voice shaking with desire as his hands roamed your body.

"Y/N, we can't do this," Tommy groaned, even as his lips found your neck and his breath ghosted against your skin. "But I can't fucking keep my hands off you either," he admitted, the words like a confession against your heated flesh. "What are you doing to me?" Tommy breathed, hands gripping your hips so tightly it was almost painful. But you reveled in the knowledge that you had this effect on him, a man who was so in control of everything around him, reduced to a panting, pleading mess of sensations.

You arched your back, breaking the kiss as you reached upwards, unbuttoning his shirt again. The strong lines and shadows of his chest unfolded before you like an illicit gift and you couldn't resist running your fingers over his skin, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat under your touch.

"I need your cock inside me , Tommy," you demanded, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him with a hunger that he mirrored in his eyes.

He groaned at your words, low and deep in his throat, his blue eyes darkening with desire as they locked on you.

You reached down to pull your skirt up further, exposing yourself to him as he pushed his trousers down and stood between your open legs, his throbbing need evident of its fierce desire.

Tommy's hungry gaze never left yours as he pushed into you in one sharp movement.

Your head fell back with a gasp, his name spilling from your lips as you welcomed him deeper inside.

You were wet and ready, the slickness coating his length as he filled you completely. The feeling was indescribable; pleasure mixed with guilt and longing that made your heart race and your mind whirl with emotions.

Tommy's eyes blazed with lust as he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he moved within you.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "You feel so fucking good."

Despite the cold air in the room, sweat beaded on both of your brows as you matched his thrusts, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The desk beneath you creaked and shifted with each harsh movement, but neither of you cared. The world outside this room didn't matter, only the two of you and the primal connection between you until, finally, you reached your high.

"Oh my fucking god , Tommy!" you screamed as your orgasm tore through your body. His name tasted sweet on your lips and you relished in the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin as you clenched around him. "Yes, yes, just like that," you gasped, your head thrown back and eyes closed in pleasure as he drove into you harder. Tommy's movements became more frenzied, his control slipping as he chased his release.

"Fuck , Y/N," he growled, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble as his hips snapped forward. "You're going to make me come so hard."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, igniting the flames of your own renewed desire.

You clenched around him, milking his cock with your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist as he continued to piston in and out of you until, finally, he stilled.

Groaning even louder than before, Tommy emptied himself deep within you, seed dripping from your still-quivering entrance as he fell forward, resting his forehead against yours.

His breaths came in short pants, and you smiled as his cock twitched in the aftermath of its climax within your warmth. 

"Fuck I love you," Tommy muttered, eyes drifting closed as a sigh of pure ecstasy passed through his lips. He shivered against you.

"I love you too,"  you whispered back, the warmth of your breath brushing against his cheek, causing goosebumps to rise up all over his body.

You sat and stood there for a moment, completely intertwined with one another, your chests heaving in sync. The only sound in the room was the steady beating of your hearts and the labored breaths leaving your lungs.

You looked up at Tommy and noticed the satisfied, blissful expression on his face that you had put there.

His hair was slightly damp with sweat and stuck to your forehead as his body relaxed against yours on the desk. The satisfaction that warmed you up from the inside, knowing that you had done this to him, was unparalleled. You loved seeing him lose control, even if it was just for a moment in time. After a few moments of post-sex silence, Tommy slowly pulled out of you and stood up straight. His body glistened with the sweat of exertion and desire and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you draped over his desk, thoroughly fucked.

But the smile quickly faded as reality came crashing back down.

"We can't keep doing this, Love," he muttered, tucking his shirt back into his trousers and doing up his belt. "I am getting married tomorrow," he reminded you, causing you to nod. 

"I know," you replied softly, still catching your breath. The feeling of emptiness as he pulled out of you was a stark reminder of the cruel reality. "I know it's wrong, Tommy."

He leaned over the desk and kissed you gently on the lips, a small promise that he would always protect you.

As you pulled your skirt back down and fixed your hair, Tommy took one last look at you before turning to leave the room. The silence of the study felt heavy and charged, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest.

You watched as he walked out of the room, leaving you alone in a state of blissful satisfaction, and the chilliness of the room brought reality crashing back down around you. You knew that this moment couldn't last forever, but it was something that you would cherish nonetheless.

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[alittlebitofsainz]

you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)

prompt: “i’m on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you don’t understand.”

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.

a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“I just don’t understand how you can stay with them after everything they’ve put you through.”

you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.

“that’s just it, danny, you don’t understand.” you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. “this is my career, it’s my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.”

“you know it’s the same for me, right?” daniel’s voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. “this is the end of my career, probably. but it’s gotta be better than staying with mclaren.”

you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see.

“but you’re you, danny. you’ll get another chance, I’m sure. you’re one of the biggest faces in this sport.” you sighed again, “but I’m just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.” you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.

you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. you’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. he’d always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldn’t he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. you’d been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. you’d meant what you’d said at the time, but… no. you couldn’t do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didn’t seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you weren’t hundreds of miles away.

“just think, me, you, the outback. we’ll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.” daniel’s voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldn’t see the tears forming on your lower lash line.

“I can’t, danny. you know I can’t.” even if daniel couldn’t see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldn’t hear it in your voice.

“I know.” he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didn’t want daniel to hang up. you didn’t want to believe that this could all be over just like that.

“I’m really sorry, dan.” you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.

“you don’t need to apologise. it’s not your fault.” came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, you’d come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?

“we can still make this work, can’t we?”

you’d been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didn’t fill you with confidence.

“I want to, god, you don’t even understand how much I want to.” came daniel’s reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the ‘but’ on the end of his sentence.

“we can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year you’ll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer break…”

the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.

“please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.”

you’d never heard daniel’s voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didn’t know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldn’t be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.

“no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you at races and stuff, next year.” the finality in daniel’s voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, you’d been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.

“yeah. I’ll see you around.” you couldn’t believe this was the way it would end. I’ll see you around. as if you hadn’t spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadn’t spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.

“I loved you, y/n. never forget that.”

it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify daniel’s words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldn’t even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.

a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the daniel’s contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.

[anistarrose]

I think when a lot of queer people who aspire to marriage, and remember (rightly) fighting for the right to marriage, see queer people who don't want marriage, talking about not entering or even reforming or abolishing marriage, there's an assumption I can't fault anyone for having — because it's an assumption borne of trauma — that queers who aren't big on marriage are inadvertently or purposefully going to either foolishly deprive themselves of rights, or dangerously deprive everyone of the rights associated with marriage. But that's markedly untrue. We only want rights to stop being locked behind marriages. We want an end to discrimination against the unmarried.

We want a multitude of rights for polyamorous relationships. We want ways to fully recognize and extend rights to non-romantic and/or non-sexual unions, including but not limited to QPRs, in a setting distinct from the one that (modern) history has spent so long conflating with romance and sex in a way that makes many of us so deeply uncomfortable. And many of us are also disabled queers who are furious about marriage stripping the disabled of all benefits.

We want options to co-parent, and retain legal rights to see children, that extends to more than two people, and by necessity, to non-biological parents (which, by the way, hasn't always automatically followed from same-gender marriage equality even in places where said equality nominally exists. Our struggles are not as different as you think). We would like for (found or biological) family members and siblings to co-habitate as equal members of a household, perhaps even with pooled finances or engaging in aforementioned co-parenting, without anyone trying to fit the dynamic into a "marriage-shaped box" and assume it's incestuous. We want options to leave either marriages, or alternative agreements, that are less onerous than divorce proceedings have historically been.

I can't speak for every person who does not want to marry, but on average, spurning marriage is not a choice we make lightly. We are deeply, deeply aware of the benefits that only marriage can currently provide. And we do not take that information lightly. We demand better.

Now, talking about the benefits of marriage in respective countries' current legal frameworks, so that all people can make choices from an informed place, is all well and good — but is not an appropriate response to someone saying they are uncomfortable with marriage. There are people for whom entering a marriage, with all its associated norms, expectations, and baggage, would feel like a betrayal of one's self and authenticity that would shake them to their core — and every day, I struggle to unpack if I'm one of them or not. If I want to marry for tax benefits, or not. If that's worth the risk of losing disability benefits, in the (very plausible) possibility that I have to apply for them later in life. If that's worth the emotional burden of having to explain over and over, to both well-meaning and deeply conservative family members, that this relationship is not one of romance or sex. (Because, god, trying just to explain aromanticism or asexuality in a world that broadly thinks they're "fake" is emotional labor enough.)

