#hwas!morphs

[itstheghostofmypast]

Winter of Woe

Idol Park Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: Winter had always left him cold and bitter, sprint had always been his season, yet, when it became too much, his spring had decided to walk back into his life, on that cold, dark winter night

Genre: Angst/ Comfort (kinda open-ended?)

Warnings: None

Ratings: SFW

Word Count: 2.5K

Est.Read Time: 12 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Winter was never one of his favourite seasons, yet, it was one of the seasons that would help him numb out anything that dared to bother him. The nights would fall too early, and the sky would never be a shade of pastel so pretty, but a blanket of grey loomed over them, over him. The nights would be long, would be cold and eerily silent, quiet enough for the unspoken words of his to resurface, wrapping around his torso, slowly squeezing the life out of him- but the nights would be chilly, freezing and cold, enough to paralyse the words, mute them out by the chattering of his teeth, pricking his bones that were covered in flesh and supposedly warm wool.

The nights were welcoming enough to give him the solitude he needed after a tiring day, a tiring session of socialising, of smiling, pretending everything was as it was supposed to be, as it should have been- or so he had begun to tell himself more often than he would like to admit. Perhaps this started as soon as their break was announced, where all had chosen to retreat to their little dens, their homes, cosy and warm, yet, he had decided to stay behind, wanting to remain in isolation, away from his loved ones. Perhaps it was an act of redemption, of punishing himself, of constantly reminding himself of his past regrets, his mistakes, his anger, his repressed hatred towards himself, his-

"Hwa?" 

The faint voice of an angel rang through his ears like church bells, it had been a while since he had the honour of hearing the voice of his- no, not his, she was no longer his angel, he had made sure of that, perhaps that is why he felt so bitter towards this season, he had left her cold and shivering with the chill.

"Hey..." his whisper morphing into a puff, floating between the two as he stared down at her, drinking in her appearance, eyes roaming her face like a map learnt by heart, taking in her essence, her being.

"How have you been?" She smiled, pulling down her mask and moving a cup of coffee closer to him, "Here."

"I'm better..." he sighed, only to pause and stare at the coffee, eyes flickering back up to her, somewhat disturbed about how she was easily pretending as if nothing had happened, though he was conflicted, maybe this was better than her bringing up the past, but was she following him? Or perhaps this coffee was-

"Better is good, Hwa... oh the coffee- I got stood up.... shouldn’t have bought the coffee while waiting for him." She cleared her throat, before averting her gaze, arm still extended as she offered him the second cup. Honestly, she was already down in the dumps, rejections were never easy, break ups were even worse -she'd know- but being stood up was like you failed to pass a test, so unworthy that no one could even spare a glance at you, so if he were to reject the coffee right now, she probably would break down right in front of him.

"Thanks..." 

The brush of his cold fingertips sent a shiver down her spine, her eyes flickering up to meet his, staring up at him with some form of admiration, one that he did not believe he deserved- after all those years, he was still the same, the same coward who was too afraid to love her, the same hideous being who was unworthy of her, the same man who she had devoted all her love to, yet he had decided to let go of her hand when the times got a bit too rough.

"You've grown prettier." She sighed, a gentle smile gracing her features as she walked beside him, the crunch of the snow beneath their boots constantly reminding him to take the next step beside her. Her words hung between them, perhaps a dead weight, perhaps the deceased memories of them together- maybe she shouldn't have called him out. Maybe he wanted to spend time alone, maybe he didn't want to see her again, maybe-

"You should make him pay you back..." 

"Huh?" Turning to face him, cup in lap she blinked at his side profile, taking in his beauty, his grace, his masculine charm, as he sat there staring at the coffee in his hands, gripping onto it for his dear life. "What...do you mean?"

"You should...make him pay you back..." Taking another gulp of the warm beverage he sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the bench, wondering why she even bothered to call him out, especially when he was the one to pull away first.

“It's fine…not the first time I’ve been ghosted.”

His eyes shot open at that statement finally turning to meet her tender gaze, one that held no ounce of anger or resentment, but one with a swirling curiosity, and a twinge of woe, but it was enough for him to break eye contact, choosing not to continue, for any moment longer and his resolve may shatter-

“Why…did you do it?”

Her words were gentle, but the impact was worse than being stabbed, the way her hand rested on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze, “I just…I just want to know…if I did something to upset you…you just disappeared.” She had moved a bit closer to him, it had been so long since she had even heard from him, sure, she had heard and seen the content of their group, but him, no- not in person, not like this. She was unsure of what had happened, what had she done for him to slip out of her life like that, for him to show up at her door in the middle of a winter night, much like this one, with swollen eyes and a stuttering tongue, uttering the three words she had never wished to hear, “Let’s break up.”

Truth be told, she had spent the whole night wondering about the possibilities that could have led to this unfortunate scenario, even asked Hongjoong if it was a decision made by the company, to which he had refused, saddened by the news, but he had told her this was a decision his friend had taken on his own. She had tried calling him a few times but he had texted her to not do so anymore, and if there was one thing she had learnt about her lover, it was that he was always very clear with what he wanted, and when he wanted- perhaps, he no longer wanted her?

She would’ve believed that, truly, but something at the back of her mind kept bothering her, perhaps she no longer wanted him back, but felt that she had the right to know what had led a long-term relationship to end poorly- closure, that is what she wanted, that is why she had called him out after years of seeing him, calling him out before she could even think of what to say next, calling him out after another date where she was stood up, calling him out before he could walk away again. This was probably why she sat here, basking in his presence, pleading with him to at least give her a simple liner that she could take as an explanation, “I…I just need to know…what it was, I promise…I’ll leave after…Hwa.”

“How could I love someone, when I couldn’t even love myself.”

The world around them had come to a standstill, silent as the calm sea, cold as the ice, as heavy as the heart of a widow, the two stared at each other; confused, conflicted, angry, upset and…in love. For the first time now, he had looked at her properly, had given her a proper reaction, and shown her the bits that he’d often hide, the bits that made him human, the bits that made him, her Hwa. From the way his bottom lip quivered to the way his eyes teared up at her, face contorting as if he were in pain- he was- and for some melancholic, sadistic reason, it made her frail heart flutter, her heart giggling in joy to see him like this, not in spite, no, never, but in the aspiration of there being traces of love with the empty confines of his heart, hidden in the cracks, asleep in patience and sorrow, waiting for the time it could spill out again.

“Hwa…” her words were soft, cupping his cheek, feeling the warmth of it buzzing against her cold palm, thumb caressing the skin, smearing the wet trail left behind by his tears, sighing as she moved closer, enough for them to be sharing body warm, her thigh pressing against his, coffee long forgotten as she cupped his face with both hands, tilting his face to admire him, “Why didn’t you say so…do you think I wouldn’t have given you space?”

“It’s…not about space.” He hissed, gently gripping her wrists to remove her hands from his face- what was he still fighting? At this point, he wasn’t sure, but he knew, he knew for a fact, that he was not going to let her forgive him so easily. As if he had not just tossed her aside when his own insecurities began to nip a bit too close to home when he knew that even though his own mind was against his being, the person he had given his heart to would carefully hold it in her palm, all warm and snug until he was ready to be let out to the world- no, he did not deserve this, he did not deserve her, “I…did not deserve you, your love…your admiration and sincerity, especially when I was unable to truly reciprocate it with the sincerity that yours held.”

She let him remove her hands, watching him closely, nodding to his words, words that once again hinted about how their ends perhaps may be split by fate, yet, she noticed how his grip on her had tightened, not wanting to let her go, ready to fight fate- maybe this was what he lacked the last time, the will to fight, perhaps because he had given up on himself as well, a dilemma so strong that her presence was merely a representation of the sun, and he, Icarus, knew that his wings could not take him up to her- but what if this time, she came to him? All she asked for in return was to be acknowledged, to be treated not like the holy sun, but the silent listener, the moon, the watcher, the companion on lonesome nights, ever so silent, ever so loyal, ever so loving.

“Do you still feel the same way-” she whispered, only for him to cut her off, letting go of her to furiously rub away any proof of his sorrows and regret, oh how it broke her to see him like this, so confused and in shambles.

“Of course! I don’t deserve you-”

“About yourself, Hwa…do you think you now love yourself enough to share that love with someone else, enough to let someone else love you?” gripping his wrists she pulled his hands away from his face, giving him a squeeze, enough to have him gulping at her, her gentle face, her determined eyes, her confident aura, having his throat parch up at the realization, one that he had buried in the crevices of his heart, burying it with everything he could find, every distraction, every wish, every whim- everything that could never measure up to her, the need of having her in life, the want of her near him. No one had asked him that before, no one had wondered if he now loved himself enough, thought of himself to be important enough to be even considered human, to be considered worthy enough of having his own choices, his own opinions, his own story- no one had asked him if he was his heart had begun to beat for himself, to not only keep him functioning but to keep him alive.

“I…think so…I hope so.” He whispered, unsure of where this was going, honestly, this was too much to take in one go anyway, with her popping up out of the blue, coming to him on a night so long, a night so cold, a night so much like the one on which he had left her broken and confused.  He watched her smile at him, staring up at her when she stood up, only he had remained rooted in place, blinking ever so slowly at her, as his guardian angel knelt closer to his sitting form, pressing her warm lips against his cheek, before whispering something to him.

 Slowly pulling away she gave him one last smile, caressing his buzzing, warm, soft cheek with her knuckles, making sure to leave him craving for more, wanting more, as he watched her walk away into the night. Watching her walk away into the cold of the night, with her, was her warmth and love, resonating from her being, melting any and everything around her into spring, much like the spring he had confessed to her in, the spring when he was a wee lad on the with one foot into the doorstep of stardom and another in her world, pulling her across with a loving, yet firm grip, making she stood strong on the same ground as he did- only, for him to lose his footing, in the process of which he had unknowingly let go of her hand, letting her slip through his fingers. And when she had reached down to pull him up from the pits of his own defeat and sorrows, he had pulled back, turning away to let it all envelope him in its numbing hold, rather than embracing her warmth and love- perhaps he was afraid her love may melt away the numbness, sprouting out everything that he lay within the frozen layer of his masculinity, or what he once assumed was the definition of masculinity. He watched her till she was out of sight, but not out of mind, she was far in being, but close and well seated within his heart- a new profound emotion coursing through his veins, with fireworks booming within his system as his whole being lit on fire, fingers gripping the paper cup with as tight as he wanted to hold her close to him, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt his mind run on overdrive, constantly repeating her words in his head, leaning back against the bench as he closed his eyes, smiling at the possibility that awaited, not the boy that was too afraid of his own demons to look past them to the angel that stood across, but the man who was ready to push past his demons to finally let his angel save him.

“Then…when you do…and if you do, find it in within you, to love me again, and you feel safe enough to let me…love you, I need you to know I’ll be waiting for you.”

A/N: I cant do angst with a sad endings. Im sorry

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie

@mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

[thetypingpup]

Mommy!hwa where the sweeter he gets, the harder he fucks you. The more he praises you, the harder he rams his cock into you, responding to your whimpers with feral intent. When he caresses your face and calls you his good girl, and when you moan out mommy all cutely like that, oh he can't help but drive himself deeper into your pussy, fucking your pussy harder to make you cry out for him. Tears of pleasure prick at your eyes as he presses against that tender spot deep inside of you each and every time, grabbing and pawing at his arms. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close while he rocks your body.

"Fuck you're so cute baby..."

So cute I can't help but fuck you harder, but the latter half of his words morph into a growl of delight as you clench around him.

"Oh you like that?" He teases, knowing that all you can do is pant and moan in response, "You like the sound of mommy's voice?"

You whine mindlessly in response, eyes already starting to roll back. He leans in, purposefully deepening his voice to a sensual snarl as he hums in your ear, "Aw, can you even hear me right now, or are you too busy going dumb on mommy's dick? Does it feel that good baby?"

You mewl loudly, a scream breaking off the edge of your sounds into brittle cries of bliss. He caresses your face as you tremble beneath him, your legs shaking with the effort to keep your legs open for him.

He soothes you with gentle kisses to your temple and filthy words rasped in your ear, "Shh baby, you don't need to talk. You don't need to do anything but be a good girl and let mommy fuck that pretty pussy of yours. Can you do that baby girl?"

You nod fervently, clenching around him so hard that he can't help but pin your wrists to the bed with a groan and grind his cock deep inside you. You arch up against him at the shift in angle, feeling pleasure burst from your centre more intensely than before. Your hips jerk and buck against him as your orgasm completely takes over, your entire body convulsing as a torrent of euphoria consumes you. The whole time you're cumming, you can't stop crying out for your mommy, who smirks as he keep relentlessly fucking his pretty girl. Such a pretty girl, but such a needy slut for your mommy.

[mirisss]

Haunting Shadows prequel

Vampire! Mafia! Ateez OT8 x afab! reader

Wordcount ≈ 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of weapons, blood, violence, mentions of someone being unalived, being chased, involuntarily put to sleep, I think that’s it, 

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! I wrote it at 4 am when I couldn’t sleep so the ending isn’t the best. 

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

In a deep dark alley, somewhere downtown. A group of six men gathered around a seventh man lying on the ground. The man on the ground tried to shield himself from the haunting red glowing eyes staring down at him. The blood-red eyes paired with the guns pointed in his direction, made him realize that he was not getting out of this alley alive. One of the six men took a step forward as two others seemed to appear out of nowhere, or rather, they seemed to be appearing from the shadows. The man who had stepped forward had red hair that almost seemed to glow but right in front of the scared man, the hair morphed from red to black and the facial features of the previous red-haired man changed too. He went from someone the scared man had never seen to someone he recognized quite well. 