Marriage is a fundamental alteration to who I am, to what rights an ableist government grants me, and to how I am perceived. I don't criticize the institution just because I enjoy a "free spirit" aesthetic or think the wedding industry is annoying, or whatever.

[sargeantposting]

Alex: You two, I didn't know this, I actually– so, funny story about this. Um, I'm always on Youtube during– uh, not, not doing it during meetings, but for most of the time–

Logan: He’s always on it.

Oscar: You’re always on Youtube. Alright.

Alex: I’m messing around. 

Logan: He’s photoshopping things– 

Alex: My suggested videos coming up right now on my, on my work laptop, back at the race track is Formula Four from when you guys were racing. So, I get these recommended races from Knockhill of you two going at it. But you two have been teammates, you–

Logan: Multiple times. 

Alex: Were you teammates in Formula 4 as well? 

Logan: Ricky Flynn. 

Oscar: Ricky Flynn, but you were in Seniors and I was in Juniors.

Alex: Ricky Flynn is karting, by the way. [...] That’s a fast karting name, though. Ricky Flynn Motorsports. 

Logan: It’s good.

Alex: It’s a good one. Who won out of you two in karting?

Logan: Well, he was in–

Oscar: Logan.

Logan: Did I? 

Oscar: I was in Juniors and he was in Seniors. 

Alex: What’s the age gap between you?

Oscar: Like six months. But–

Logan: Yeah, what were you doing, mate? [Laughs.]

Oscar: He won the World Championship and then went to Seniors and I stayed in Juniors.

Alex: Big dog Logs. And then Formula 4?

Logan: Formula 4. So, that was really tight. 

Oscar: That was really tight.

Logan: Wait, there is a good story about this actually. Um, there was a bit of a–

Alex: Beef? Beef?

Oscar: There was a bit of beef, not between us–

Logan: No! Not between us.

Oscar: But between our teams. 

Alex: Really? Oh, so you weren’t in the same team?

Oscar: We weren’t on the same team. 

Logan: There were some team tactics– that I was not part of– that were going down in the last race of the season. 

Alex: I should sit down. I should get some coffee.

Oscar: And, um, yeah, it got a bit fiery. 

Alex: Well, come on. You’ve got to tell us. Gotta tell the fans.

Logan: Well, I’ll let Oscar tell. 

Oscar: There’s been a few flash points. 

Logan: Let's just say, let's just say he was getting held up massively. Like, backed up.

Alex: Your teammate?

Oscar: Like Checo Abu Dhabi 2021 kind of thing. 

Alex: Like Magnussen?

Oscar: Yeah, like Magnussen in Jeddah, yeah, that kind of thing.

Logan: I was driving off in the distance and then I shunted it on my own. Didn’t matter in the end. But, it was actually going to be really close. 

Alex: You know what? You know what I find crazy about that stuff is, I mean, these kids are paying serious money in F4. So why would you do team orders for your team? 

Oscar: Well, he'd already won.

Logan: He’d already won the championship.

Oscar: So we were fighting for second in the championship. 

Logan: And he didn't tell me he was going to do this. He just went out there and did it. 

Oscar: Yeah. So he won with like a race to go. This was for P2 in the Championship. And, yeah. It got a bit fiery. 

Logan: You know Jamie [Caroline].

Alex: Oh, he is fiery. What does he do now? 

Logan: Um. Is he still racing? I don't think so. I'm not sure.

Oscar: I haven't heard anything since. 

Alex: He must be watching this and going fuck these boys in F1 and I'm here. I don't know what you're doing, Jamie. But, but obviously, um, you should be here, you should be driving a Red Bull.

Logan: And then, yeah, of course, our battle in F3. 

Oscar: Yeah.

Logan: That went down to the wire. Last race of the year.

Alex: I was watching that. I think that I was in, I think I was in F1 at the time. 

Logan: Yeah, that was your Red Bull season.

Oscar: 2020.

Alex: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. And you guys were, um– 

Logan: And I shunt it again in the last race.

Alex: Did you?

Oscar: It’s like a theme here.

Logan: This one wasn't my fault though.

Oscar: Yeah, that one wasn't your fault. 

Alex: So, last race. I'm gonna give you some extra room. Just wait for it to come. Good. Well, um. You guys clearly have some history.

Oscar: Mm. 

Alex: Does that mean you guys must be– well, you guys are pretty close off-track. 

Oscar: Yeah.

Alex: You guys came into F1 at the same time as well. 

Oscar: Yep. 

Alex: Good. That's good. That's really nice. That's really sweet.

Oscar: Yeah.

Alex: Um, right.

Logan: It's like you with, you know, Lando.

Alex: Yeah, I could see that, I could see that. But even for us, I don't think I was that– we weren't teammates all that close throughout our kind of rise up because Lando came in super quickly. I was the slowest and then George was like somewhere in the middle. So. we kind of like–  Lando is still, what is it? Three years younger than I am? Two years younger than me? Three? At least. 

Oscar: Ok, so there you go. 

Alex: Yeah. Nice. Nice.

Logan: Next topic?

Oscar: Yeah.

[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ N'OUBLE PAS DE VIVRE. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : bang chan x female reader

TROPE. streetracer!au, fake dating au

WORD COUNT. 5.9k

WARNINGS. drinking, mentions of drugs, illegal activities, streetracing, smut

PARTS. one, two, three

SYNOPSIS. y/n, new to seoul, south korea, has yet to find the crowd she wants to roll with. that is, until she hears one of her best friends babbling about the hottest topic of the city - the streetracers. specifically a group known as "stray kids". when y/n finds herself in the backseat of one of the racers' cars, she is thrown unexpectedly into a world much different from the one she was raised in - and perhaps has found the crowd she wants to roll with.

SMUT WARNINGS. kind of dirty talk not really, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving) (there will be more in the other parts)

n'ouble pas de vivre. ⎯ don't forget to live.

"What if I told you that I fucking hate you?" You glance over at your father, eyes lidded. You know you're high out of your mind, and you know that you don't really mean it - you haven't meant anything you've said in the past three hours.

"You don't hate me." Your father flips the page of his book absentmindedly, practically ignoring the fact that you're screaming in his face.

"I hate you!" You yell, and as if trying to make your point, you smudge the end of your cigarette on the wall. Part of you hopes that your father will stand up and reprimand you - the other part hopes you can continue getting away with your outrageous behavior.

"Why do you hate me, Y/N?" He finally looks up, locking eyes with you.

"You tore me away from my home," you say finally, sitting down against the wall. "I want to see my mom."

"You know damn well where your mother is." A flash of anger tears through your father's face, before quickly fading. He composes himself, straightening his suit. "Your mother is dead, honey."

You realize that you're crying now, but you couldn't give less of a fuck. Your father - this man who you've never met before in your life - has never chosen to care about you before the death of your mother. Why on Earth would he choose to care now? What was so important that you had to pack yourself up from New York and cross the fucking world to get to Seoul, South Korea?

"Fuck you!" You yell, standing quickly and moving through the hallway, up the stairs and to the bedroom that you've never slept in before. This is not your childhood bedroom, or the one that your mother always kept ready when you were away at college, or even the one at your ex-boyfriend's house - what on Earth were you going to do without Soobin here?

Some deep, hidden recess of you understands that this situation isn't your father's fault - in fact, you're sure he'd much rather be out partying and bringing home anyone he pleases than babysitting for an eighteen-year-old walking depressive episode. You know that he doesn't want you here, and you don't want to be here either.

So why won't he let you leave?

The thoughts make their way hurriedly through your mind, as though they're late to a business meeting in some other deep cavity of your skull. Soon, the rushing puts you to sleep, and you're left to dwell alone in your subconscious.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

When you awaken again, it's nearly six am. With class two hours later, you get up slowly and get ready for your day, brushing your teeth and donning your clothes that look much too American for your liking.

"Can we pick up Soyeon?" you ask as you exit your father's house, looking over at his private driver, who just bows and nods at you. You're at Soyeon's apartment fifteen minutes later, and the pretty blond grins as she jumps into the backseat of the sports car with you, clutching her bag.

In your entire two months living in Seoul already, you've made all but one friend - Jeon Soyeon. An aspiring underground rapper with a taste for expensive sunglasses. She splays out across the backseat, letting her legs drape over your lap as she hangs her head out the window. "How mad was your dad last night?" she asks, tilting her head at you as she swings her head back in to examine your face.

"Not mad," you say, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. You catch a glimpse of the driver wrinkling his nose, but you ignore it, taking a drag and blowing a puff of smoke at your friend's face. "He wasn't upset at all until I brought up my mom. I don't think he cares that I was smoking and stuff."

Soyeon pretends to pout. "You're lucky. My mom is such a cunt about all that stuff. 'That shit kills you, Soyeon.' Like I don't wanna die already!" she giggles, and you can tell that even now, at seven-thirty in the morning on a random Tuesday in March, Jeon Soyeon is high out of her mind.

"I'm so glad we ended up in the same psych class," she says, bloodshot eyes glancing up at you. "Life would be so boring. All those fucking do-gooders are fucked."

"You're fucked," you say, pushing her playfully.

"So are you, bitch!" she laughs.

Not long after, you've arrived at the university that the two of you take classes together at. You get out of the car, shouldering your bag and stepping out onto the green, Soyeon following behind you. Around you, students bustle around, lounging between classes, hand-in-hand with their lovers, trying to run from a one-night-stand without being seen. You smile as a girl runs from bush to bush, trying to fix her mousy hair and hide the fact that she's still wearing the dress you saw her in at the party last night. In fact, you remember taking off that dress. You wonder how she ended up at someone else's dorm.

Soyeon hardly notices anything, running a little ahead of you and jumping into a much-too energetic cartwheel.

"Who'd you end up going home with last night?" you ask her, jogging a little to catch up.

"Some guy. Chi . . . Ji-something? . . . no . . . Sung? . . . Jisung? I think that's what his name was."

You nod. "Was he nice?"

"He was cool," Soyeon says. "I've seen him and his friend a few times at the rap shows. Sometimes one of them gets up and does a little freestyle. He's pretty good. He's part of a street racing group though, did you know?"

"Street racing?"

"Come on, don't tell me they don't have street racing in America."

"No, they do, it's just like not something that happens a lot. And most American street racers don't go to prestigious universities, either."

"Haughty haughty." Soyeon wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging you gently. "Most stoners don't go to prestigious universities either. And here we are, strolling into a fucking psych lecture in a prestigious university."

You take your seats beside each other, waiting for the lecture to begin.

"You should come with me. Jisung asked if I wanted to come see a race tonight. He said I could get a backseat pass and everything." She winks at you, and you shake your head knowingly. "Seriously though. It could be fun! Maybe you'll find your new calling."

You roll your eyes. "I'd rather not," you say.

So, how exactly did you end up here, fourteen hours later, sitting in a crowded back-alley dotted with girls showing too much skin and guys showing off their fancy multi-colored cars.

"This doesn't seem like a street race," you tell Soyeon, fixing your dress. It's practically vanta black and too short, but Soyeon said it complimented your figure and you didn't want to fight with her.

"That's cause none of the big leagues have shown up yet. These are all just bozos who get off on girls in small tops."

"You do realize that you're a girl in a small top, right?" You glance over at Soyeon, who is dressed in a flattering bikini top and jean skirt, showing off her delicate body.

Soyeon turns around and wiggles her ass at you. "Damn right I am." She stands back up, ignoring the whistling and claps that erupt around us at her little display, and leads me over into a semi-vacant corner of the lot. "Look, they're starting to show up. I'll give you a rundown of the big groups, yeah?"

You nod, looking around.

"See them, over there? The four girls? That's Blackpink. Their racers are Lisa and Jisoo - some of the best girls in the league." She points off at a group of four girls, standing beside two cars - one black and one pink.

"Them? Ateez. Hongjoong is in charge of them, I think, but he doesn't race." She continues rattling off names that don't mean anything to you - Itzy, Seventeen, Le Sserafim, P1Harmony, and a few others. Finally, she pauses. "Look, there's Jisung. He's with Stray Kids."

"Stray Kids?"

"Mhm. They're at the top right now. Four racers, four mechanics, but they practically all do everything. Look, those four are the racers. They have names, I'm sure, but everyone calls them by their racer names. J.One - that's Jisung - and Spear.B and I.N. And that's CB97. Jisung, Changbin, Jeongin, and Chan."

"Chan is cute."

She looks over. "You think so?"

You nod, watching him. His hair was short-ish and hung in dark curls that framed his face nicely. He had a piercing on his nose, and wore a fitted black shirt and jeans that looked way too big for him. Even so, it was clear he was ripped, and held himself with confidence, even amongst the rest of his team.

"You and every other girl here," Soyeon says. "He graduated from the school we're going to last year."

You nod again, hardly able to form words as you watch his graceful movements. You barely pay attention as Soyeon spouts off the rest of the members, then drags you over to say hi to Jisung, who grins and kisses her on the cheek as the two of you come up to them.

"Who's this?" he asks, turning to you.

"Y/N," you say, bowing slightly.

He laughs. "None of that, let's be informal. No one here gives a fuck. Soyeon, can you come help me with something?"

Soyeon nods, giggling and blowing you a kiss as Jisung whisks her away.

"Great," you say quietly to yourself. "Alone."

"Not alone," says a deep voice behind you. You turn, finding yourself face to face with none other than CB97 - Chan.

"Oh, no?" you ask. "I look pretty alone to me."

He shakes his head, leaning against the car. "I'm here, aren't I?"

You nod, trying to hold back your urge to scream and kick your feet like a little kid. "I suppose so."

"American?"

You sigh. "Mhm."

"We can speak English then, love." You look up quickly as the boy switches from Korean to English, what sounds like an Australian accent layered thick over his pretty voice.

"Oh, okay."

"Ever been to one of these before? Races, I mean."

You shake your head. "First time. My, uh, my friend dragged me out here actually. She's with Jisung, I guess? They went to go work on something together."

Chan shakes his head. "Of course they are. Soyeon is your friend? She's trouble."

You nod. "Tell me about it."

"I'm Chan, by the way. Bang Chan. Everybody around here calls me CB97 though."

"Do you want me to call you that?" you ask, looking up at him.

"You can call me Chan, pretty girl. Now, do you have a name? Or should I just keep calling you pretty girl?"

"Pretty girl works for me." You smile. "My name's Y/N though."

"Y/N." He mutters the name over and over, as if turning it over like a coin in his mind. "Cute."

"Thanks."

"Chan!" You both look up at a redheaded boy who called his name, waving him over to a deep purple car.

"That's my queue." Chan winks at you. "Here, um, can I have your number?"

"I, yeah, do you have any paper or something to write it on?"

"CHAN."

"I'm fucking coming, Minho." Chan presses his hand to his temple, eyes closed. He turns back to you. "Let me grab my phone, it's just in my car-"

"Ten, nine, eight . . ."

"You know what? Fuck." Chan practically manhandles you over to his car, opening the backseat and basically tossing you in before getting in the driver's seat.

"What the fuck?" you snap, sitting up as the door is closed behind you.

"Hang on," Chan says softly, and you watch his eyes flit around the dash, searching for problems with his car. He drives slowly up to a white line in the road, lining up with three other cars. You don't recognize either of the drivers on the other sides of Chan. "Come up front," Chan says quickly, patting the passenger seat. "Quick."

You do as he says, climbing up to the passenger seat of the car and buckling your seatbelt quick.

"I hope you don't get motion sickness." He tries to joke, glancing over at you. You glare at him. "Look, I'm sorry. I really didn't want to lose you in the crowd or anything and I couldn't find my phone and I didn't have enough time, so I just- I don't know. I just brought you in here with me. I'm sorry."

You sigh. "I can't even pretend like I'm upset. You're really fucking hot. You know what they always say: n'ouble pas de vivre."

"What is that, French?"

"'Don't forget to live.' Yeah, it is."

"I've never heard that before."

"It's basically like saying 'fuck it' to the world."

"Maybe I like that saying. Look, if you wanna get out-"

You look over at him. "Hell no. I have too much social anxiety to walk off the track like that."

Chan cracks a smile. "Then buckle up, sweetheart."

"I'm buckled."

He reaches over, and you find your heart pounding in your chest as he tugs on your seatbelt, making sure it's tight. "I'm not stopping once we start," he says. "This race is important."

"I wouldn't expect you to." You flash him a smile. "Relax. It's cool."

"You say that now," he says, cracking his neck in a jerky movement.

You roll your eyes, slumping back in your chair. In front of you, a tanned woman wearing hardly a bikini steps out in front of the cars, holding a red flag in each hand. She raises the flags, and Chan tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

The woman raises both flags. You hardly see her drop them before Chan's foot is all the way down on the gas, propelling the car forward. You let out an involuntary yell, and you catch Chan grinning out of the corner of your eye.