“Hello, Lee Jaejoong,” Jaejoong tried to move backward but his back met with a wall stopping his tried escape. “Who are you?” The eight men around him all smirked, revealing sharp fangs, causing him to hold his breath. “My name is Wooyoung, and these are my blood brothers, you may know us as Ateez,” Jaejoong’s heart sank as he recognized the name, Ateez, the largest mafia in the country. Ateez, a mafia group known to not leave anyone who has wronged them alive. “Please, please, I’ll do anything, just please, don’t kill me,” A shorter man stepped forward, giving a silent cue to Wooyoung who immediately stepped back again. “Yeosang, are you sure he is the one?” “Yes, captain, his scent is a complete match to the blood we found,” “Jaejoong, Jaejoong, Jaejoong… mm… and here I thought our partnership was going so well but you just had to mess it up, what a shame” The one called captain, moved around a little while sending a terrifying glare to the man on the ground. “Yunho, Mingi, take care of him. Jongho, keep guard. Seonghwa, San. Go fetch the car, no need to waste any more time on this one,” “Hongjoong, captain, someone’s getting close,” 

It was around 10 pm when (Y/n) decided to leave the university library to head home. Her back hurt from crouching for a few hours, trying to study as much as she could for an upcoming exam. Only a few students were still around, most of them studying with a few just hanging out with their friends. (Y/n) walked along her usual path, soon approaching the part she hated walking by. It was a dark alley downtown. While she had never seen or heard anyone there, she always felt uneasy walking past it but there were no other paths she could walk to get home from uni so she couldn’t avoid it. She took up her phone, prepared to call for help should anything happen. 

For the first time, as (Y/n) came close to the alley she found a light coming from deep within the alley. Her unease increased, that could only mean that someone was down there, she thought. Just as (Y/n) came to the opening of the alley, she saw two dark figures walking in her direction as she heard a loud noise. It sounded frighteningly familiar to a gun being fired, followed by a scream. Or rather two screams. One from whoever was shot and one from (Y/n). 

(Y/n) ran as fast as she could away from the alley, continuing her way home. Hoping that whoever had been walking toward her from the alley wouldn’t follow her, but if they were following she hoped they wouldn’t be able to catch up with her. 

“Hongjoong, captain, someone’s getting close,” Hongjoong turned to Yeosang who looked worried after picking up an unfamiliar scent coming closer to them. “Hwa, San, check it out on your way,” “Yes, sir,” As they began walking away, they could make out the shape of a girl or woman in the distance. Just as they were within eyesight of the human, a gunshot rang through the alley followed by a scream that bounced off the walls out toward the road. Within a second, another scream resonated through the eight vampire’s ears. Seonghwa and San saw the human look at them and then run for their life away from them. “Catch her,” Seonghwa muttered to which San ran full speed after the human. 

(Y/n) was terrified as she heard loud footsteps in pursuit of her. Please, I don’t want to die, not like this. She was getting tired after running for a few minutes, not even the adrenaline pumping through could keep her going for much longer. (Y/n) turned her head to try and see just how close the person behind her was only to find no one, feeling hopeful she turned her head back thinking she was safe, only to see a man standing a few meters in front of her. He seemed completely unfazed while (Y/n) was panting loudly, coming to a complete stop only three steps away from the man. What the hell? How did he get in front of me? (Y/n)’s eyes shot open as wide as they could when she looked into the, very attractive, man’s eyes only to find them shifting from a deep brown to a glowing purple. 

San was surprised by the overwhelming warmth that emerged throughout his entire body when he met the human’s eyes. His sight disappeared for a second only to come back a bit hazy, a purple tint now colored the world. A tint he had experienced before when he first met the other seven vampires in his group. This human, was their final soulmate. The missing piece of their connection. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” (Y/n) didn’t know what to do, her legs felt weak from the running and suddenly her heart was beating fast not only from fear and the running, but from the way this man was looking at her. While his gaze was threatening, it didn’t seem malicious, no it seemed more like longing. Another pair of footsteps could be heard approaching from behind (Y/n), but she didn’t dare look away from the man in front of her. “San, what’s going on?” “Hwa-hyung, it’s her,” “I may be older than you but I am not dumb, obviously this is the one who overheard our business,” “No, hyung, I mean she’s the final one,” Seonghwa stared at San a bit confused, it wasn’t until Seonghwa looked at his younger soulmate’s eyes that he realized what he meant. “Our soulmate?” San couldn’t do more than give a slight nod in answer, to captivated by the woman in front of him. 

Seonghwa carefully approached the human and put his hand on her shoulder, applying a bit of pressure to turn her toward him. (Y/n) was surprised both by the action but also by the handsome face she was now only mere centimeters from. The deep brown eyes of this man also shifted into a purple color, making the human gasp. Seonghwa shivered from the feeling of experiencing the first look at his final soulmate. The vampire quickly gathered himself though, shaking away the lovesick feeling that had made San freeze. The purple color in his eyes slowly faded back to brown only to shift into a glowing red. Seonghwa looked deep into (Y/n)’s eyes before he whispered: Sleep. (Y/n) immediately felt drowsy as her legs grew even weaker and her eyelids grew heavy, before she knew it she faded into unconsciousness. Seonghwa captured her body as she fell asleep. “Let’s go to the others,” San had finally managed to shake away the shock and could finally move and think freely again. 

The two vampires didn’t make it far before their six other soulmates approached them with questioning looks as they noticed the unconscious woman in Seonghwa’s arms. “Boys, let me introduce you to our soulmate,” Mingi gasped loudly while Wooyoung shouted out of joy. Yunho and Jongho looked at each other with happy smiles as Hongjoong and Yeosang both only looked down at the woman. No one said anything more as they simply walked to their van, bringing the human with them to their home. 

When (Y/n) woke up she could barely recall anything from the night before. Her memory felt foggy, she remembered walking home from uni but somewhere in the middle of the walk, everything turned black. The bed she was sleeping on was unfamiliarly soft and big. (Y/n) sat up and tried to shake off the sleepiness to focus on her surroundings. She quickly realized that this was not her bedroom nor any room in her apartment nor was it any of her friend’s homes. Hell, this room was pretty much as big as her entire apartment. (Y/n) looked around for her phone as quietly as she could but to no avail, she couldn’t find it anywhere. 

“She’s awake,” Yeosang said as he walked into the kitchen where the other seven vampires were gathered. “Earlier than usual,” Yunho pointed out. “It might not have been as effective because of the mating bond,” Seonghwa responded, usually when he used his gift of absolute command the effect wouldn’t subside for at least 12 hours, especially not the sleep command. Yet this time, it had only worked for about 8 hours. “That’s most likely it, the mating bond is known to mess with the effectiveness of gifts,” Hongjoong said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Should we go meet her?” Mingi asked, quite excited to finally meet the missing piece of their bond. “Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho said excitedly. “Come on, I really want to see her,” Wooyoung whined, he was ready to break down the door just to see her. “Let’s do it,” Hongjong said, as the leader he was the one to have the final say on most decisions they made, though sometimes Seonghwa as the oldest would be the one in charge, it depended on the situation. 

The eight vampires walked toward the room in which (Y/n) was still trying to find her phone. She didn’t stop searching until she heard the door creaking as it opened. (Y/n) turned toward the door coming to face eight unfamiliar men, six out of these men caught her attention one by one as their eyes slowly blossomed from brown to purple. This awakened a memory from the prior night, brown eyes turning purple, she also faintly remembered something red too. It took her a few moments until everything came back to her. Walking home, seeing the alley being lit up, hearing a gunshot, screams, running, facing two of these eight men before becoming unconscious and waking up in the unfamiliar room. 

Hongjoong, Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho were all overcome with the euphoric feeling of meeting their soulmate. Seonghwa was the first to step into the room, a kind smile grazed his lips as he tried to make the human feel less scared. “I apologize about all of this, what happened yesterday and us barging in like this. All of it will make sense in a few moments if we may explain it to you,” He stopped speaking for a second, clearly indicating that he expected an answer from (Y/n) to his half-question-half-statement. (Y/n) didn’t dare deny it so she simply nodded her head. “Good, my name is Seonghwa, and you remember San from last night, the red-haired one is Wooyoung, the tall blonde one is Mingi, the other tall one is Yunho, the buff one is Jongho, this is Hongjoong our leader, and finally we have our handsome Yeosang. What is your name?” 

“I’m (Y/n),” (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice the fangs that protruded from Seonghwa’s mouth as he smiled and spoke. Eyes that turn purple and red, super speed or something like it, making me fall asleep just like that, fangs, soulmate… What kind of freaky fantasy book have I fallen into? Are they vampires? No way, right? “(Y/n), what a beautiful name,” Yunho said as he smiled brightly, showing his fangs which only confirmed (Y/n)’s delusional thought. “Are you vampires or am I going crazy?” They all chuckled at (Y/n)’s question, a little surprised that she had put it together so quickly. 

“You are correct, we are, indeed, vampires. And you dear (Y/n), are our soulmate,” Wooyoung said as he sent a wink her way as well as a beautiful smile, a smile that revealed yet another set of fangs to the human. (Y/n) just nodded before she turned her back to the men, counting her fingers to try and see if she was dreaming but she found 10 fingers confirming she was awake. She turned back to the alleged vampires. “Please explain all of this in detail because I still think I am asleep,” After a lengthy explanation and discussion on how they were vampires and what a soulmate meant with more. The nine soulmates began their relationship that would continue for eternity as (Y/n), even though she is human, was gifted immortality to be able to accompany her soulmates forever. 

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

Ok this is a question for the pack!

How would the pack react to see y/n flirting with a girl like sitting on each others lap, ass slaps, cheek kisses, compliments, etc. And like imagine the girl dedicating “Boyfriend” by dove Cameron to y/n!

The boys:😨

Y/n:🤭

"I mean," You laugh, shrugging. "I'm a pretty loyal hoe, so this situation is purely theoretical now that we're all mated."

"But." Minho pushes with a slight smirk.

You roll your eyes. "But." You shoot him a glare and a stick of your tongue. "There were times before we all knew what we were that I dated around yeah."

"She's leaving out the part where most of her past partners were really fucking hot women." Jisung complains, looking absolutely betrayed at the thought.

You grin innocently. "What can I say? I have good taste."

"Case in point." Hyunjin gestures down the length of his body.

You give him a wink. "Yep."

"Hwa was particularly hard to win over." Chan adds with a slight grimace.

"We're not talking about Seonghwa 'Hwa' here either." Changbin points out.

"No." Hyunjin shakes his head with an air of terror. "Hwasa."

Jisung visibly shudders. "She's terrifying." He seems to reconsider with a squint of his eyes. "But like, in a fucking hot kind of way."

"God, she hated most of our guts for a good fucking while." Chan winces, glancing sidelong at you.

You laugh at their visible horror of one of your best friends. "Listen, after we dated for awhile and broke up amicable, she just always wanted the best for me. Especially after we just sort of morphed into lifelong soulmates. Bitch is my ride or die."

"She was definitely a bitch in the beginning." Changbin mutters beneath his breath sourly, making you laugh.

Hyunjin smirks. "He's bristling over here just talking about this."

"Am not!" Changbin protests, a little too loudly, over the obvious smell of smoke.

"Listen, did she handle things well when I first started dating all of you? No." You admit with an easy smile and a pointed look in Changbin's direction. "She doubted all your intentions. She was just looking out for me. But now, everyone gets along just fine. Plus, she has Yong-Sun, and she's more than happy and committed."

"I love Hwasa-noona." Jeongin announces. "She's pretty and she's funny."

Felix grins. "You would. You both run on the same mischievous wave length."

"For what you're asking though-" You muse, giving Jeongin a secret little grin. "-she did pull shit like that when I first introduced her to some of the boys. We have a naturally flirty friendship anyway, but she turned up the heat when she met them."

"We were introduced in a club." Minho arches a brow, staring at you, thoughts flickering across his face. "Hwasa promptly took one look at Chan and Changbin and pulled you in for a kiss. With tongue."

You laugh. "And you weren't even bothered."

Minho snorts. "I knew it was a play. I've done the exact same thing before."

Jisung narrows his eyes. "Why have I never heard about this?"

Minho shrugs casually, glancing back to you. "Plus it was hot."

"Chan choked on his drink." You giggle, and Chan rolls his eyes. "And Changbin was so worked up I swore he was going to kill her right then and there."

"She wasn't worried, clearly." Minho remarks with a knowing smirk. "Because she completely ignored them both and asked me if I wanted to join the two of you for a drink. I liked her from the moment I saw her."

"She was perfectly sweet when she met me." Felix remarks with a confused crease of his brow, glancing around at you all.

"That's because it's you." Hyunjin points out. "No one could ever be mean to you."

"Yeah, and Changbin-hyung can sorta be a bitch sometimes." Jisung shrugs off handedly.

Changbin promptly punches him in the shoulder hard enough to make him yelp.

"What the fuck, hyung?"

"She had a harder time with the alphas, Lixie." You ignore the fight on the other side of the couch and address the concerned omega. "Just because she's also one. It's nature."

"I had no idea Hwasa-noona was an alpha the first time you introduced us." Jeongin looks thoughtful.

"You were unpresented." Chan remarks soothingly. "It makes sense you didn't pick up on it till later."

"Gender doesn't matter to me, much like subgender." You shrug, smiling slightly at the youngest. "I don't really care, as long as I connect with a partner on a deeper, more intimate level."

"Which is why-" Jisung points out with a serious raise of his finger. "-she fell for Changbin-hyung even though he's kind of a bitch."

Changbin tackles Jisung to the floor.

[tm-trx]

currents.02 [2024]

[listening]

"Watch It" / The Boyz

"Strings" / SF9

"Stay for a Night" / Minho

[loving]

"I don’t think a lot of thought was put into writing this, but I can’t stop reading it. This is why soap operas do well." - Lee Do Hwa, Extraordinary You, episode 26

You hit the nail on the head, kid.

[reading]

Seoulmates by Susan Lee - YA contemporary romance - pretty good for the genre; I'd read more by this author

[watching]

Extraordinary You - This was a fun teen romance kdrama with a fantasy twist. It's a "comic characters become aware" plot and I thought it was interesting that the characters didn't try to actually leave the comic and instead just tried to change their 'setup' (fate), with varying levels of success. I enjoyed it a lot.