The race is over as soon as it had begun. Chan won - not surprising, considering the reckless way he drove - and looked over to smile at you as you pulled back into the lot. "Enjoy it?"

"I'm never ever getting in a car with you again."

He snorts a laugh. "I liked the part when you were screaming."

"What, the entire time?"

"Something like that."

"Don't you have to go greet your adoring fans?" you ask, only half joking.

"I'd much rather sit in here and talk to you."

You pretend to run your fingers through your hair to hide the smile that flits across your face.

"Do you live anywhere around here?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Other side of the city."

Chan presses his lips together. "It's getting pretty late . . . my apartment is close by. If you wanted to, you could stay there for the night. I have a feeling your friend will end up there too."

"You share an apartment with Jisung?"

He nods. "Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Loud fucking group."

You smile. "That sounds nice. You're not gonna like, kidnap me and eat my kidneys are you?"

"If I wanted to kidnap you, I'd have already had plenty of opportunities for it. As for eating your kidneys, I can't promise anything." Chan looks over at you with an expression that sets your heart pounding in your chest.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that, you freak."

The name calling is playful, but Chan pretends to be offended, opening his mouth in feign shock. He moves to say something, but he's interrupted as a pretty boy with longer hair knocks hard on his window, making a disgruntled face and pointing for Chan to unlock the door.

"Hey, Jinnie. This is Y/N, have you met her yet?"

The man shakes his head, then bows a little at me. "I'm Hyunjin."

"Nice to meet you." You smile at Chan's roommate.

"She's coming back with us tonight," Chan tells Hyunjin. "Her apartment is across town, so I figured that would be fine."

"Sure, like Jisung and Soyeon won't be loud enough as it is."

"We're not going to fuck, asshat." Chan pulls Hyunjin's beanie off his head, getting out of the car to dance around him playfully. You get out too, laughing at their antics.

"You have any more races?" Hyunjin asks as he snatches his beanie back.

"Not tonight. Do the others?"

Hyunjin shakes his head. "I'm gonna head back now. Let the others know."

Chan nods. "We'll be there soon."

For the remainder of the evening, Chan's arm is locked around your waist, keeping you close to him, as though you getting in the car with him was some sort of unspoken oath that you would be by his side the rest of the night. He takes you around to meet the other members of his crew, then a few others. You recognize a few from Ateez, who Stray Kids seem to be particularly close with. Finally, Chan announces that the two of you are leaving. Minho and Felix are quick to catch up to Chan and you, asking if they could catch rides with Chan.

As you approach his car, you move to get in the backseat, expecting one of the other boys to take their position next to Chan. You jump a little as Chan grabs your wrist, opening the passenger door for you.

"Well I'll be damned," Felix says, grinning at the display, "Channie's whipped for you, Y/N, you should be proud."

Minho grunts in agreement from the other side of the car. Chan rolls his eyes at both of them, helping you in the car then going over to his side and getting in.

The ride back to their apartment is talkative, with Minho and Felix telling you embarrassing stories about Chan and cracking jokes from the backseat, with Chan occasionally chiming in to make fun of them too. He keeps looking over at you, like he's checking if you're safe, even though you're no longer doing eighty on a city road.

You finally pull up to a nice-looking apartment building, and everyone gets out. You follow the three boys to the seventeenth floor, to apartments 17A and 17E, which are each across the hall from each other. Chan bids goodnight to Minho and Felix, who enter 17E, and unlocks the door to 17A, smiling at you. "Tired?"

"Not particularly, why?"

"'Cause I can smell the weed that Hyunjin got out."

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with smoking and weird pastries that Changbin practically pulled out of his ass and really good music that, apparently, Chan likes to make.

The next morning, you wake up in Chan's bed with a raging headache and only half dressed. Chan is sitting on the floor, reading a book. You mumble something inaudible, and he turns to look up at you.

"Morning," he says, smiling as he shuts the book and moves to sit next to you on the bed. "How do you feel?"

You groan, mashing your head into the pillow.

"Yeah, I figured as much. Here, take some Tylenol." You don't even look at the pill and cup of water Chan hands you as you down it.

He runs a hand through your hair, looking down at you. "Take your time, pretty girl. I'm in no rush, and I have a feeling you aren't either."

"Thank you," you say, reaching up to gently trace patterns on his wrist.

"You know, it's funny."

"What is?"

"We met each other last night."

You open your eyes. "What?"

"It seems like we've known each other forever, don't you think?"

You blink, sitting up a little. "Yeah, it does, honestly."

He smiles. "I guess that's good, right?"

You nod, looking around. "Is this your room?" There's posters of bands and cars on the wall, a collection of CDs and vinyls littering his half-open closet, and a rack of clothes waiting to be folded.

He nods. "Sorry, it's kind of messy."

You shake your head. "It's homey. I love it."

"You do?"

"Mhm."

"You could come over a lot more, you know. I like having you here. It was nice sleeping next to someone for a change."

You look up at him, eyes widening.

"What, you didn't expect me to sleep on the floor, did you? Not even for you, pretty girl."

"Stop calling me that, it doesn't apply in this situation."

"Yes it does." Chan rolls his eyes, touching your face tentatively. "You're absolutely gorgeous. Even with your makeup everywhere." He laughs softly, running a thumb under your eye to collect the bits of mascara that came off while you were sleeping.

"Thanks," you mumble.

"Come on, I'll help you up. Hyunjin made waffles for everyone."

You let Chan lead you into the main section of the apartment, where Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Soyeon are all sitting around a table, looking out the window over Seoul.

"Morning," Chan says, making his way to the kitchen part of the room.

A round of "morning"s chorus from the other side of the room.

"I'll get you some, go sit," Chan tells you as you join him in the kitchen. You do as he says, moving over to the couch to sit next to Soyeon, who's wearing a sweatshirt you've never seen before.

"Where's that from?" you ask. "It's cute."

"It's mine," Jisung says, smiling. "I'm glad you like it."

Soyeon nods. "How was it with Chan last night?"

"I have no idea," you tell her. "I have no memory of last night past taking the blunt from you."

She grins. "He was pretty adamant about you guys not having sex."

"I don't think we did, actually. I was fully clothed when I woke up."

"That's a good sign," she says, nodding solemnly. "I wasn't, so . . ."

You push her playfully, laughing.

Chan finally joins you all on the couch, grinning as he hands you a plate of waffles. As you move to take a bite, you're surprised by the sound of the doorbell. Hyunjin jumps up to get it.

"Chan!" he calls from the front of the apartment. He darts back into the living room. "It's your mom!"

Chan blinked once, then twice. "My mom?"

"Dude, she's right outside!"

"Fuck!" Chan says. "Y/N, I'm about to ask you something that you might not want to do, and you totally don't have to. My mom texted me last night to ask where I was and I told her I was out with my girlfriend. Is there any way you could, maybe, like, pretend to be dating me?"

You stare at him. Is this not something out of those romance books you read when you were younger? And Chan, the super mega hot street racer wanted this?

"Yeah, of course," you say.

"Okay." Chan breaks into a smile, and you hear Hyunjin let his mom in.

Everyone stands up, moving towards the door as a short, pretty woman enters. Chan steps forward, pulling her into a tight hug. "Mom! Why'd you come up, I thought you were gone visiting Hannah?"

"His sister," Changbin mouths to you, and you nod.

"I thought I'd take a layover in Seoul on my way to LA," the woman says, smiling.

"How long are you here for?"

"Two days. Now! Enough about me! Where's that pretty girlfriend you were telling me about?"

Chan laughs, nodding. He turns and takes your hand, pulling you forward next to him. He wraps his arm around your waist, kissing your forehead. "This is Y/N, Mom."

Chan's mom takes your hands in hers and smiles at you. "You're gorgeous, darling, I can see what Chan has been saying about you."

You look over at him for a split-second, then back at his mother. "Thank you so much." You smile.

She pats your face, then looks up at Chan. "And you dilly-dallied with that Libby for so long. I can't believe this beautiful woman wants to be with you."

"Mommmm," Chan says, groaning.

"Alright, alright. I just wanted to drop by. Would you all like to come out with me for dinner tonight?" his mom asks. "You can ask the other boys too, I know you eight don't like to go places without each other. And Y/N, you're welcome to come as well. And um, you dear." She smiled and bowed a little at Soyeon, who blushed and bowed back.

"We'd love to, Mrs. Bahng," Jisung says.

Everyone shares a few more goodbyes before Mrs. Bahng exits, leaving the six of you.

Chan turns to you immediately. "You're my literal savior, thank you so much. I mean, seriously."

"You should give her some better thanks than that," Jisung says. "Y/N just saved your ass."

Chan looks down at you. "I'm sure we'll work something out."

You can't help but feel an explosion of butterflies in your abdomen. Chan's gaze is fairly seductive as he watches you, eyelashes fluttering. You look back up at him, lips curling into a smile.

Barely an hour later, Chan and you are sitting on the porch of the apartment together, smoking a blunt that Jisung pulled out of his sock drawer.

"You know," Chan says. "I could give you a better thanks." He looks over at you.

You're not sure if it's the marijuana filtering through your body, or if he actually is, but you swear you've never seen a hotter man in your life.

"Oh yeah?" you ask. "What did you have in mind?"

He looks over at you pointedly, as if letting you know with his eyes.

"What?" you ask.

"I could eat you out," he tells you.

You cough, a puff of smoke leaving your lips. "You could what?"

"That's what Jisung told me to do. I'm just following what he said. But I like you. You're pretty. Actually, you're super gorgeous. You might actually be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I definitely wouldn't mind eating you out. Or just kissing you. Or just touching your lips wouldn't be that bad either . . ."

You tilt your head, smiling as he rambles on.

Finally he pauses. "You're really pretty."

"You're pretty fucking hot yourself," you tell him, passing the blunt.

"You think so?"

"Have you seen yourself?"

He laughs. "I'm glad you think so, Y/N. You don't have to make up your mind about it anytime soon, just, like, let me know, you know? It's the least I can do."

"Actually, I have an idea," you say.

Chan looks up. "Yeah?"

"I've never had sex," you say bluntly. Then you pause. "With a guy, at least. And I'm not good at kissing anyways. Here's my proposal. I'll keep pretending to be your girlfriend for as long as it takes, but you have to teach me all this stuff. How to like, give blowjobs and such."

"You've never given a blowie before?" He looks up in surprise. "With your pretty lips?"

If this were any other man, you would've found that comment horrendous. But this was Christopher Bahng, so you were perfectly okay with it.

"Sure," he says at last. "That sounds like a fair deal. N'ouble pas de vivre. When should we begin?"

You shrug. "Whenever, I guess."

"Well, it's only fair you get something today, cause you directly helped me today," Chan says.

You giggle, starting to stand. "You want me to suck you off, Channie?"

He shakes his head, standing from his chair and pushing you back into yours. One hand presses your lower abdomen, pinning you in place while the other pushes your legs apart, spreading them as he gets on his knees in front of you. "I don't want that to be how we start. I wanna taste your pretty pussy."

You blush, not used to the foul language he's speaking, but writhe anyways as he rakes one hand up your thigh, gently tugging on the hem of your shorts. "Hips up."

You do as he says, lifting your hips for him to let him slide both your panties and shorts off. "The others-" you start to say, but Chan stops you.

"I've caught them in much more compromising positions," he says. "This is nothing, babygirl."

Babygirl. You're once again reminded of your new life motto: if this was anyone other than this man saying these things, you would absolutely die. But, because it's Christopher Bahng, you'll let it slide.

"It's not?"

He shakes his head. "Just relax, okay? Let me do it all, yeah?"

You nod slowly, letting him push your legs apart, leaving you bare to him - and anyone unfortunate enough to be on the roof of the building over. You hardly cared, however, because he looked up at you with a smug grin on his face, face slowly moving toward your cunt.

"Chan," you say softly. You're not sure what you're trying to say to him by saying his name, but he just shakes his head and delves between your legs.

You moan softly as his tongue flicks against your clit, and you feel one of his fingers running up your thigh, all the way to tease your clenching hole.

You moan a little louder as he kisses your pussy, running his tongue between your folds and all around, slowly letting a finger slip inside you. Before you know it, there are two inside you, gently massaging your g-spot, which he seemed to have no trouble finding.

There's a new sort of tension in your stomach, building up as he continues his ministrations. You feel his nose brush against your clit, pressing harder against it as he licks around your hole, working around his fingers. Without warning, you're cumming hard, shaking and moving to close your legs around his head. "Oh, baby," you hear him say, his voice teasing. "That felt good?"

Chan pries your thighs back open, fingering you through your orgasm as he watches your face in awe.

You slump in your chair as you come down from your high, and Chan smiles, standing. He helps you back into your panties and shorts, then sits you back down, smiling. "You look beautiful when you cum. I mean you look beautiful always, but like, particularly when you cum."

You blush, not expecting such a blunt compliment.

He continues on, much to your dismay. "You just looked so . . . fucked out, I guess. Like you were fucking ascending or something. You looked gorgeous."

"I'm glad you think so," you giggle a little. "Um, thank you for that."

"Anytime." Chan grins. "Literally, anytime."

You smile. "I'll let you know next time."

Chan nods. "So, um, I have a race tonight. Do you wanna come with me? I think the boys might stay back, and it's nice when someone rides shotgun."

"Sure," you say. "It was fun last time."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

That night, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror in Chan's room, with Soyeon sitting on the bed behind you. Chan is in the shower, playing some odd assortment of music, and you're trying to figure out what to wear to his race.

"When it comes to these things," Soyeon is explaining to you, "the sluttier, the better."

"Do I really wanna dress like a slut though?"

"Yes. Always."

You turn and look at what she's holding out to you. You unfold the first item - a low-rise jean skirt. "My whole ass is gonna be hanging out, Soyeon."

She shrugs. "I like your ass. Chan obviously likes your ass. You have a great ass. Let it free, mama."

"For the top?" you ask, rolling your eyes.

Soyeon chucks something at you.

"This is barely a top."

"Let your titties free!" Soyeon crows.

You giggle. "How much have you smoked so far tonight?"

She shrugs. "I lost count at six hits. Wanna make out?"

Chan walks out of the bathroom just as she says this. He pauses, looking at you, then at Soyeon. "Don't let me stop you, ladies." You hardly pay attention to what he says though, because Chan is shirtless. He has a towel draped around his waist, his dark hair is wet and curly and shaggy on his head, and his torso, good god. His torso is muscular and defined, with a full six pack, monstrous pecs, and muscular arms.

Soyeon stands, holding out the skirt and top to Chan. "Don't you think Y/N should wear something like this tonight?"

Chan tongues his cheek, examining the clothes. "I think Y/N should wear whatever she wants to wear. But, I think you'd look fucking hot in these."

"Seeeeeee, sweetie? I've got your back. Go put these on."

When you emerge from the bathroom after your changing, you feel like a different woman. Soyeon was definitely right about her outfit choice for you. A nice pair of heels, a low-rise jean skirt, a black halter top that hardly covers your tits. She ended up throwing a thong into the bathroom too at some point, which you now have pulled up past your skirt, hooking over your hips to show it off a little.

"You look hot," Soyeon says, a puff of smoke curling from her mouth as she speaks. Chan is waiting at the mirror, staring at you.

"You look pretty." He clears his throat. "Not pretty. Like, drop dead mega hot."

"Slutty, cunty, I love it!" Soyeon squeals and jumps up, grabbing your hands and pulling you in a circle.

"It's okay?" you ask.

They both nod aggressively.

"Come on, let's go ask the other boys how they like it."

You're surprised at how comfortable you are already in the apartment with the boys. Jisung and Hyunjin are watching TV on the couch, and you gladly give them a little spin to show off your outfit. Changbin is in his room, lifting weights, and he whistles at you, telling you how much cunt you're serving.

As you and Soyeon exit Changbin's room, Chan catches you in the hallway, arm looping around your bare waist. "I have something for you, if you want it."

You tilt your head, looking up at him as Soyeon continues back into the living room, leaving the two of you alone in the darkened hallway. "Oh?"

He presents a long golden chain from his pocket. "It's a belly chain. I thought it might suit the outfit tonight. And also, Soyeon told me you wouldn't wear it unless I gave it to you. So . . ."

You roll your eyes. "I would have worn it. It's pretty though. How . . . how do you put it on?"

"Turn around," he says. You do as he says, and you feel him loop the chain around your waist, clasping it at the back. "I like it," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You really didn't have to dress up or whatever for tonight, but you look beautiful."

"Thank you," you say. "I figured Soyeon was right. I should try and fit in with the crowd there."

"Are you ready to go?"

You nod. "Ready when you are, racer boy."

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

this might end up becoming a series so lmk how you guys like it!!

[sitp-recs]

hi liv! do you know of any draco-centered longish fics??? thanks! i just love him so much

Hi anon, definitely! Here are my favourites:

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight (T, 59k)

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit.