For Him - This episode fell so flat for me. I loved the girl squad. I liked the two friend groups teaming up to get their respective friends talking again. I loved how how firm Nail still is with Te's 'flirting.' He's not giving Te any reason to think he has a chance and walks away the first chance he gets. But nothing happened and the plot didn't move forward until the very end, so yeah. Flat as a pancake. And I don't like pancakes.

Pit Babe - I love this show and I love Charlie and Babe so much. I find it amusing that the Mama/Papa kinky talk has now morphed into pet names. I didn't quite expect the level of Way's desperation that was made clear this week, but I'm here for it. I honestly didn't think the show would go that dark (despite the extremely dark premise), but all the actors did an amazing job. Pavel is a stand out and once again he sold the emotions fully. He's so good.

The Sign - Another great episode from the Thai BL-sphere this week. But has anyone else noticed the 3D filter on all the CGI flashbacks or is it just my old eyes? It makes all those scenes slightly blurry so I basically check out of all those scenes, and unfortunately there was a lot of it this week. Apart from that, it was a whump-tastic episode that I thoroughly enjoyed, starting with Phaya's dream and ending with Tharn devastated at the side of the river. Both actors did an outstanding job selling their respective scenes without going over the top.

previous Currents posts

-

[nebulousbrainsoup]

[name pending] ateez x star wars teaser two

warnings: mostly unedited, not beta read, very rough draft (be kind <3) word count: 760 a/n: taglist open! send an ask to be added. this is a very early draft, i'm not sure i'll keep it. we'll see. it'll depend on what era i set this au in.

unexpected introductions [teaser]

“He’s what?” Seonghwa blinked, glancing between the stern gaze of his Master and the bright, shining one beside her. The elder hummed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. This can’t be real. 

The boy startled slightly as she nudged him with her elbow, blinking back into his body from wherever his mind had wandered. “Introduce yourself. Go on.”

He gave a small smile as he took a step forward and extended a hand to the Jedi before him. “Kang Yeosang. Your new padawan.”

The boy’s smile had only grown as he spoke, and it was only in the face of his warm, shining innocence that Seonghwa was able to bite back his words of protest. Sure, he hadn’t asked for this, but that wasn’t Kang Yeosang’s fault. He didn’t need to know that. Seonghwa’s own Master, however…

The younger Jedi gave a tight-lipped smile, shaking the boy’s hand. “Park Seonghwa, though I’m sure you already knew that. Your… Master, apparently.” He shot a mildly annoyed look at his own, not bothering to hide it from the boy. “It’s good to meet you, Yeosang.”

He seemed to miss Seonghwa’s irritation, because he immediately brightened, smile spreading wide, and the Jedi Knight felt himself soften just slightly. “You as well, Master Park. I look forward to learning from you.” 

The smile on Seonghwa’s own face went unnoticed by him until he once again caught the eye of his former Master, whose slight smile had morphed into a sly grin throughout the interaction. “Didn’t you have a meeting with Senator Choi to attend, Hwa?”

Seonghwa startled slightly, eyes widening for a moment as he met the gaze of and nodded to the elder Jedi. “That we do. Come.” With a glance to his student, he turned on his heel and started down the hall. He took only three steps before stopping once more, turning to fix a narrowed gaze on the young man, who was still firmly planted in place. His Master only gave him an amused shrug as he flashed her a look of bewilderment. 

“Yeosang.” Once again, the padawan was seemingly jerked out of his thoughts, blinking at him with wide eyes. “We have a meeting with Senator Choi of Coruscant. We don’t want to keep him waiting, do we?”

“We…? Oh! No, of course not,” the boy replied, moving quickly to catch up with him. 

“May the force be with you, Seonghwa, Padawan Kang.” The elder Jedi called, receiving a polite nod and a wave in return.

The two turned with her, heading in the opposite direction to continue on Seonghwa’s original path. There was only a moment of silence before the padawan spoke again. “Not that I’m not honored, but… we?”

Seonghwa furrowed his brow for a moment before the realization hit. “Ah, well technically, I have a meeting with Senator Choi. As my padawan, it’s only fitting that you join me, should you be allowed.”

Though the boy turned away, Seonghwa didn’t miss the smile that tugged at his lips. “Of course, master. This seems like a bit of an unconventional first assignment, though, no?”

“Wartime does tend to have that effect, yes,” he murmured, just barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

Who thought this was a good idea? Seonghwa grit his teeth, silently taking a deep, steadying breath. He was barely a Jedi Knight—he knew the Council was desperate for new blood, but handing this child off to him, without warning, seemed a bit extreme. He’d be having words with someone later, certainly.

They’d nearly reached the Senator’s chambers when Yeosang spoke again. “I can sense you’re not happy to have me.”

Seonghwa startled, turning sharply to look at the boy. “I never—”

“You don’t need the Force to tell, Master,” he interrupted, a sad smile pulling at his mouth. “I’ll understand if you’d see me assigned elsewhere, but the Council must have put us together for a reason.”

Frowning, the Jedi stopped in his tracks, turning to give his new learner another, more careful look over. Something about Yeosang was… pulling at him. “You’re right, they did. I will respect their wishes, though I must admit I was ill-prepared for your arrival. We’ll see how things go, for now.” Something about the sunny, beaming grin thepadawan gave him made Seonghwa’s heart flip. “Don’t disappoint me.”

He barely caught the quick salute Yeosang gave as he turned toward the Senator’s door, but the cheery “Yes, sir,” he received brought the same soft smile back to the usually stern Jedi’s face.

ateez taglist (open): there's nothing here ... series taglist (open): @thatonenoona

[sl-shopomania]

Look #584

Mesh head | GENUS Project - GENUS MORPH - Usagi preset - Head Base Triangle / EyeMorph Bunny / NoseMorph Doll (Kustom9 apr 15 - may 10) (LipMorph Bow available in mainstore) Skin | [Heaux] - Lacey - Rosekiss (Equal10 event apr 10 – may 5) Eyes | LOTUS - Raspberry Eyes BOM (Equal10 event apr 10 – may 5) Blush | GENUS Project - KAWAII BLUSH SET (Kustom9 apr 15 - may 10) Hair | RAMA.SALON - Hwa Young Hair (Kustom9 apr 15 - may 10)

Top | Loki - Angie Heart Top (Access event apr 12 – may 8) Jeans | [C.YFashion] - FUJIKO (Kawaii Project apr 18 - may 12) Bag / Phone | MOVEMENT - For that pic (Kustom9 apr 15 - may 10) Drink | .SugarBun. - Strawberry Matcha Drink (Kawaii Project apr 18 - may 12)

Backdrop | TROPIX - Alley Way Backdrop 01

I hope you like it!

[princess-unipeg]

Seeing an adaptation of a WEBTOON comic on Netflix show really surprised me. It gives me hope my favorite other comics will follow suit like Pixie and Brutus, You’ve got to be kitten me, Emmy the Robot etc. Although from what I read about the original webcomic I’m not sure I can see the source material. I’ll probably wait until the comic’s ending so I have an idea on how this series end. Being weirded out by the protagonist’s original look and being enchanted by his new look makes me a little ashamed by my shallowness. It makes me wonder if the series will end with his original body slowly morphing into his new body or if it will be a combination of the 2. Or just have him stay in his original body. The scenes with the bullying was just uncomfortable to watch so I just skipped through them. Where are the adults? Why weren’t the teachers doing anything to prevent it? It made me glad to see the bullied characters finding each other to form a friendship. Anyway I loved his singing voice. The song he sang was mesmerizing and the fact that it came from a lullaby his mother used to sing to him just makes it more wholesome. I hope Deok-hwa gets his record deal. It’s that producer’s loss. There are plenty of fat celebrities (some not even in comedy) that are beloved for their talent. Hopefully next season he’ll get his well deserved break.

[atiny-piratequeen]

Wait which friend inspired Siren Hongjoong?

No one. Beauty Leaves was originally gonna be a standalone and none of the boys were gonna be in it. Then it morphed into Ataraxia so i had to brainstorm the rest of the boys.

Hongjoong being a matching (but not identical) siren to Hwa was the first thing i thought for him and it just fit well imo. I believe gaia and an anon inspired Yunho but he was originally a werewolf and then i thought that was basic so i changed him to a hellhound. I WAS gonna make jongho a werebear but then went to incubi instead. Yeosang as a fae popped up in my head bc i thought the idea of glowing freckles across his cheeks was cute.

San as a manticore came from me wanting to make him some kind of mythical cat but still have him relatively in the same bracket of power as some of the other boys (so no nekomatas this time).Mingi as a dragon came from his rengoku hair and i think dior suggested it, and someone from my friend server said eldrich wooyoung because he was the very last one for me because i didnt know what to make him.

[hwasonghq]

SCARLETT SHIN

Faceclaim: Rosé (BlackPink).

Data de nascimento: 11/02/1997, 25 anos.

Nacionalidade: Austrália, australiana-coreana.

Ocupação: Atleta.

Esporte: Boxe.

Irmandade: Morphs.

Gênero: Mulher cis.

Qualidades e defeitos: Carinhosa, dedicada, impulsiva e impaciente.

TW: Menção a morte e menção a depressão.

Nascida em um berço de ouro, Scarlett Shin vinha de uma família importante e podre de rica na Austrália, seu país de origem. Seu pai era um dos empresários mais bem sucedidos do país e sua mãe uma Estilista bastante famosa, cresceu com a melhor educação e teve uma infância feliz e recheada de amor por parte de sua família.

Com seus 8 anos, a garotinha descobriu seu talento pela música, seus pais se encantaram em pensar na sua filha ser uma artista musical e nem pensaram duas vezes em inscreve-la na melhor escola de música de Sydney.

Quando Scar entrou pra sua adolescência, descobriu o boxe pro influência de uma amiga da sua aula de canto. Ela gostava bastante de ver as lutas, então depois de algum tempo decidiu começar a praticar todos os sábados escondido do seu pai, já que o mesmo não irá gostar da ideia da sua princesinha praticar um esporte muito violento no seu ponto de vista.

No seu tão esperado aniversário de 18 anos, a Shin mais nova recebeu uma notícia que mudou a sua vida. Enquanto esperava por seu melhor amigo pra passar o dia juntos como sempre faziam, recebeu a notícia que ele tinha sofrido um acidente grave e que infelizmente não tinha sobrevivido, a partir daquele dia passou a odiar seu aniversário. A garota acabou por entrar em uma depressão profunda, onde se machucava e por pouco não tinha tentando fazer algo pior que pudesse se arrepender, mas nunca  mostrou a sua fragilidade para outras pessoas, e sempre  tinha um sorriso no rosto e fingia estar feliz e superado bem o estágio do luto mas na verdade chorava todas as noites.

Scarlett foi buscar forças e motivação no boxe, onde descontava todas suas dores e estresse no ringue, já não se importava em esconder aquilo do seu pai, com aquilo tinha se tornado uma ótima lutadora, porque passava horas treinando não dando abertura pra os pensamento ruins, e se continuasse assim podia ter uma carreira de sucesso no boxe, palavras do seu treinador. Além de ser um tipo de terapia, era uma paixão que ela tinha ganhando. Navegando pela Internet encontrou a Hwasong e decidiu ir para a Coreia do Sul com apoio de seus pais um pouco contrariados, irá recomeçar sua vida e tentar sair daquela tristeza profunda que sentia.

OOC: -18

@HN97SS

[agustdiv1ne]

Hello, congratulations on the 2k milestone! I'd love to participate!

Colour: F10004

Idol: Seonghwa

Trope: angst+smut

Thank you xx

thank you bb!! ♡

wc: 761

warnings: 18+, toxic relationship, oral (f receiving)

asks are now closed

2k drabble masterlist | main masterlist

"this isn't working, seonghwa."

your boyfriend pauses to stare at you, umber eyes wide and plush lips parted. you get a good look at him for the first time tonight; his hair is mussed from running his fingers through it more times than you can count, deep lines mar his face, his knuckles are white as he clutches the kitchen counter in front of him. the sight is a far cry from the level-headed, loving man that you once knew.

those four words escape you in desperation, desperation to stop the hurtful words bouncing back and forth across the kitchen. you're tired, and you are sure that he is too — tired of the back and forth, tired of fighting every single night with no resolution in sight. 

"baby, what, what do you mean?" he starts, making his way around the counter to meet you. you step away, your heart cracking in your chest all the while. you can feel the hurt emanating off of him, but you stand your ground.

"i don't think we can keep doing this," you say, though your shaky voice betrays you. "we- all we do is fight, hwa. i can't, i can't do this anymore." 

"baby, no, what- i don't want that," he pleads, moving closer to you.

you scoff, tears threatening to spill. "it's not about what you want, it's about what's healthy for us. and," you inhale a shaky breath. your next words send the fatal blow to your heart. "i think we need to break up."

the silence that follows is deafening as he grimaces. you turn sit down at the small dining table — the table that the two of you bought together — and bury your face into your palms. tears streaming down your cheeks. you feel seonghwa's arms wrap around you a moment later.

"i know we've been having a hard time lately," he murmurs into your hair. "but i know we can work through this. there's so much i want to do with you; i want to see the world with you, celebrate every single birthday and anniversary with you, grow old together. i can't picture myself with anyone but you, baby."

his words make you sob even harder — you know they're all empty promises, in the end — but he does not allow you shut him out. instead, he turns you around in your chair and lets you cry into his chest, while he whispers comforting words.

you're not sure how long you cry, but he holds you through it all. he shushes your apologies and pleads for him not to leave, assuring you that he's going nowhere.

lies.

your crying slowly subsides until tiny sniffles are the sole thing that remains. his fingers pull your chin up so that you're facing him. he thumbs at your wet cheeks. "you're so beautiful. i'm sorry."

he guides you to your bedroom, and you lay in silence with his arms wrapped you for what feels like hours. gentle kisses against your neck gently morph in small nibbles, and you can't help your body's reactions — your thighs clenching and inaudible pants escaping your lips. his fingers come down to hover over your clothed core, silently asking for permission.

he briefly halts his ministrations to your neck to speak. "can i show you how much i love you, baby? how much i want you?"

you nod, but he clicks his tongue. "words, baby."