The Trouble with Wanting by waldorph (E, 60k)

Draco Malfoy is cleared of all charges; this is what happens next.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

There Is Always the Moon by @firethesound (T, 159k)

Draco's life after the war is everything he wanted it to be: it's simple, and quiet, and predictable, and safe. But when a mysterious curse shatters the peace he'd worked so hard to build, there's only one person he can trust to help him. After all, Harry Potter has saved his life before. Now Draco has to believe that Potter will be able to do it one more time.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Let’s talk about the ghost of Gary Lester

You know, if the ghosts are still following around John Constantine, Danny Fenton would fucking hate the guy

Danny Phantom is a kids show, the morality of it is a lot simpler than the very dingy grey that Hellblazer is painted with. Sure Danny has moments where he has to learn to not use his powers for selfish gains, but let’s talk about the ghost of Gary Lester aka Gaz

Spoilers for issues 1 and 2 of Hellblazer, that’s right we’re going back to the beginning.

A little background on Gaz: childhood friend of John’s, dropped out of art school and started Mucus Membrane with John and becoming part of the “Newcastle crew” before the events at the Casanova club which he was present for. Sometime during the 80’s he became a heroin addict before the events of 88 that resulted in his death

Now what killed Gaz? Short answer is John. Longer answer is Gary accidentally unleashed an “African hunger spirit” on New York by deciding to ship a glass bottle with the thing trapped in it to John’s apartment in New York, resulting in it getting smashed in transport unleashing a threat of mass possession on one of the largest population centers in the world, a spirit that would consume its many many hosts resulting in the potential death of MILLIONS

John, putting the needs of the many ahead of the needs of the few, enlisted the help of Papa Midnight to trap the spirit in Gaz.

The sprit devoured Gaz from the inside, a process that lasted hours and hours of screaming before Gaz was devoured and the spirit devoured itself

Meanwhile John stayed by the entire time, there for every painful moment until the end. He did that, and he did that to his friend. There was a hell of a good reason for it, but he still did that to his friend

Yet John stayed the entire time

Gaz then joined the ghosts the followed John, becoming a reoccurring symbol for the price John’s friends pay

People around John get hurt, and it’s often his fault

And I think that’s what the truly interesting thing about Danny vs John. They both try to do good but others tend to pay the price for John. Meanwhile Danny would sacrifice himself long before sacrificing his friends. Danny hasn’t had to deal with quite the same moral choices John has, and I don’t think canon Danny is really at a place where he could understand what it’s like to make those choices

An older more mature Danny might, a very traumatized Danny might or might not, but base Danny would be unable to understand sacrificing his friend at all. Did it save millions of people? yes, but Danny is not the person that has had to make that difficult choice

And so literally learning this from the ghost that embodies John making that very choice would not endear John to Danny

[cevansbrat0007]

Would you say growing pains Andy is dark or is he more Grey? I LOVEEEE HIM

If I had to choose, I'd have to say that Andrew Barber is gray. Afterall, his world is all about navigating through shades of gray. While he doesn't necessarily believe in doing everything by the book, he does like rules.

Especially his own.

Andy craves order. He needs discipline. And, most of all, he desires your submission.

He doesn't make friends easily because he doesn't always play well with others. But once that man lets you in, the moment he deems you worthy of belonging in his circle, he is loyal to a fault.

Andrew thought his life was over until he met you. He'd lost everything - his son, his ex-wife, his only shot at happiness. But then he saw you from across the bar, laughing with your friend. For a moment he was convinced that you were too beautiful to be real.

He knew right then that you were going to be his - that he would be willing to do anything to keep you. To hold on to the woman who single-handedly brought color back into his life.

Which also means that he can occasionally be a little...overprotective. He's also got a quick temper, which rounds out his jealous and territorial streak rather well.

But at the end of the day, he loves you - the one woman who colors his entire goddamned world.

[flurry-of-beaus-pop-pop]

Listen, I understand and respect the fact that Matt and Critical Role are trying to do something different with Campaign 3... they're trying to keep it exciting and keep viewers invested and you can't fault them for that.

That being said, I feel like they're trying to do TOO much.

One of Matt's greatest talents as a DM is allowing the story to go where the story needs to go and making adjustments on his end, but with Campaign 3, it feels more and more like there is an idea in his head on how he wants this campaign to go and it's stunting the natural development of other possibilities.

Last night is the perfect example, in my opinion... I have zero issues with a shift to the focus on the Crown Keepers with the eventual goal of them connecting with the Bells Hells, however, last night was not the night to do it.

FCG just died, and the party needed time to be sad and focus on that and instead, we get a sudden party switch. I understand that this may have been planned far in advance of last week's episode, but if the story wasn't in a place that made this switch appropriate at this point in time, adjustments needed to be made.

It definitely makes me more convinced that this campaign is setting up something specific, either a new system for campaign 4 or a new world/era for campaign 4, but whatver it is, this campaign just needs the space to breathe rather than there always being something needing to happen.

Some of the best moments from C1 and C2 were when there WASN'T plot and the party was allowed to fill that space with what they needed. We haven't really seen that this campaign

[voids-colourful-creations]

Take it With You -- A Pearlina Fic

[Read on Ao3!]

Rated: T Relationships: Pearl/Marina Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion Content Warnings: Standard Octarian Propaganda stuff, Knives in kitchen context. Words: 3.8k

Summary: Even after all the time she's spent up here, there's still more than a few things Marina finds strange about Inklings. Even when she thinks she understands everything, Pearl finds a way to flip her world upside down. (Now that Pearl knows everything Marina's been hiding, maybe that's fitting.)

--

Inklings were… strange, in their pride. It was one of the things Marina found herself endeared by from the start. 
When she’d been in training, when she’d been working, designing— it was all in service of the Greater Goal. The work had been glorious, their task virtuous… but the technicians? Their value was defined by what they could produce, for the sake of their future. 


Inklings weren’t like that, and Marina was enthralled. Oh, they were vain and selfish, she had known that from the start. Octolings were everything Inklings weren’t, Marina had heard growing up.

“There’s no in-between. You are one of us, a righteous Octoling soldier, and they are Inklings.”

Even the name itself was an insult, when spoken in the right mouth.

“Where they are lazy, we are diligent. Where they are scattered, unorganised and listless, we are driven, unified.”

Yes, yes, just as she’d been told.

But with laziness came freedom and relaxation. A lack of unity could just as easily been seen as a beautiful cocktail of different ideas and expressions.

Startlingly, Inklings were self assured. That, Marina hadn’t been prepared for. Inklings were bold and brash and bright. Inklings could be wrong , all the time, without a care in the world. They’d laugh and joke, no regard to their errors beyond a minor correction, if any. It took a while for it to sink in for Marina, but to be wrong was no failure, no stain on an Inklings pride. Shame instead, came in different ways. One’s appearance was important, as was skill in turf, general “vibes” so to speak. But mainly, an Inklings pride came in the same thing that drew Marina to them in the first place.

It was so starkly different to what she’d been accustomed to. A pride you chose for yourself? Unthinkable.

“You must wear everything you do with pride, ours is a noble cause, our work as a collective.”

The flooders weren’t Marina’s to be proud of, so much as her teams. Not that she was all too proud of those things nowadays…


To do whatever you want, whenever you want. There would be no one to answer to, and nothing to hide. Was that what it meant to be an Inkling? Everything about yourself was to be flaunted, everything you do something to be proud of, or at minimum entertained by.
 Inklings simply… did as they wanted. 


Pearl shone so brightly in that regard. She never apologised. She never backed down from her desires, from displaying herself in the most vivid manner possible. Pearl was always doing whatever she wanted, how she wanted, when she wanted. 
It was strange how Marina found she didn’t mind it, mainly. 
Inklings were selfish, yes, but Pearl was selfish in a way Marina couldn’t help but admire. And Pearl, her Pearl? Her selfishness was pure in the end. How could anyone fault her for living as she pleased? Even otherwise, it would be hypocritical to say a thing. At least, in Marina’s eye.

Wasn’t it her selfishness that pushed her here? The call for more, for the sun on her face and a thousand new colours she’d never seen before?

That same selfishness caused her to be ever enthralled by Pearl’s own. 
All’s to say, Marina had seen Pearl apologise maybe twice in the three years she’d known her. Always a casual, though sincere thing, quick and easy and done.

That’s all there was to it… but .

Now, Pearl knelt at Marina’s feet. Head down, voice muffled, the only words she spoke were simple.