"please." it comes out in a desperate whisper, and it's enough for him to shove your shorts to the side. you whimper when you feel him leave his position behind you to find himself between your legs. 

he pries your shorts and underwear off, wasting no time in attaching his lips to your sensitive clit. his tongue circles the small bud until you're squirming. 

his groans vibrate against your core, causing a loud whimper to escape you. your fingers tangle into his hair in a feeble attempt at grounding yourself. he holds you down with a hand pressing on your stomach, tongue dipping down to collect more wetness from your entrance before returning to your clit. the slippery sensation against your nub has every single nerve ending firing, your legs quaking as you careen into your climax.

"hwa, fuck, fuck, i-i love you," you babble as you try to catch a breath, to no avail. he doesn't stop until you're pushing his head away. he returns to his original spot behind you, holding you close. 

as you start to drift off, you realize that he never said that he loves you back.

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[atozfic]

overdrive.

pairing. kim hongjoong x fem!reader.

synopsis. a lonely artist finds himself in need of some human contact, so he joins a dating app but with a very specific request: he doesn’t want a relationship, he wants the experience of one. when someone contacts him, interested and willing to aid him in his search for artistic inspiration, the rules quickly become simple: no real names, no personal details, no feelings. so what the hell is kim hongjoong supposed to do when he catches himself daydreaming about their future together?- or, can you fall in love with a stranger?

warnings. strangers to lovers, fake dating au (kinda?), artist!hongjoong, aged up!ateez (irl age + 5 years), angst, fluff,heavy themes of mental health, depictions of depression, trauma and anxiety, brief mentions of cheating, death, bullying, drugs and alcohol, way too many attempts at humour. smut: dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, nipple play, hair pulling, dirty talk, finger-sucking, spit used as lube, use of the word “doll”, unprotected sex, penetrative sex. 

word count. 17.8k

hyde’s input. this fic is my baby. i love it with my whole heart. it’s been in the making long before i even opened this account. all it took was listening to overdrive by conan gray once and this entire monster of a fic started to unravel in my brain. any feedback is appreciated, same goes for any like or simple reblog! if there’s any spelling mistakes, look the other way: this is 17.8k, i’ve re-read it ten times, i’m sorry!

“I don't know what you're on about, dude. It looks pretty good to me.”

Praise and positive reviews were not what Hongjoong wanted to hear. In fact, all he wanted to do in that moment was kick his own foot through the tainted canvas, until no sign remained of the painting he'd finished in the early hours of the morning; to drench the palette in whatever alcohol he could find laying around the messy studio and light it up into flames.

“I've seen your child make a finger painting better than this. Don't lie to me, Park Seonghwa!” Hongjoong groaned, slouching back in a huff as he melted further into the old leathered sofa. His head tilted back and his eyes snapped shut whilst he inhaled deeply, the offensive smell of fresh paint entering his system.

“I can't help it!” The other male exclaimed and Hongjoong could perfectly picture how he threw his hands up into the air in self-defence, eyes wide and a smile threatening to make itself known. “Being your friend comes way before being your agent, I can't help but be biased!”

Hongjoong’s eyes snapped open. “I literally pay you to not be biased!”

“Yeah, well, I think we've already established that you make mistakes.” With a sheepish smile, the older male gestured towards the canvas and Hongjoong couldn't even find it within himself to try and disagree.

He really had gambled on the fact that this one piece would turn out the way he wanted it to. The truth was, he'd known deep down the work wouldn't turn out well. Through the months of working at it, he kept his optimism up and repeated how if he just added a few more shades, a few more details, the painting would magically morph itself into exactly what he wanted from it. And now he was less than five months away from his submission deadline and missing one painting from his collection. The one which he'd promised himself would be the real kicker, the centre piece, the main character of the exhibition.

“This is hopeless, Hwa!” Sulking came easier than inspiration to the petite artist as of late, a fact which depressed him a little more than he'd ever let another person know. “I don't get what I'm missing here. The concept is so basic yet, every time I go to press brush to canvas, it's like I'm faced with a foreign language and telling myself that if I just stare a little longer, the letters will figure themselves out and I'll miraculously become fluent.”

“Because you're not feeling it, Hongjoong.”

“Feeling what?”

“The concept.” When the taller male was met with nothing but a blank expression, he gestured around with his hand and continued. “Moving on. I mean, you've been single for, what now? Sixteen months? And in that whole time, you've not even entertained the idea of meeting someone new, or even just going on a date.”

“Forgive me for not rushing to throw myself back into a relationship after my last one.” Hongjoong always hated when he failed to control his darker feelings, hating to expose how weak he actually was to things like anger, sadness, depression.

It's why he turned to art in the first place, during his teenage years, which were plagued with awful and painful experiences. Rather than facing them head-on, Hongjoong melted his emotions into colours, presented them on a plain background and worked his way into a scholarship. And, so, that's how it had always been for him. He never had to talk his feelings out, he just painted and others took what they could understand from it.

The leather squeaked under the new pressure of Seonghwa sitting next to him. Hongjoong's eyes shot to the male's lap, where he could see his friend nervously fidgeting with the ring on his left hand. Whatever Seonghwa was about to say next, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

“Look, I get it. I know how hurt you were after things ended between you and...” She'd become the Voldemort of his life, everyone else around him refusing to utter her name out loud and all treating him like the fragile child who'd survived her attack and came out alive with nothing but a scar. Only, his scar was less lightning shaped and more like a cracked heart. “But don't you think it's time you try move on? You're letting... her effect you more than she deserves to. She wasn't the one for you but someone, somewhere, is. You're not going to meet them in here, you need to be outside, experiencing life, waiting for the moment you both cross paths.”

Hongjoong had always envied Seonghwa and his hopeful attitude towards love.

Of course he didn't understand, even if he claimed to. Seonghwa had never even experienced a break up, never mind heartbreak. He met the love of his life at the age of fifteen and married her at the age of twenty five, welcoming their first child together not even a year after.

“Chae wanted me to ask you if maybe you'd consider meeting a girl from her faculty.” Ah, there it was. The whole reason Seonghwa had even brought up his love life in the first place. “She's really sweet! And she's new to the city. And Chae figured, since you know all the best places here out of all of us, you'd be a great tour guide.”

“San literally works in real estate, Hwa. His job is knowing this city like the back of his hand.”

“San is also happily engaged. Come on, what is there to lose? One date, that's all I'm asking you to try.” Seonghwa whined, reminding Hongjoong of the man's child. “You need to start living life again, dude. Because this life of self pity isn't working out for you anymore, it's beginning to affect your career. Just put yourself out there and, if it goes shit, you can blame me.”

“Oh, I'll do more than blame you.”

“So, does that mean you're agreeing to it?”

Hongjoong sighed, pushing himself to stand up from the couch, his hands stinging from the dried paint and his muscles aching with the need for a warm shower. Eyeing the repulsive piece once more, he mentally cursed Seonghwa for playing the career card. He couldn't pretend the man didn't have a point, his art was in need of a new muse, sooner rather than later if he intended to not be a one hit wonder.

“Only because I really need to make that deadline.”

The evening should have been nothing short from perfect: a fresh bouquet handed to her at her front door, a pleasant evening stroll to the restaurant, a mouth-watering meal, not a moment of uncomfortable silence between the two of them. So, why did Hongjoong feel like something was missing?

It was somehow nothing and, yet, everything personal. His date, who he'd forgotten the name of two hours into the night and was now doing his best to avoid having to say it, was by all means conventionally attractive. She had a strong sense of self, the kind of woman he pictured his mother wanting for him. From the many stories she'd shared through the evening, he could tell she loved her job just as much as she loved to talk. They could work as a couple, theoretically. Hongjoong wasn't quite the talker- unless the topic of conversation pertained to one of his obscure, niche interests-, whereas she looked like she could talk for the whole republic of Korea. Her clothing was loud, colourful, a reflection of her personality. Meanwhile, his were dark, plain. She was a social butterfly, he was a solitary caterpillar.

If opposites truly did attract, she would have been his soulmate.

Hongjoong was the issue, though. Or, at least that's what he thought of himself. There he was, on a date with a beautiful woman who was doing her best in life, thriving both socially and in her career. Meanwhile, he was a burnt out artist who rarely found the motivation to wash his hair and had seven friends, only one which he'd actually gone out of his way to make himself and that was in high school. He felt irritated by her perfection, by his inability to have his life put together in that same way. Only a few years away from hitting thirty, and what did he have to show for himself? A single exhibition in his whole career and a one bedroom apartment he'd been living in since college? The girl across from him deserved better than what he had to offer.

“...long story short, that's why Chaeyoung found me crying in the toilet on my first day.” Her flirtatious laughter attracted stares from surrounding tables. None malicious but all wondering why the poor girl's date seemed so miserable in the presence of someone so bubbly. “Speaking of toilets, I'm just going to go freshen up. Don't miss me too much.”

“No promises.” He smiled up at her when she rose from her seat, the guilt in the pit of his stomach growing heavier with each passing second.

As she disappeared from sight, Hongjoong sighed. Out of relief, sadness, exhaustion? He couldn't quite put his finger on it. The events of the evening were pushed aside as he let his eyes trail around the restaurant's interior. The whole place had been refurbished since the last time he'd been.

The last time he'd stepped foot in the restaurant, the whole place was made up of different shades of blue. The walls, the seats, the tablecloths. Walking in felt like being slapped in the face by a raging ocean. When it came to his art, he hated the colour blue. But he'd put up with it in that restaurant because she always liked the service there.

Now, the restaurant had changed hands and the new owner clearly had a more minimalistic approach to things. The walls were a mirage of beige, an elegant design printed on the selected wallpaper. The furniture was a combination of black metals and wooden tops and, where a bunch of cheap chandeliers had once hung, a selection of fairy lights entwined with strings of fake leaves rested above everyone's head. If Hongjoong tried hard enough, he could picture his ex sat across from him in that moment, nose turned up while she failed to quietly bash the rugged look of the restaurant.

Clearing his throat, Hongjoong finished off the remnants of his drink. He figured taking this time to ask for the bill was the least he could do. His date had put in all the effort of conversation, he should be the one to cover the cost of the evening. Between waiting for the bill, and waiting for his date to return, his eyes drifted across the room to another couple.

It wasn't the girl's striking beauty nor the male's loud booming laughter that had caught his interest. It was the way they seemed the opposite of him and his date: the girl looked bored to death and the man seemed to only pause from talking to shovel a fork full of pasta into his mouth, not even waiting to swallow before speaking again. Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, hands occupying themselves with his napkin, more than sure that he was seeing exactly what other customers had seen when they looked at him and his date.

In another life, where everything was a rom-com and romance wasn't the root of all misery, Hongjoong would believe this girl was his soulmate, both of them destined to meet at the bar as they attempted to escape their talkative dates- who would likely be destined to meet that same evening too. Maybe they'd have a joint wedding, all laughing when they thought of the times they'd tried to end up with the other's spouse.

Instead of heading to the bar, Hongjoong payed the bill and, when his date returned, they both walked out of the restaurant; her a few steps ahead of him while he took one last glance at the opposite couple.

The walk back to her place was a little less awkward for Hongjoong than the rest of the evening, the prospect of finally being able to go back to the safe place that was his apartment giving him a buzz of energy. She'd asked him questions about the city, mostly just about the best places to go for specific things, and he'd answered her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket while hers swung freely at her side. Every couple of swings, he'd wonder if she was waiting for him to take a hold of it, intertwine his fingers with her own.

They arrived at her door and the echo of the nightlife around them was starting to pick up, people just beginning their evening together while they two were bringing theirs to an end.

“Thanks for tonight. I really... appreciated your company,” He internally groaned. He sounded like he was closing a business meeting, not saying goodnight to a girl he'd just went out with. “you're a really nice girl. It's been nice meeting you.”

“It was really nice meeting you too!” There it was again, that twinge of hatred towards her. She was just so happy, Hongjoong envied her.

“I'm really sorry for wasting your time.” A hand shot up to rub at the back of his neck, fingers brushing over the bottom of the mullet he'd grown in the months of heartbreak. “I'm just, not really looking for anything with anyone right now? It's nothing personal.”

“Hey, no worries! In all honesty, this was more about just going out in the city. It's not easy being the new kid in town!” The smile never faltered from her face, not even at her next words. “Chaeyoung may or may have not explained a little bit of your situation to me and, I know my opinion as a stranger might mean nothing to you, and I totally respect that, but let me just say this. I think you're a really nice guy. A cool guy, with a lot to offer. You just seem to have forgotten who that guy is, which is a shame. I'd really like to be friends with him.”

“I,” He paused, a little stunned and unsure of what he should say. He'd been told similar things from friends, and it was easy to brush off. But, coming from this girl who barely knew him yet had read him so easily? It was hard. “yeah. I'm trying to remember, I think. Thanks for saying that. And for tonight. Hopefully you don't mind being stuck being friends with whoever I am right now.”

A colourful string of curses pierced the air of the apartment. Hongjoong pulled back from the sizzling pan, wishing he could punch the him from ten minutes ago who thought it was a smart idea to cook bacon in nothing but his underwear.

Growing into his own skin was something that had taken him years to achieve. He'd always been on the shorter end of height amongst those in his class, which hadn't helped with the singled-out bullying he endured in his formative years. There's only so many times a person, especially an impressionable teenager, needs to be told their supposed short-comings before they begin to believe it's all that defines them. He'd learnt to love himself through watching her love him, following in her footsteps like a baby duck followed it's mother. Out of everything the relationship had left him with- the heartbreak, the trust issues, the betrayal- he was happy it had brought him self-love.