“I’m sorry.”

At that moment, the first thought that struck Marina hit her straight through the chest.

“Oh. She really means it.”

Quickly followed, naturally, by Marina’s own flustering reply.

“W-what for? Pearlie, stand up, it’s– what are you saying? Come inside at least!”

Tentacles brushing against the door frame, Pearl looked up to meet Marina’s eyes. Despite this, her posture remained the same, body pressed against the floor.

The edges of sunrise settled on her back, lighting her up in rosy hue. Had it really been that long? A full day then, since Eight had surfaced– 24 hours. Marina could’ve sworn it hadn’t been that late she’d been working, but the night was quickly slipping away from her grasp.

Pearl didn’t say anything, biting the edge of her lip. Slowly, she brought herself up to standing, though wavering still in the doorway.

Despite her height, Pearl’s figure shielded Marina from what little sun shone in. A soft ring of light surrounded her, blurry at the edges.

“You sure?” Pearl asked, tentative.

Marina opened the door wider, as far as it would go.

“Come in, let’s... let’s talk over breakfast.”

***

The kettle hissed and whined on the counter, but Pearl remained silent, perched up on the bar stool at Marina’s kitchen island. Marina busied herself, fretting around this way and that. A fruit might’ve been good, if she had any left that weren’t starting to rot. Maybe some muffins were left over? No, all gone…

The past few days had been a whirlwind, As Eight grew closer and closer to the surface, Marina’s time became more and more consumed by her rescue.

Now, she could breathe easy knowing Eight was breathing fresh air. That she’d made it safely, fully and completely free. With their dedication, all of theirs, Eight was safe. Inkopolis was safe.

...But Marina’s kitchen hadn’t been quite as lucky.

Tip-toeing around the counters, Marina swept up crumbs and shuffled about cutlery, trying to make things look ever so slightly more presentable. It helped very little, but at least Pearl would see her making an effort? The last thing she wanted was to look lazy in front of her...

Pulling open the fridge, she fished out the last two apples, and set them on the island behind her. She shut the door with her body, leaning against it as she moved towards the drawers. From the top, she retrieved two knives, serrated. From the second, a large wooden cutting board, heavily marred with jagged lines.

These followed the apples, gently set down beside them.

Dragging over another stool, Marina sat herself across from Pearl, pulling the basket of oranges set on the table's edge between them.

“Alright.” She said, taking a deep breath, “How about you take the oranges, and I’ll cut up the apples?”

Pearl nodded, quiet, and took an orange from the basket, alongside one of the knives.

Content, Marina took the remaining knife, and placed her apple down on the cutting board.

“So...” Marina began, carefully cutting her apple exactly in two, “What’s wrong?”

Pearl seemed startled for a moment, tearing her eyes away from the orange and over to Marina.

“What?”

“...Inklings don’t usually come apologising on hand and knee at daybreak because things are going peachy,” Marina said, ‘and you don’t usually come apologising at all.’ She thought, but kept the rest of it to herself.

From the way Pearl shifted in her seat, Marina almost wondered if she’d heard it anyway.

“I... it was just– Earlier, there was more important shit goin’ on. With Eight, and all the helicopters and... you get it.”

Marina nodded quietly. Methodically, she began to slice her apple halves into thirds, a total 6 pieces.

“But I wasn’t gonna just... Worm my way outta apologisin’!” Pearl’s thumb dug into the slit in the orange she’d created, tearing open a seam.

“For what?” Marina asked, voice faint.

Pearl made a quiet noise, neither a groan nor a breath. Just something… caught. By now, a sense of dread had begun pooling in the back of Marina's throat. She could tell where this was going, but she was still hoping she might be wrong. If she played dumb, then luck might favour her. She could delay this a little longer.

“For chattin’ ‘bout you with Cap while ya weren’t there.”

Just a little longer... even a few more moments.

“And lookin’ through that file,”

Even if she’s only lying to herself, only pretending things could stay the same...

“Digging into all your past junk. Everythin’ you didn’t wanna tell me ‘bout.”

Please, don’t say any more. Don’t say it.

“Finding out you’re an Octoling. And that you used to be in the military, I guess? And all of it. I really am sorry, Marina.”

Ahh...

Now she’d done it. The facts spilled out and sticky, laying on the table between the apples and the oranges.

No more going back.

“You’re sorry?” Marina asked quietly. She pulled an apple slice forward, singling it out from the rest. Cupping it in her palm, she began to score the surface of the skin.

“Hell you take me for?! ‘Course I am! I’d already made up my mind I wasn’t gunna go digging into ya shit if you weren’t gonna tell me yourself, then I find out all this stuff anyway. I shoulda kept my mouth shut or sumthin’.”

Marina shook her head, tentacles bouncing lightly.

“No, no, that’s-- I can’t blame you for that. You weren’t digging into anything, it all just kind of... happened.”

Pearl rolled her eyes.

“Sure, I guess. Feels like ya cutting me way too much slack.”

Chunks of orange peel began to pile up on the counter, Pearl’s peeling the furthest thing from even.

“I couldn’t… It wouldn’t be fair to blame you for that. Not for just… reading the information you were given. I- you don’t have to worry about it.” Marina’s voice had grown to a whisper, somewhere along the way.

“I wasn’t worried ‘bout that!” Pearl bit back, a frustration audibly growing in her throat as she half rose out of her seat. Calming herself just as quick, she sat back down, “Gaah, you’re so off. You’re too nice, ‘Rina… It wasn’t that. I just…”

Pearl sighed, dropping her partially peeled orange onto the counter. She leaned over the table, propping herself up by the elbows and leaning her head in her hands. Staring towards the marble countertop, puddles of orange juice reflected her expression.

“You were so skittish when we met. Can’t tell if ya remember that. Back when you were new here, new to the fucking– surface, I guess. Cod… You were so eager to learn about all my shit, everything about Inkopolis and Inklish and whatever junk. But whenever I asked you about your stuff, your town or family or whatever…”

Pearl’s palms shifted forward, covering her face as she finished speaking.

“Your expression… it broke all my hearts, I guess. Like, a little sad and sorta scared? I hated it every time. I never wanted to make you feel like that, so I just– stopped asking. Was never my business anyway.”

Pearl took a deep breath, pulling her hands back to reveal her face once more. She looked over towards Marina, seeking her eyes. Marina remained focused on the apple slices in her palms.

“I meant what I said an’ all.” Pearl continued, “Back in the chat with Cuttlefish, but like… when we met, too. I don’t care where you’re from or what you’ve done. But still, I’m sorry. For finding everything out that you didn’t want me to know.”

Marina cradled an apple slice in one palm, carefully running the knife up under its skin.

“It— it’s not like I didn’t want you to know, exactly… It’s just…”

She trailed off again. The feeling infuriated her even as the words remained caught on the tip of her tongue.

“’S’cool.” Pearl mumbled, “I get it an’ all. It’s my bad anyway, even if I don’t know what I did exactly. Just… I’m sorry— ”

The strain of the past few days was audible, Pearl’s voice unable to withstand the weight of her words.

“I’m sorry you didn’t think you could trust me with this.”

With that, finally, Pearl was entirely silent, satisfied.

The orange lay long forgotten on the table.

“I trust you!” Marina pleaded, her voice cracking ever slightly, “Pearlie, I promise I do.”

Her fruit was quickly abandoned, callously dropped from her hand as Marina reached across the table. Towards Pearl’s hands, towards Pearl .

“You don’t have to!” Pearl replied, but it sounded less confident than she had hoped.

“You don’t have to,” She repeated. “I just… never wanted to make you feel like you couldn’t— ”

“Pearl! ”

Marina snatched up Pearl’s hands, yanking them close. Pearl jolted forward, nearly bumping heads with Marina over the table.

“I never thought I couldn’t trust you. It isn’t your fault. It’s all mine.”

Pearl only looked at her, face unreadable.

Marina squeezed Pearl’s hands for a moment.

“At first, I just didn’t know how to say it. Forget the right way to explain, I could barely string an Inklish sentence together properly! But after that, I started to… I started putting things off. I was never scared of what you would say, Pearlie… I was scared– I.”

Marina grit her teeth, looking away from Pearl’s face and downwards. Staring at the discarded fruits on the table, she whispered,

“I guess I was scared of me.”

She didn’t look up at Pearl, but she felt her grasp tightening, a deep tug at her. Pearl remained silent, as Marina began to speak again.

“Seeing everything up here, being up here, with you and the light and everyone. It felt so fresh. Inklings invent themselves again and again, everyday! We— I never thought I had that, I guess. It felt like a dream, becoming someone entirely new. Someone loved for her music , someone who spent every day in the sunlight, someone who was partners with someone like you…”

Marina teared her eyes away from the table, and back towards Pearls. If Pearl saw the tears edging Marina’s eyes, she didn’t say anything.

“If I told you everything, I’d break what I built here. I’d have to admit everything I was, everything I did. A-And not just that… I didn’t want you to pity me. I didn’t know if Inkopolis would still like me, if I would even be safe…”

Marina’s breath hitched for a moment, but her words just kept tumbling out of her mouth without her even thinking.

“Once you leave, you can’t ever go back. I betrayed everyone by leaving, my friends, my family, all of them. And the worst part is I would do it again, without a second thought. But even if I knew you would stand by me, no matter what… I just didn’t know if I could, too. I’m sorry, Pearl.”

Marina heard her hearts pounding in her ears louder than anything else, all her words coming out in a rush. Everything she’d been afraid of saying aloud, of even thinking about for so long; everything all unravelled before the sun had even fully risen.

She took a breath, focusing on the feeling. Absentmindedly, her fingers stroked Pearls, still held in her grasp. Pointed tips skimmed against blunt edges.

“Cod, ‘Rina… how long have you been holdin’ onto that? Well, actually never mind, I get it. Just...”

Pearl’s fingers ran along Marina’s, repeating her motions back to her.

“You know I’ll accept ya, no matter what. But that’s not ‘cuz like, I think you’re some perfect angel, or something. Where ya came from, what you’ve done, that shit matters , yeah? But like, it matters cause it’s part of you. And I love you. So it’s… fuck, I’m not good at this kinda thing.”

Pearl bit her lip, pulling Marina in closer.

“It’s just you at the end of the day. I like the you in front of me the best outta all of them. I like that you’re a perfectionist, even if I also kinda hate it sometimes. I wanna know shit about ya, cause it’s you. But you’re still fucking you , even if you’ve done a bunch of stuff, or been through a bunch of stuff. Probably both. You’re still my ‘Rina, who has awful taste in movies and drools when she sleeps, even if you were ‘Combat Engineer Iida’ before.”

Marina leaned in further, closing the gap and pressing her head against Pearl’s, eyes closed.

“And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t care if it’s selfish, I want you up here with me , making music and goofing off. If your family and friends are anywhere near as nice as you, I bet they’re glad for ya. That you’re up here, doing what ya want and being happy. …I mean I think you’re happy? I hope so.”

Pearl sighed, and Marina could feel the air brushing against her face.

“If you don’t think you can forgive yourself, you don’t haveta. I’ll always love ya enough for us both. I think Lil’ ‘Rina deserves to catch a break though, so maybe give her that. If it wasn’t for her, I mean, I never would’ve gotten to meet the you I have today. And you today is fucking awesome, so she must’ve done something right.”

And that was what ended up breaking Marina, so when the tears began to streak down her face she was so close against Pearl’s that they ran down hers too.

“Aw ‘Rina,” Pearl murmured, “That can’t be the thing I say that makes you cry, that’s gotta be one of the lamest compliments I’ve ever given you…”

Marina laughed, still slightly starved for air, still crying. She pulled back, leaning away from the table.

Pearl mirrored her, a soft smile on her face.

Without words, she opened her arms up, inviting Marina closer.

Stumbling slightly as she slid off her stool, Marina tiptoed around the island. Gently, she walked into Pearl’s awaiting arms, still standing as Pearl perched on the seat. As Marina made contact, Pearl’s arms pulled her in close and tight.

Marina rested her head on Pearl’s shoulder, and Pearl tilted her head against Marina’s.

“Thank you,” Pearl whispered in Marina’s ear, “For telling me that. You never have to but— thank you.”

Marina squeezed her tighter.

“Oh, Pearlie… I really never wanted to hide it all from you. But I wouldn’t trade being up here, being with you— not for anything. And if being on the surface means letting go of my history, I was more than ready… if I can only have one, I chose you.”

Pearl scoffed, warm breath against Marina’s back.

“Well that’s stupid, who told you ya had to do that? ”

Marina suddenly froze.

Who had told her that? Who had gotten it so ingrained in her mind, created this inalienable truth?

It had been just another part of growing up, hadn’t it? A fact as true as the cruelty of Inklings, the unobtainable sun.

But a stream of sunlight glittered through Marina’s window just to get in her eyes. Pearl's grip around her was warm and comforting.

It wasn’t true, was it?

“No one, I guess. Or everyone. Inklings and Octolings are just… too different… they don’t mix. You were either a noble Octarian working for the cause or… or…”

And she’d known it, all along she’d known, but never before had she really said it aloud. Let herself believe it.

“Or you were against them. A traitor.”

The words she’d been afraid of didn’t sound scary anymore. Even as she spoke them, Marina didn’t find herself believing them.

Pearl laughed, sharp and biting.

“The biggest thing you could do to betray them would be to go against that black-n-white style in the first place. We got a whole rainbow of colours to work with!”

And Marina knew it, because she'd truly seen light for the first time when she’d come here. But Pearl had been the first person to really show her a rainbow.

Overcome with emotion, Marina lifted Pearl right into the air, still clinging onto her tightly.

“Whoa– ‘Rina!”

On instinct, Pearl clung tighter, wrapping her legs around Marina’s waist. In tandem, the tentacles on Marina’s head enveloped around Pearl, winding around to support her back.

“You are nothing like they said you would be,” Marina said, smiling down at Pearl.

“Hard to capture this much greatness in words, I know,” Pearl smiled back.

A beat. Only the call of birds in the distance as the sun crept further into view. The rhythm of heartbeats, 6 all in unison.

“We alright?” Pearl asked.

“We’re all right. We’re wonderful.” Marina replied.

Pearl sighed heavily in relief.

“Well thank Cod for that. Don’t know what I woulda done if I’d really hurt ya like that.”

Marina’s smile shifted to a smirk.

“Mm~? Cried maybe?”

Pearl blushed ever slightly, ink crowding her face before she could hide it. She tore her gaze from Marina’s.

“Nu-uh! Don’t say that, you’ll ruin my image.”

Marina spun around in place, twirling Pearl along with her.

“Hmm~?” Marina said, bouncing on her heels, “I think you’ve already done quite a bit of that yourself, no? I mean, apologising to me on hand and knee right at sunrise?”

Pearl shrugged.

“That’s the way Octolings do it, ain’t it? Or did Cap steer me wrong?”

Marina leaned forward, kissing Pearl on the forehead.

“Exactly how we do it.”

Pearl tilted her head up, pecking Marina on the cheek as she pulled back from her own kiss.

“You know me, always acin’ it first try.”

Marina’s tentacles wrapped around Pearl tighter, bringing her in ever closer.

“Wanna put that to the test? Now that everything’s out in the open, there’s a million things I’ve got to share with you~”

“Mm, looking forward to it. But uh… first… Much as I hate to say it,” Pearl glanced over towards the island.

Long since abandoned orange pieces lay atop one another in a pile, alongside half carved apple sea-bunnies. Apple and orange blended together into a sizable lake of juice on Marina’s kitchen island.

“Should we finish up all… that?”

Marina took in the mess on the counter, surveying it alongside the general disarray of her kitchen.

Dust particles sparkled slightly as they drifted through the air, gliding through a beam of light coming in through the kitchen window. Pearl shifted slightly, holding onto Marina tightly with seemingly no intent of leaving her arms soon.

“Let’s leave it. I’m sure Eight would appreciate some company for their first proper breakfast on the surface. We can introduce them to waffles.”

Pearl sighed contently, “Sounds good to me. But let’s be real, Eight definitely gonna be a pancake kind of gal.”

“Ha! You wish. We’ll just have to get both and let her choose.”

“Should we throw some toast in there to be safe?”

“Let’s give ‘em a full buffet! Bring Cap and Three along too, it’ll be fun.”

Words exchanged and punctuated with laughter echoed in the apartment as Marina and Pearl headed out the door, Pearl still clinging onto Marina just for the hell of it. A vibrant selection of colour danced across the early morning sky as they proceeded out, a dozen hues of pinks, purples and oranges. Ebbing and flowing, no colour stayed quite the same for long, all mixing and merging before streaking out in distinct colours. Climbing ever higher, the sun cast brightly upon a new morning in Inkopolis.

As Marina and Pearl headed out to greet it they left discarded fruit and cutlery in their wake, alongside a singular, merged shadow.

[End]