The self-love that made him confident enough to lounge around in his boxers though? Yeah, that could get lost, as far as he was concerned.

His ringtone began to play, to which the already frustrated, and admittedly sleep deprived, Hongjoong groaned as he walked around the kitchen island into the living area. Like always, he found the damned device buried within the creases of his couch.

Seonghwa was calling him.

Hongjoong hit decline.

It was ten minutes past noon, he'd barely been awake for half an hour and his skin had already been tainted with burns from the oil spat at him by his pan. There was not a chance in hell, purgatory or heaven that he was about to answer and listen to his friend barrage him with questions about how the date went. Hongjoong wasn't ready to listen to the hopeless romantic in Park Seonghwa try to find moments of hope in the terribly mundane evening him and the girl had shared.

No second date would be happening, a fact which comforted Hongjoong. A weight had been removed from his chest, that sinking feeling gone. The accomplishment of having done what Seonghwa had asked of him, no matter the end result, was a small success in his books, a step in the right direction out of his cycle of misery. However, that one step didn't mean he was ready to run a marathon.

If Hongjoong really was going to walk the path back to his old self, or carve a new one, he'd be doing it on his own terms and at his own pace.

The influx of buzzing from his phone took his attention once again, this time coming from a familiar group chat. Hongjoong had told himself to mute it yet always forgot to.

[12:11 pm] wooshit: istg she's left me with 6 pulled muscles and a broken bed, best sex i've had in a long time.

Jung Wooyoung was one of those friends he hadn't gone out of his way to make but, rather, he just turned up one day in Hongjoong's life, slapping him on the ass and asking him if he would mind painting a nude portrait of him.

[12:13 pm] yeolo: you say that every time you have sex.

[12:14 pm] wooshit: kang yeosang stop being salty about me getting my dick wet challenge: failed.

Yeosang had been the one to blame for introducing Wooyoung to the group and, though he too was technically someone who simply showed up one day, Hongjoong had shared a class with him during college days.

[12:16 pm] yunhoe: honey, we need to stop befriending these hets like we're a charity.

[12:16 pm] yunhoe: oh shit.

[12:16 pm] yunhoe: did i send that here?

[12:17 pm] minki: yeah, but you're right.

[12:17 pm] minki: from now on, you guys need to pay for the service of our company.

Then there was Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi, yet another golden couple in Hongjoong's life. Like Seonghwa and his wife, they'd met in school, the only difference being that they never fully accepted their feelings for each other until much later. They were the first new additions to Hongjoong and Seonghwa's life, the four sticking together after ending up sharing a dorm.

[12:22 pm] wooshit: i don't even pay for netflix, what makes you think i'd pay for you?

[12:23 pm] yeolo: idk how he keeps accessing my account, i've changed my password over six times!

[12:23 pm] jongno: adding another number at the end of hehet doesn't count as changing your password, yeo.

The latest friend among them all, Choi Jongho, was dragged into their mess by Seonghwa, who'd contacted him about singing at his wedding. Somehow, the night had ended with the lot of them embarrassing themselves on the mic during various rounds of drunken karaoke, while Chaeyoung looked on, unamused by her new husband's antics.

[12:26 pm] sanwitch: am i the only one still wondering how tf woo convinces these women to sleep with him?

If there were a voice of reason among them all, it certainly wasn't San. After meeting his fiancé, he'd tried to play off like he'd matured but they all knew he was still Wooyoung's double, one half of their dumb and dumber act.

[12:27 pm] wooshit: i don't appreciate your tone.

[12:28 pm] wooshit: i'm a suave casanova. a modern gentleman. ladies fall at my feet when i wink.

[12:29 pm] yeolo: he's on a hook up app.

[12:29 pm] wooshit: hate it here.

[12:30 pm] wooshit: it's not a hook up app, it's a dating app. the best one, actually.

[12:30 pm] yeolo: a dating app for horny singles.

[12:31 pm] wooshit: hey! horny singles want love too!

[12:34 pm] minki: what's so good about it anyway?

[12:36 pm] wooshit: i'm glad you asked, mingles.

[12:37 pm] yeolo: oh no, here we go.

At some point, Hongjoong had reclined himself against the arm of his couch, slowly but surely sinking into it whilst his eyes and thumbs scrolled over the screen. It wasn't like he had any intentions of join the conversation. No, that would risk Seonghwa seeing him online. The conversation was nothing special either compared to the countless other ones they'd spammed the chat with. Still, a magnetic force was pulling Hongjoong to keep reading, to pay attention.

[12:43 pm] wooshit: the app let's you choose who gets to see your private info, like your name, age, etc...

[12:43 pm] wooshit: so users just see your pictures and whatever description you write, until you approve them to see more. it's great, filters out people who're looking for anything long term.

[12:49 pm] sanwitch: isn't it weird to hook up with people and not know who they are?

[12:52 pm] yunhoe: not to mention, dangerous?

[12:53 pm] wooshit: that's the fun part!

[12:53 pm] wooshit: this is why i fear relationships.

[12:54 pm] wooshit: it's turned the two biggest man whores i knew into boring, dick/pussy whipped losers.

[12:58 pm] yeolo: wait, so what's the app called?

[13:03 pm] jongno: don't do it, yeo.

[13:05 pm] wooshit: stfu jongho.

[13:05 pm] wooshit: yeo don't listen to him, baby.

[13:06 pm] wooshit: the app's called checkmate.

[13:08 pm] jongno: can i just be the one to remind wy he's less than a year away from hitting 27?

[13:10 pm] yunhoe: don't join the dark side, yeo. you're better than that.

[13:04 pm] wooshit: yeo used to think darth vader was hot, he's always been on the dark side, yunho.

An offensive beeping rang out in the room, startling Hongjoong and sending him catapulting out of his seat, a hand clutching his chest. His heart was beating a thousand miles per minute. In a state of panic, he began to recount the safety measures she'd instilled in him for whenever the fire alarm went off. It was only once his eyes had settled on the fire extinguisher that a rather offensive smell hit his nose, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

His bacon had burnt.

There was something he despised about arriving early to things.

For starters, it made him panic that he'd gotten the days mixed up, more often than not finding himself unlocking his phone and aiming straight for his calendar. After confirming the plans aligned with the select day, he'd check the text history with whoever he was meeting, in case he'd written it down incorrectly in his phone.

Moving on from there, Hongjoong would fall down a spiral of believing everyone in the surrounding vicinity had their eyes on him. In his mind, they were all questioning why he was alone, what was he doing, if he was just a complete loner. He solved this by occupying himself with his phone, scrolling through his gallery or aimlessly rereading conversations in the Teezers group chat.

It would soothe him for a while, until his brain found something else to worry about: being stood up. The overwhelming feeling of abandonment was something he carried close to his heart, sneaking out at the minimum sign of someone not arriving for an arranged meeting. There were times, when he'd arrive first out of the Teezers, that his own fear was strong enough to convince himself that all seven of the boys had collectively agreed to not meet up and to leave Hongjoong waiting.

Right now, he was experiencing the second stage.

With half a cup of coffee left and a shredded napkin in his anxious hands, Hongjoong was doing his best to limit the number of times his eyes wandered over to the entry of the café. Eventually, the napkin was replaced by his phone, cringing as he forgot to turn his volume down before he opened the app. He would be more than ashamed if someone in the café recognized the app's signature tune, fearing the judgement he'd receive for being on such a site.

Hongjoong hadn't told anyone he'd joined Checkmate, not even his friends. Was it partially out of fear of judgement? Yes, the judgement from finding out the real reason he'd signed up.

Two weeks had passed since he'd set up his profile and he was still blaming it on a moment of weakness, born from lack of sleep, mild dehydration and the paint fumes he'd been inhaling indirectly all day in his studio. The feeling of needing a new muse returned to him, stronger than any previous time. Without much thought, Hongjoong had unlocked his phone, memories of Wooyoung and his self-proclaimed "best dating app" at the front of his mind. And, though Hongjoong had always despised the concept of a dating app- he much preferred the old fashioned way of falling in love, the artist in him seeking out that moment of fate where one gazed across a room and caught the sight of someone magnetic, someone they needed to meet-, the app was ideal for what he wanted.

He squirmed in his seat, turning the brightness of his screen down as his dating profile flashed onto it. He'd uploaded exactly three images of himself: one of him sat in a car, adorned with a beret and a camera in hand; another taken of him across a table, back when his hair was red and his eyes were happier; the last was a selfie he'd taken in an elevator with his face covered by a mask, he'd hoped it wasn't too obvious his ex had been cropped out of it.

Taking another sip of his coffee, Hongjoong grimaced as he read over his profile description.

this may sound strange but i'm not looking for a relationship or a casual hook-up. what i really need is someone to experience things with, experiences that my friends are too exhausting to give me and my family is too judgemental. i don't want to know you, and i don't want you to know me. i just want us to live a few moments together, as strangers. call them dates if you want, i don't care. maybe you don't understand what i'm asking for, maybe you think this sounds like a scam that ends with you dead. that's fine, you're not the person for the job, please move on from my profile. but, maybe you're like me and the past months have been you living in autopilot, waking up because you have to, not because you want to. maybe your friends are just like mine and they've told you to put yourself out there more or that they miss the old you. this is both of our chances to change that, to be our old selves again or become a newer, better version. if that's the case, message me but don't let me see your private info. be my stranger.

Given it's contents, he was amazed anyone had messaged him. Maybe he'd been hoping to get no response. He'd be able to remain sedated with the fact he'd tried, leaving him the perfect excuse to not do so again for a while.

But someone had replied. The person, from the few pictures Hongjoong had been permitted to view on their profile, was beautiful. To others, the word beauty could easily hold a single meaning, a specific look. To the artist, it meant everything. He had a knack for finding hidden treasures, glimpses of rarity. His fingers had itched to portrait such a face on paper the longer he'd stared at the pictures, which both terrified and satisfied him.

He'd not even met you yet and already he'd had a surge of inspiration, even if it died a few seconds later.

The third stage of arriving early was about to commence when, much to his relief, a figure sat across from him.

There you were, nervously pulling back your own seat and placing down your to-go cup. Details about your face were different in person than in pictures but it didn't diminish your beauty. No, it rather enhanced it.

“What did you order?” Hongjoong often thought someone's choice of drink could tell you a lot about them. Like how Seonghwa ordered a cortado because he was always in a rush, or how San had the habit of getting a mocha to kill two birds with one stone: satisfy the craving for coffee and chocolate, or how he himself tended to order plain black coffee to avoid any fuss for the person serving him.

“Mango tea.” Was your reply and Hongjoong wasn't sure what to make of it. In all honesty, he hadn't known there was such a thing. He really needed to start reading the menu at these places.

“Don't drink coffee?” His question was observational. Statistically speaking, didn't most people fall under the veil of a coffee or tea person, the drink version of the good old cat or dog debate?

“Only when I'm stressing.” There was something about the way you spoke to him, like you hated the small talk just as much as he did, that had Hongjoong gripping on to everything you said. Was this what it was like to speak to himself? “Sorry, not to be rude, but could we cut to the chase? I have to be back in class in,” You paused, pulling back the denim sleeve to read your watch’s face. “seventeen minutes.”

His eyes widened at the word class, like he was personally offended by it. All rational sense left, his prone-to-panic brain doing what it done best and throwing him down a spiral of dark thoughts.

“College!” You exclaimed, hands shooting up a little, your palms on display. “College class. I'm...” You seemed hesitant to speak, halting yourself mid-sentence. You knew what the man in front of you wanted and personal information was not it. “of age. Not some high school student, I swear.”

When Hongjoong gave you no reply, you continued to speak.

“Not that it really matters. We're not going to be doing anything. But still, you don't want to be... hanging out with some kid. I get it. Me neither. Yeah, I'm a college student.”

“I believe you.” Different to his previous date, Hongjoong didn't think you were much of a talker. A nervous talker, perhaps. He could relate to that a bit more. There was a humming in his veins, his body buzzing with the thrill of sitting across from a complete stranger and not having to worry about your impression of him, if he was showing all his best qualities, intriguing you to get to know him better. There never had to be a fear of you being disappointed with what you'd find in meeting the real Kim Hongjoong. “Anyway, yeah. Let's get into it quickly so you can make it back to class.”

“Okay, so you already said in our text conversation that you don't want to know any personal information.” Hongjoong nodded, affirming your statement. “What exactly do you consider personal information?”

“Anything that defines who you are. Your age, your hobbies, your hometown. Especially your name,” He finished off the last of his coffee, doing his best to ignore the bitter taste. “It's too easy to learn everything about someone these days with just their name and access to the internet.”

“Sheesh, these days? You talk like my middle-aged father.” You seemed to catch your mistake just as it left your mouth, looking off to the side momentarily before meeting his eyes again. “Shit, sorry, you just said you didn't want to share our ages.”

Hongjoong almost wanted to laugh out of pity, seeing so much of himself reflected in you yet finding you so different all at once. “Love that you apologise for that but not for insinuating that I'm old.”

“Hey, ain't no shame in a little age. I've heard having a glucose father helps cover the costs of college.”

“Glucose... father?”

“And then you wonder why I called you old?” For the first time since you'd approached the table, he saw a wave of confidence wash over you, burning in the satisfaction of whatever diss you seemed to believe you'd handed to him. “So, if we're not getting to share names, what am I supposed to call you?”

“That's... actually a good question. I didn't think that far ahead.” Before falling asleep the night before, Hongjoong had rehearsed every possible scenario he could think of regarding how this meeting would go. Hell, he'd even prepared for if you revealed mid-way that you were an alien lifeforce! He'd miraculously skimmed over how to get past the whole name situation. “I don't know, I guess we could just tell each other fake names.”

“Or,” You drummed your hands on the table. He found it a little annoying. “we could pick out names for each other.”

“You first, then.”

Hongjoong felt the urge to sit up straight instead of his usual slouched posture at the drag of your eyes over him. It was intimidating to know you were analysing everything about him based solely on his exterior, yet it filled him with a twisted pleasure. He hoped whatever conclusion you came to about him would be incorrect, his superiority complex needing a comeback.

“Clyde.” Not a name he expected. “Cause you seem like the complete opposite of that name, but I'm also kinda suspicious that you might be some sicko waiting to make a mask out of my face.”

“Who's to say it's not you who's going to make a mask out of mine?” His eyes caught the way you checked your watch again, time running by quickly. “Then I guess I'll be calling you Bonnie, to keep things on theme.”

“Well aren't you just the little romantic?”

Hongjoong didn't want to stay in your company any longer than necessary, he really didn't. But your bus stop just happened to be in the same direction of where he'd managed to park his car. Saying goodbye at the café door only walk in the same direction would have been too painfully awkward for Hongjoong to endure, so he offered to walk you to the stop.

You both managed to come to an agreement on your schedule: every Saturday. It was the only day you had free, the rest filled with school and work. He'd felt a little guilty admitting he lacked responsibilities in that department.

Watching you walk told him more than your drink order had. You seemed to pull into yourself, shoulders kinda tight, hands in your pockets, head a little low hanging like you were watching your own steps.

Spotting the bus stop up ahead, he picked up pace. His social battery was running out, a sight no one enjoyed witnessing. But you called him to stop and, out of politeness, he felt the need to obey.

“Hold on, I'll be back in a second, I swear.”

Off you'd disappeared into a convenience store, leaving Hongjoong abandoned in the middle of the pavement. That feeling of having eyes on him returned but he survived, resisting the urge to fake being occupied by his phone. You came bustling back out, a white plastic bag at your side and a look of success on your face.

“Here, take this.” You reached into the bag, holding out a cardboard box to him. Upon inspection, he quickly realised what you'd bought. You were smarter than he'd expected, what a relief. “Now we won't even have to share our real numbers.”

Hours later, the black, clunky burner phone would buzz in Hongjoong's back pocket, a single text on the grainy screen.

from: bonnie c u on saturday, grandpa.

“Maybe this wasn't a good idea.”

Hongjoong couldn't agree with you more, a frustrated sigh falling from his lips as he struggled to pack up his stuff. In his mind, he couldn't get away from there fast enough. Momentarily, his eyes skirted over to you, satisfied to find you also packing up and throwing your bag over your shoulder, not an ounce of hesitation. The look you both shared before commencing to run made it clear you were wondering the same thing.

How the hell had the date taken such a turn?

As promised, the two of you had met on a Saturday. Hongjoong picked you up from that same bus stop you'd parted ways at, figuring it was easier than finding out what other places you localled in your free time. Upon your arrival, Hongjoong did not notice the little things that had changed about you since he'd last seen you, like the way your hair was a couple shades darker or how you'd changed your phone case.

“Looking dapper, Clyde.” You'd said, taking in his outfit when you'd stepped off the bus.

He'd always prided himself on the ways he expressed himself, whether that be through his artwork, his words or his fashion sense. There'd been a time where his wardrobe was colourful, full of oddities and unique pieces, things he'd thrifted and renovated to suit his taste more. Nowadays, all the colour in his wardrobe was hidden behind piles of whites and greys and blacks. Hongjoong felt a shot of pride run through him at your comment, standing there in black cargo pants paired with a white graphic tee and a pair of faded black Doc Martins' he'd owned for a few too many years.

It felt good to be complimented still.

“I hope you don't have any allergies.” By the time you'd both sat yourselves in his car, Hongjoong was feeling a little less tense. The initial greetings with strangers was always the hardest part.

“Is that a trick question, Clyde?”

“Not at all, Bonnie. Why? And you're having a little bit too much fun calling me that, aren't you?”

“It's a cool name!” You threw your hands up in your own defence. “I thought we weren't supposed to share private info.”

“There's private information and then there's me accidentally putting your life at risk. Now answer the question.”

“And they say romance is dead.” You shifted in your seat, one hand playing with the zip of your jacket. “As long as you don't try force feed me a strawberry, we're good.”

Hongjoong didn't point out the fact you never asked him in return, not that he did have any allergies that needed pointed out. But you seemed disinterested in knowing, in caring. 

He'd picked the right person.

The car pulled up to an empty parking lot located in front of a field, a look of realization coming over you. Taking advantage of the trance you were in, Hongjoong shot out the car and made his way around to your door, effortlessly pulling it open and greeting you with a shy smile. He was hoping you liked the plans he'd made for you both. Not because he cared for your opinion, rather Hongjoong knew he needed an influx of colours to motivate him, inspire him.

And what better place to find colour than a field of blossoming flowers?

He closed the door behind you before leading you over to the boot of the car- which sparked several jokes about him murdering you and burying you in the field- and handed you a blanket before bringing out a basket. Conversation was scarce as you two ventured over the small fence and into the flowery field, the basket swinging with each of his steps and the blanket safely clutched against your chest. The smell was sweet, overwhelmingly fresh in contrast to the stiff air of Seoul.

“This looks like a good spot,” You said, coming to a stop in an empty patch surrounded by a rainbow made up of tulips. The artist in Hongjoong itched to take your picture, the sun creating the illusion of a halo above your head and the flowers a satisfying contrast to your monochromatic clothing. The person in him didn't want to carry the burden of your image in his gallery, a temptation to think of you on days that weren't Saturdays. “you agree?”

“Uh, yeah, seems fine to me.” He wanted to curse himself for taking a few moments to reply. Surely you didn't notice.

You laid the blanket down and he laid out the food: freshly cut fruit (no strawberry in sight), sandwiches without the crust (he always found the crust too dry), chocolate dipped almonds and honey drizzled pastries (he had a sweet tooth), different flavours of milk (banana was his favourite) and bottled water.

The date passed by slowly, neither of you willing to admit you were bored. It was hard to choose a topic of discussion when you weren't supposed to get to know each other, to care for what the other thought or felt. For a while, he'd told you facts about the different flowers around you until you took over and told him about different types of clouds. And then, you caved into the awkwardness.

“Tell me something about yourself.”

“I don't want to.”

“It doesn't have to be true.” You stated like it were the most obvious thing in the world. “That's the beauty of this, right? We don't have to be honest with who we are. So, tell me something about yourself, whether it's the truth or a lie. I'll never know, either way.”

Hongjoong paused mid bite of the pastry, tongue darting out to lick at the excess honey on his lips. “I'm an accountant.”

“Because no one asks what you do?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, boomer.”

“I'm not a boomer! I'm probably not much older than you!”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.”

Hongjoong ignored the way peach juice dribbled down your chin as you took a bite. “It's your turn.”

“My cousin is a famous idol.”

Both of you lied.

And it worked, getting the conversation flowing a bit easier. Hongjoong enjoyed lying without the consequences that usually came along with it. It was like playing a character, no longer himself but Clyde, an accountant, career booming and social circle full. It was easier to be confident when nothing was reality.

But back to the present, where both you and Hongjoong were scrambling to grab your belongings and make a beeline for his car. A buzzing followed after you both, threatening to make you pay for intruding on the bees turf, who were hungry for nectar and not happy to find a pair of strangers sat among the flowers and eating the fruit of their labour.

Suddenly the prospect of a flower field was less romantically beautiful.

“Ow, ow, shit.” Hongjoong cursed, slamming the door to his car shut. With the adrenaline dissipating, the pain of the nasty sting he'd taken to the hand made itself known.

“Here, let me drive.” You called from the backseat, urging him to hop over to the passenger's side. Hongjoong hesitated, he didn't enjoy letting other's drive his car. But the itch in his hand only grew, leading him to give in. He grunted when you nearly elbowed him in the face while dragging yourself into the front. “Next time, let's just do something indoors.”

Hongjoong had certainly been on worse dates.

The dates continued on smoothly from there, with no more run ins with wildlife and less awkward silence each time.

You chose the second location, a pottery class, in which Hongjoong tried his best to not over-perform and you just tried to at least make a shape out of some clay. The third and fourth dates were chosen by him: a visit to a planetarium and a trust-building day of canoeing, by the end of that one, you both had nearly drank the whole lake away from the number of times you'd fallen in.

One thing remained consistent throughout. Without fail, there would come a time where one of you- usually you- would prompt the question "Tell me something about yourself."

He'd lied about being into clubbing and you lied about being a smoker.

He lied about having a sister and you lied about being fluent in four languages.

When you were honest about owning a cat, Hongjoong kept up the lies with saying he preferred dogs.

The fifth date was one you'd organised, giving Hongjoong nothing but an address and the instruction to dress like a pompous aristocrat. He felt a little silly, walking the street midday in his suit and tie, but he found himself caring less than he normally would. He quite liked being Clyde. He'd even nearly put on a teal tie, but he decided he still wasn't ready and stuck to a black one.

from: bonnie meet me inside.

Pulling the door open to the building, he was admittedly ashamed of not recognising the address of the art gallery. Back in college, he'd spent hours sat in the centre of some of the larger rooms, beautiful art encasing him as he worked away at whatever project he needed to complete before midnight.

He found you near the information desk, scrolling through your phone. He'd hate to ever admit he took this moment of liberty to give you a once-over. Your beauty was nothing new to him, a few dates in now. The way it morphed into something new every time, though, that never failed to intrigue him.

“You scrub up quite nicely, Bonnie.” Hongjoong no longer felt a shake in his voice whenever you two met up. It worried him that he may be getting used to you but, the smile you gave in retaliation to his greeting didn't worry him,

He actually liked it.

The two of you ventured through the gallery, shoulder to shoulder. You'd stare at the art and he would stare at you. For no reason other than he had seen these pieces all plenty of times, more than he'd seen you.

Hongjoong smiled, thinking of how wonderful it was to see someone experiencing the art for the first time. That smile faltered when you both came to a stop in front of a familiar painting. A portrait of a woman, naked skin tangled with rose vines and face stoic..

If only the thorns dug more into her skin, enough to draw blood, it would have satisfied him.

“This one makes me sad.” You spoke, unknowingly quenching some of the fiery anger burning up in him. He'd forgotten this piece was even hung here.

“Why?” He knew why it made him sad, but you? He couldn't understand. The painting was a supposed demonstration of love, a declaration of affection.

“It reminds me of unrequited love.” You took his lack of response as your sign to continue, clearing your throat. “It's like a shrine, or an artsy version of putting her up on a pedestal. Even it's name, Aphrodite's champion. It's like the artist is worshipping her like a goddess.”

He felt a lump swelling in his throat the more you spoke, the memories of her walking out on him playing out in his head. How she'd revealed her lies to him, stripped him away of his sanity, gaslit him into thinking he'd pushed her to the point of infidelity. It took many drunken nights in Seonghwa's company to get it through his head that nothing he'd done could ever excuse the way she treated him.

“I feel sorry for whoever the artist Kim Hongjoong is. They deserve better.”

He'd managed to make it to the bathroom in time for the first tear falling, you none-the-wiser to the emotional fractures ripping him apart in the tiny stall.

The sixth date went better.

He was relieved by the time Saturday arrived, his week filled with nothing but stress and heartache. On the Monday, Seonghwa had invited himself into his apartment, finding his friend dishevelled and puffy eyed in his studio room, an empty canvas in front of him and a paper scribbled with ideas in his hand. Wednesday saw the unexpected visit of his mother, which always went down a treat for him. On Thursday, he drank away the day that should've been his and his ex's fifth anniversary. By the time Friday had rolled around, Hongjoong started working, for the second time, on the final piece of his collection.

The reopening of his wounds had at least served some purpose.

Every other week so far, Saturday had been the day he dreaded. The day he had to mentally prepare for, the few hours of social interaction exhausting him. But the sixth Saturday was his saviour.

The day couldn't have gone better: he'd woken up early; he'd hummed along to the radio while cooking breakfast; he’d spent the afternoon painting, till his back ached and his fingers were cramped; he’d contemplated a hair cut but decided against it. And, when he'd stepped out the door that evening, twirling his keys on his finger, Hongjoong slipped on a red jacket.

“I can't believe drive-in cinema's are still a thing!” You exclaimed again, still in disbelief of where Hongjoong had brought you. His hands itched to reach up and wipe the mustard off the side of your mouth. Your napkin done it before he could lose his composure.

He nodded, mouth full of nachos. He was regretting asking for extra jalapeños, his tongue beginning to tingle. You, on the other hand, were smarter than him and stuck to a hotdog. As he swallowed, a tortilla chip scratched at his throat, leaving him coughing for a couple of seconds. “What, no joke about me being as old as the concept of drive-ins?”

“It's only a joke if you find it funny.”

“Who says I don't?”

“You've never laughed before at my jokes.”

“There's a first time for everything.”

The parking lot wasn't ridiculously busy. If Hongjoong had to, he would have guessed there was between ten to fifteen other cars apart from you two. A car to the left of his, four parking spaces between them, harboured what looked like two teenagers, one straddling the other's lap while they both took part in a dance of tongues and wandering hands.

Hongjoong believed their money would have been better spent on a motel room than the drive-in.

“What are we watching, anyway?” You piped up again after a while of comfortable silence, the radio softly playing a mix of early 2000s pop while you waited for the movie to play. He watched you sip from your cup, fingers drumming along to the beat coming through the speakers. Hongjoong liked it.

“Jurassic Park.”

“A movie about a group of prehistoric reptiles?” He'd expected the reaction you'd given him but that didn't make it any easier to suppress his smile at the sound of you laughing, cheeks puffed up from the stretch of your lips. “Isn't that based on your autobiography?”

Finally, he let laughter rip through his lungs, melodic waves of sound spreading in the small space of the vehicle. He was too lost in his own amusement to notice how your own laughter had died down or how you stared at him in content. Hongjoong really did look much better with a smile on his face, but you kept that thought to yourself out of fear of ruining the moment.

“Sorry Clyde, you just make it too easy for me.”

Once the movie started, the talking stopped, nothing but the sound of the characters pulsing through the speakers and the crunch of pop-corn. Your eyes hadn't left the screen once, sparkling a little with the bright reflection of the screen. Hongjoong, on the other hand, struggled to keep himself concentrated. His eyes were restless: watching the screen, watching you, watching the other cars, watching the sky, watching you, watching the pedals at his feet, watching you, watching you, watching you.

He craved your attention.

“Tell me something about you, Bonnie.” His whispered words had your eyes on him at last. You didn't seem bothered by the way he was interrupting the movie. Instead, you reached to turn down the radio.

“I hate the spelling of the word Wednesday.” You shifted yourself in your seat, leaning closer to him. His stomach turned at the smell of your perfume, lingering on his senses and threatening to get him hooked on it. “It's just so ugly looking, don't you agree?”

“Hmm...” Hongjoong had to spell it mentally, visualising all the times he'd written it in the corner of middle-school notebooks. “I get what you mean. It looks like it has more letters than it needs, kinda cramped?”

“Yes! Exactly! It's only got two e's but that somehow feels like too many.” Was he proud because he managed to relate to someone or because that someone was you? “Your turn, Clyde.”

“I hate the colour blue.”

“That's strange.” You didn't seem to be judging him, just commenting on it.

“You think?”

You hummed in approval, sipping the remnants of your drink. “Worldwide, that's the colour most people favour.”

“And yet the colour is associated with the feeling of sadness. Says more about everyone else than it does about me, wouldn't you agree?”

The radio was shortly turned back up. His eyes were more calm this time, only occasionally drifting over to where you were sat. Until he felt something drop against him. He found you, eyes shut by sleep.

You needed a place to rest your head and he let you have him, finding comfort in the weight of you on his shoulder.

Hongjoong couldn't stand hospitals.

They smelt like bleach coloured death and words left unsaid and fading heartbeats. The lights were too bright, like they were trying to mimic the light one sees at the end of the tunnel. Everything was used and touched and tainted by another person, yet things were presented as brand new and never used. For him, every inch of the building brought on a kaleidoscope of memories of the final months before his passing, before his mother was left spouseless and his older brother took over the role of man of the house, and Hongjoong turned to paint brushes and abstract emotions.

In his first ever therapy session- one he'd only attended at her request-, they'd quickly gotten on to the topic of his father. It wasn't a shock for him to realise his depressive days had began after his death, making him wonder why he was paying this stranger to tell him things he already knew.

Sighing, he brushed aside the unwanted memories and tightened his grip on the crutches, making his way out of the consultation office and back into the lobby, a prescription tucked into his back pocket. The pain in his ankle diminished slightly the second he caught sight of you, biting down on the tip of your pen and caught in a trance staring at your crossword. There was a strand of straw caught amongst your hair but you seemed none-the-wiser.

He pulled it out when he was close enough, smiling down at you sheepishly while you pushed the magazine to the side, eyes shooting down to his ankle.

“Well?” You asked expectantly.

“It's not broken.” You sighed in relief. “It just took some shock upon impact, so it's a little sensitive. Should heal up in a few days, but I've to come back if the pain worsens at any point.”

“So you won't be suing me for damages?”

“No!” He chuckled in disbelief. You'd stood yourself up and you both were now making your way through the lobby of the hospital. It was endearing to see you walk slower for him to keep up. “Why would I sue you, Bonnie?”

He'd started to use your false name more. Was it to stop himself from asking for your real one? To remind himself this wasn't real?

“You're hurt because of me! I knew horseback riding was too risky for your old bones, should've just taken you to the zoo like I originally planned.”

“I don't like zoos.” An elderly couple pointed towards you two as you passed them. Hongjoong wanted to know what they thought of you both. “Besides, I had fun today. Especially when your horse stopped to take a massive dump mid-way through the trail and then ate grass for about five minutes. Watching you struggle to get it moving again was the highlight of my week!”

“Oh haha, very funny. Starting to think you falling off your horse was just karma for enjoying my suffering.”

The sun was barely up anymore, hues of dark orange setting fire to the sky while the sun slowly disappeared for the day. Hongjoong wondered if you could feel the cold the same way he could. When you'd both met in the morning, it was much warmer and neither of you predicted you would still be together so late into the day.

“Did you get a hold of your friend?” Hongjoong shook his head at your question. He'd messaged Seonghwa after the doctor had given him the all clear, knowing that he wasn't capable of driving himself home.

“He's busy, stuck with his in-laws for the night.” He knew there were others he could have asked to help him, like the rest of the boys in the group chat. For some reason, he didn't want to.

“Then I guess you're just going to have to accept the fact I'm about to find out where you live, Clyde.”

“I'm sure I can live with that.”

The drive was relaxing. He let his eyes drop down and just enjoyed the humming of the engine, the classical music dancing out of the speakers, the sweet scent of you in the air. Every so often, his GPS would chime in and keep him from falling off the edge into sleep. If someone had told him weeks ago, dates back, that you would be driving toward his apartment, he would have cut contact with you straight away.

Right now, he wished you'd hurry up and step inside the four walls he called home.

“You must have a boring job.” The doors to the elevator shut slowly, a fact which Hongjoong had always hated about the building. It usually left him stuck having uncomfortable small talk with the older women in his building.

“Huh?”

“Boring jobs always pay the best.” You further elaborated. “To live in a place like this, you must get payed well.”

He'd never really thought about the paycheques he collected. For Hongjoong, his art wasn't a job. It was breathing, living, feeling. He often forgot it was also what payed his bills and funded his lifestyle. He supposed you were right, to an extent. He did get payed well, but his job was by no means boring. “I told you, I'm an accountant.”

He was glad to find his apartment clean, mentally noting to thank Seonghwa for tidying up for him last time he'd visited. He'd always been a clean freak but fatherhood seemed to have intensified it. You walked in after him, swinging the little white bag in sync with your steps, his medicine tossing around inside of it. Somewhere along the drive home, he remember the prescription in his pocket, prompting a sudden manhunt for an open pharmacy.

At your orders, Hongjoong dropped himself down onto the couch while you wandered into the kitchen, asking him where he kept his mugs and how he liked his coffee. Watching you struggle to open his monstrous size of a fridge, Hongjoong didn't hate the look of you in his safe space. You fit in quite well.

For the first time in years, he let himself be taken care of. You cooked up some kimchi stew, which you shared sat in his living room, laughing between bites at the cringey rom-com playing on the TV. You fluffed a cushion and helped him prop his foot up on the coffee table, wrapping it in a frozen bag of peas when you realized he had no ice. You poured him drink after drink, forced him to take his medicine, cleaned up the dishes you'd both used.

You kept him company.

“Tell me...” Hongjoong trailed off, deciding he didn't want to finish the sentence.

“Something about myself?” You finished it off, curling yourself further into his couch, legs pulled up to your chest and a mug of tea heating up your hands.

“No, actually.” You looked more surprised than he felt. “Tell me why you agreed to this.”

“You know, nobody really warns you about how lonely being an adult is.” Hongjoong wanted to scream out in agreement. He leaned closer to you instead, body language urging you to continue. “I always thought college would be wild nights and crazy parties and messy hook-ups. And it is but it's also stressful, difficult, isolating. There's times where I go days without speaking to my friends, ignoring their texts for no other reason than I'm so drained and conversations overwhelm me. When I do want to talk or see them, they're all too busy with their own lives, which I'm not angry about but hanging out isn't as easy as it was back when the only thing we had to worry about was having the dishes done by the time our parents came home. The feeling of being lonely took over the feeling of being alive somewhere along the way. I miss being busy with something other than responsibilities, I miss being hugged because I'm cared about and not because someone wants to cop a feel. I miss the feeling of company and understanding.”

Your word-vomit resonated with Hongjoong, the way you explained your feelings and your cravings mirroring things he'd been thinking for months. How would you react if he hugged you? He didn't want you to mistake it for pity. His arms stayed put.

“On the flipside, the intimacy of love is something I don't want. Which contradicts the things I do want, I know, but then I came across your profile. You sort of filled that hole and I didn't need to worry about the complications of relationships.” And now he was feeling guilty for his recent behaviour. You were strangers, that was the deal. “I guess that's why I agreed to it.”

The shame poured off you in waves, the realization of everything you'd just let out into the world hitting you like a truck. You took a few more drinks of your tea, the cup covering half your face.

“I needed a new muse.” Hongjoong thought it was only fair he shared his reason too. Another part of him, one he didn't want to acknowledge, wanted you to know about his past.

“I didn't know accountants needed muses.” You joked, choking a smile out of your saddened face.

“Yeah, well, let's just say this accountant has a side-job involving art.”

“What happened to your old muse? Did you outgrow them?”

“They outgrew me.” It had been so long since he'd had to tell this story to someone, he only hoped he could get it out without choking up. “Have you ever met someone and immediately realised you want them by your side till the day you die?” You looked at him, nodding your head affirmatively. “That was my ex. We met on campus. She was late to class and I accidentally spilt coffee all over her.”

“What a k-drama way of meeting.”

“Tell me about it. So anyway, we were together for three years. It was great, like living in some fantasy. We'd spend mornings sleeping, in the afternoon she'd drag me out to do something, no matter how much I wanted to stay home. And in the evening, she'd sit and I'd paint her. Until she started leaving in the morning, and coming home late, and girls nights out kept ending with her sleeping round her friends houses.”

“Clyde...” He wished you'd said his name with pity, not the meaningless name you'd anointed to him.

“But whatever, I thought nothing about it. We just moved on from the honeymoon phase, right? On our anniversary, I took her to her favourite restaurant, some fancy place covered in enough blue to make me nauseous. The whole night I felt like shit and just wanted to go home but she didn't even notice, eyes staring off at something behind me. It was during dessert that she broke the news of her pregnancy, the restaurant owner even appeared from behind me with a celebratory bottle of champagne for us.”

“Alcohol? Sounds exactly like what a pregnant lady needs.”

Hongjoong snorted back laughter, finding comedy in the fact you had no idea what was coming next. “So we start preparing for the baby, she even has me emptying out my studio room and turning it into a nursery.” He paused, blinking till his eyes had glassed over. “I never realized I was someone who wanted kids till she told me it wasn't mine. Five months along, after sitting with her through all the morning sickness, and holding her hand at the doctors, and massaging her swollen ankles every night, she finally decides she owes me the truth. And only because the real father finally stepped up and offered to take responsibility. Guess she preferred someone who owned a restaurant instead of someone who played with arts and craft supplies for a living.”

It was you who hugged him, carefully crossing the space between you both and wrapping your arms around his torso, hand rhythmically patting his back. He hesitated momentarily before letting his arms tangle themselves around you. The first thing he noted was how warm you felt, like soup on a cold day or hot chocolate on Christmas morning. The second thing was your perfume, different to any you'd worn before, one he swore smelt like tulips.

Hongjoong melted into you, forehead pressed against your shoulder and eyes shut, washing away the tears of self-pity. He sighed and took a breath, reminding himself of the breathing exercises he'd learn to calm himself down in moments of anguish. He was thankful you continued to hold him.

“Tell me something about you.” He said- no, begged. He needed the conversation to change. He needed you to be Bonnie and him to be Clyde, instead of Kim Hongjoong and a stranger he was growing attached to.

“Classical music reminds me of sex.” The way you made him laugh so easily wasn't helping his attachment. “Don't laugh! There's the soft beginning, which is like kissing. Then comes the gentle increase, the teasing moments of undressing. The build up, the foreplay. And then the crescendo is the climax. It's sex turned into music.”

“So, when you're trying to seduce a guy, what do you do? Put on some Beethoven and throw it back?”

“Don't make me poke your ankle!”

Neither of you moved back to your original positions, even after pulling away from the hug. You sat, face to face, talking over everything and nothing. For the first time, Hongjoong hadn't lied to you once, an achievement he found less scary than he would have a month ago. And you? You hadn't lied, necessarily, simply told a half-truth. Just one. 

It couldn't hurt, right?

When you'd succumbed to sleep on his shoulder, Hongjoong decided it was probably time for bed. If it weren't for his crutches, he would have carried you into his room, given up his bed in exchange for the couch. The best he could do was lay you down on a pillow and wrap you in a blanket, leaving the hallway light on in case you awoke startled in the night.

Hongjoong fell asleep wondering how much warmer the bed would've been with you beside him.

And he woke up to a scream.

Your scream.

Cursing after he forgot about his injury and stepped down onto his ankle, Hongjoong hobbled as quickly as he could over to his crutches, completely alert as he made his way out of his room, only to stumble onto the scene of the crime.

Your hair was messed up by sleep and your face was a little puffy while you held up your pillow defensively, facing the intruder who clearly was a threat to your life: Seonghwa with a baby strapped to his chest and an amused look on his face.

“Hongjoong! How nice of you to join us!”

Oh no. Oh no. His eyes shot to you, wide, seeing you processing just exactly what Seonghwa had said. It was too early in the morning for him to try and handle this smoothly.

“How did you get in here?” He decided to focus on his friend instead, hoping if he brushed it off enough you'd forget what you heard and keep seeing him as Clyde.

“The same way you did,” Seonghwa held up his hand, a set of keys in his grasp. “a key.” He'd forgotten all about the spare key he'd given to him. And the fact he had the worst timing. “Who's this, Joong?”

“That's...” The person I've been dating but not really dating for the past few months and it's starting to get complicated, and you aren't helping by saying my name. “my person.”

“Your person?” Seonghwa parroted, a dumbfounded look on his face. “You must be feeling better, you're starting to sound like a pretentious artist again.”

“Okay, what do you want? Why are you here?” If Hongjoong had found the courage to look at you, he'd have noticed the fondness in the way you watched the two men interact.

“I forget you're not a morning person. Why was your person sleeping on the couch? Trouble in paradise?” His questions were followed up by Seonghwa slowly sitting himself down on the couch, hand cradling his son's head to his chest.

“I fell asleep on the couch while we were watching a movie.” Hongjoong had never been happier to hear you speak. “Cl- Hongjoong couldn't move me because of his crutches. Paradise is still very much good, thanks.”

Seonghwa stared past him, right at you, eyes narrowing into a calculative glare. “I like you.”

“I'm flattered. But I need to leave, got work in a couple hours.”

“Let me walk you- actually, hobble you to the door.” Hongjoong was quick, following you over to the front door and, most importantly, out of Seonghwa's hearing range. “Thanks, for last night.”

“No problem. Don't forget to take your meds." You smiled, hand patting the top of his arm. He wanted to feel what it was like to hug you again. “See you next Saturday, Clyde.”

The dopiest of smiles rested on his face, only faltering when he returned to the living room and found a knowing look on Seonghwa's face.

“Oh, shut up!” He exclaimed, throwing himself down next to him on the couch.

“I didn't say anything!”

The whistle of the boiled kettle interrupted Hongjoong’s actions, as if to stop him from making a mistake. He shoved the burner phone back into his pocket, tending to his fourth coffee of the day. The clock had barely passed eleven am. 

Making his way back into the studio, a smile lit up his face instantly at the sight of his work in progress. The canvas was more than half-way done at this point, he’d finally reached his favourite part of any piece: the details. He loved to play with the shading, the swirls of different colours and the specs of different textures. 

The whole experience of working on this last painting had sent him down a trip of nostalgic memories, some good and some bad. By far, his favourite was the memory of the opening day of his first exhibit. He could remember swelling with pride when a little boy, no taller than the height of his knees, reached out to put his hands on a canvas. Even though the mother had scolded her son, Hongjoong enjoyed the way he was touching his art, experiencing it with all his senses.

Two sips into his coffee and his mobile buzzed. Hongjoong was disappointed it wasn’t the chunky one in his pocket, but his newer model thrown somewhere behind him on the old couch.

[11:27 am] ddeonghwa: don’t forget to bring the supplies for saturday or chaeyoung will kill both of us.

Hongjoong had never been so happy to receive a text from his friend, who was completely unaware of the excuse he’d just created for him, the window of opportunity he’d opened.

to: bonnie are you busy?

Your reply was instant, making Hongjoong less embarrassed to be messaging you.

from: bonnie if staring at my notes and pretending to study is busy, then yes.

to: bonnie you could do that anywhere, technically. 

from: bonnie i could.

to: bonnie i’ve heard art stimulates people’s brains.

from: bonnie everything stimulates the brain.

to: bonnie shut up and come over, i have mango tea.

from: bonnie you should’ve opened with that, i’d be there by now.

You’d arrived in no time, quenching the deep desire he’d had to see you. It appeared two hours after you’d left on Saturday and made itself at home in Hongjoong’s brain, eating away at his conscious and begging him to message you, to think about you on days that weren’t a Saturday. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” You asked him for the third time since you’d arrived. Your textbook lay in front of you on the kitchen island but your eyes were busy watching him struggle to make your tea. “You do realize it’s only Wednesday, right? Or has dementia finally caught a hold of your brain?”

“Careful or I might accidentally use salt instead of sugar.”

You ended up taking over, making your own drink. You didn’t mind, it gave you an excuse to shut your book and stand next to him. He looked cute in his paint splattered shirt and his iron man socks. His hair was messier than you’d seen before, looking soft to touch and like it smelled of high-end shampoo. 

“I’m busy on Saturday, but I didn’t want to deprive you of your weekly company.” 

“Busy? On a Saturday?!” The exclamation in your voice was exaggerated, you both knew that. You bumped your hip into his, careful to not knock the hand that was pouring hot water into his cup of coffee. “Here I thought Saturdays were something reserved just for me.”

He hated that fact more than anything, that it was only Saturdays.

Conversation came easy between you both as you drank your warm beverages, him perched on the counter and you on one of the bar stools. You told him about upcoming exams and he told you about the recent exhibit he’d been working on. You shared the story of some guy in class who’d accidentally taken ecstasy and Hongjoong exposed the story of how Yunho had once thought he was buying cocaine in college but it was just a bag of crushed chalk. 

“Can I see your studio?” You asked, dropping your empty mug into the kitchen sink. 

“Let me just...” Hongjoong was surprised by the words coming out of his own mouth. His studio was his sanctuary. He could count on one hand the number of people he willingly allowed in there: himself, Seonghwa and Mingi once (by accident). Yet here he was, not even thinking over the choice of letting you see it. He just wanted external validation, that was all. Someone not in his immediate friend group. “clean up quickly.”

Which he did, shoving used tissue into a plastic bag, moving his dirty palette and used brushes to the sink he kept in there, turning the canvas that carried his final piece the other way, not ready for you to see it. Only once things seemed semi presentable did he call you in.

“So you’re like, the real deal?” You finally spoke for the first time since entering, eyes not sure what you wanted to stare at more. The room was so colourful, as if it contained all of Hongjoong’s personality.

“I guess? Yeah.” He’d never felt so sheepish, hands shoved in his pockets and mind racing with every worry under the sun. 

“What’s your most recent work then?”

“Oh, no no, that’s not ready for your prying eyes to see.” You groaned in frustration and he just laughed. An idea struck him, one he shouldn’t have had but there was no getting rid of it now. “I can paint you something right now though, if you want.” 

You nodded eagerly, eyes lit up in excitement. The look didn’t even fade when Hongjoong warned you it would take a few hours. “Talent can’t be rushed, I know.”

“Okay, take your top off.” You raised your eyebrows at him, a questioning look across your face. “Don’t look at me like that. Take it off and lay on the couch, on your front. You’re going to be my canvas.”

Hongjoong turned his back on you, giving you the privacy you need to undress yourself.  “That’s me done.” Your voice was muffled slightly by the leather cushion but he understood you. 

He gathered what he needed: the brushes, the paint, the sponges, the small basin of water. Setting it up next to the couch, he cleared is throat before straddling his legs over either side of you, refusing to let himself sink down completely. He wiped your back down slowly, ignoring the way you moved beneath him with every breath. 

“This might be cold.” Was his only warning before giving the first stroke of his brush. Just like he expected, you gasped beneath him, a series of inappropriate thoughts shooting through his mind. You quickly relaxed, eyes shutting while Hongjoong slowly spread the base colour over your skin.

At some point, he reached for a remote and flicked on the radio, soft music playing out and encompassing the feeling around you both. You giggled beneath him, squirming against his body and slowly killing his resolve. Hongjoong wanted to blame the paint fumes on the high he was feeling. 

“Sorry,” He heard you huff out lazily, eyes barely open. “it just tickles.”

“It’s fine.” He lied. “I used to do this with her.”

“Yeah?” You knew him so well, already aware of who he was speaking about.

“She was always impatient, rushing me to finish. It usually messed up my work.”

“She sounds like a piece of work.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, not quite understanding the smile he carried on his lips while talking about her. “she was the worst.”

By the time Hongjoong had finished, the sun had set and hours had passed. You’d drifted somewhere between sleeping and talking to him the whole time, the music keeping him company in the moments you closed your eyes. 

“Could you take a picture?” You whispered after he announced he’d finished, eyes slowly opening to readjust to the light. “My phone’s in my back pocket.”

So that’s what had been poking against him. Hongjoong was greeted by the picture of a cat, small and grey, displayed on your lockscreen. He now knew you hadn’t lied about owning one. 

His fingers worked quickly to snap a picture, body needing to remove himself from yours. He didn’t like how tight his trousers had become, the way you’d sighed and gasped and squirmed beneath him having done something to his head. He leaned over you, hands holding his weight up and off of the drying paint on your back, holding your phone out for you to see. 

“You’re...” Your words caught in your throat, eyes darting back and forth between the screen and his face. On your naked back lay a colourful field of flowers, the shadows of two people standing face to face, heads haloed by the sun. “insane.”

Maybe it was the way you were staring at his work or the way you smelt up close or the hours of growing tension in his body, but Hongjoong lost himself in the moment, lips diving down to claim your own against his. You reciprocated immediately, head angled uncomfortably to the side just to kiss him deeper.

He was glad to let you slip your tongue into him, tasting him, drinking him in while his arms gave out and he dropped down onto your back. Neither of you cared for the smudging paint between you and his shirt. He trailed his lips down your neck, breathing heavy when he felt you grind up against him, eyes rolling back as he began to match your hips with his own. 

You whined when he sat up, causing him to giggle and work at pulling his shirt off quicker, throwing it somewhere into the room. He didn’t care to watch it land on a pile of acrylic paint, too busy pressing himself back down to you, the cool paint making his nipples stand to attention and his hands sneaking under you to cup your chest, fingers tweaking at your nipples and dragging the sweetest of noises out of you. 

“Is this okay?” He mumbled between kisses along your shoulder, hands now down at the hem of your jeans, teasingly dipping under and threatening to pull them off. He just needed your consent first, to hear you wanted this as much as he did. 

“No,” Your breathing had begun to labour, chest stuttering over an inhalation. “there’s too much clothes on. Hurry up.”

He followed your command, hands dragging your jeans off with your help before your underwear followed, after he pinged the elastic onto your skin and laughed when you called him dumb. His shaky hands quickly worked at removing the rest of his own clothing. If he moved fast enough, there’d be no time to question if you two should have been doing this. 

Hongjoong was tired of thinking.

Once he was freed of the confines of clothing, cock hard against his stomach, Hongjoong spat onto his hands, grabbing himself by the base and spreading it over his shaft, lubricating his cock while you watched him from over your shoulder, your hips grinding down on the sofa, mouth agape at the little pleasure you were getting. 

When his eyes met yours, it was the last bit of encouragement he needed to align himself with your entrance, hand splayed out on your lower back while the other angled your hips up. Pushing his cock into your tightness left him feeling warmer than any hug ever could.

A few moments of stillness, and then he began to thrust, lighting both of your nerves on fire with pleasure. The music began to build gradually over the radio, in time with your rising heartbeat and racing breaths.

You began meeting his thrusts, hands trying to grip at the tattered leather under them while the sweat dripped down your back, colourful trails running down your sides and on to the couch. Hongjoong had never loved the sight of his own art so much, picking up the speed at which he pistoned his hips into yours, skin clapping against skin in time with the symphony playing over the stereo. 

The space between you became too much for Hongjoong. He needed you closer, till you were breathing the same air. Fingers tangled in your hair, he pulled you up to rest on your knees, your back meeting his chest and your face resting inches away from his own. It drove him wild to hear you moan, to see the way your eyes were hooded and your mouth failed to shut. He got cocky, shoving his fingers into your open mouth, eyes rolling back when your lips wrapped around his digits, tongue swirling over them. 

“You imagining that’s my cock in your mouth, doll?” He threw his head back when you moaned, mouth and hole stuffed full of him. 

He removed his fingers, dragging a trail of your saliva down till he found your nipples once more, covering you in your own fluids. You rocked back against him, taking his length deeper than before. His lips reattached to your neck, needing a way to filter out the string of lewd things he wanted to say.

“Clyde!” You cried out, hand shooting back to tangle itself in his hair, tugging on it and rousing a groan from his chest.

“Don’t call me that.” The music grew with his thrusts, the intensity bouncing off of the walls. “Please.”

“Hongjoong!” You corrected yourself and his hips stuttered, feeling you clench down on him in a vice grip, your orgasm washing over you without a warning. 

He fucked you through it, willing himself to hold on a little longer. The music and him reached their crescendo in sync, Hongjoong pulling out watching the thick ropes of his seed paint your back for the second time that evening, mixing in with the shades of colour you were both covered in by now.

That night, Hongjoong found out just how much warmer his bed was with you in it.

And how you looked first thing in the morning, fingers tangled with his own and a leg thrown over his hip, welcoming in every thrust he brought upon you, starting your days off in bliss. By noon, you dragged him out of bed, both your stomachs growling for food.

He left you to cook the bacon, laughing when you smacked his pyjama covered ass as he skirted past you to grab the eggs from his fridge. After cracking them into the pan next to the bacon, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest and nuzzling his head in your neck. You smelled like his shampoo, the shirt on your back tainting you in his cologne.

“Tell me something about you.” He peppered kisses over your neck, only to hear you laugh at how his hair tickled you.

“I like the deal we have.”

“Me too.”

You both lied but your lips met before either of you could call the other out on it, bacon sizzling below. His fingers met the hem of your shirt- his shirt, really-, inching it up slowly. He couldn’t recognise the man he’d become, hungry for your affection and desperately in need of you against him.

“What kind of porno have I walked into?”

You both jumped apart, eyes wide as you came face to face with none other than Park Seonghwa, who’s hands were shielding his eyes.

Hongjoong needed to take the spare key off of him. 

“Don’t you ever knock?” Hongjoong groaned in frustration, watching how you diverted your attention back to the breakfast you’d been cooking. 

“You knew I was coming over!” Seonghwa sat at the island, watching you in amusement while Hongjoong wished he’d go away. “Remember? You’re coming with me to make sure Wooyoung doesn’t try buy my daughter something inappropriate. It was bad enough he bought a bib with bros before hoes written across it for little Minho’s baby shower last year.”

You laughed, switching the stove off once the food was done and turned around to face them both. “Wooyoung sounds fun.”

“Yeah, till you meet him and realise he’s an adult who hasn’t grown out of his frat-boy phase.” Did Hongjoong feel a flash of green at the prospect of you finding Wooyoung fun? No, not at all, why would he care what you thought?

“Speaking of meeting that cretin, you should come to my daughter’s birthday party this Saturday. She’s two, so the party is just an excuse for a bunch of parents to get drunk while their kids make a mess of my back garden.” Seonghwa had been nagging Hongjoong since he’d met you last weekend to invite you to the party, and each time Hongjoong had said no. It seemed he’d decided to take matters into his own hands. “I never caught your name, by the way.”

“Uh...” Your eyes skirted over to Hongjoong. He just hoped you wouldn’t say Bonnie. Not after everything that happened in the last twenty four hours. “Y/N. That’s my... uh, name. Yeah.”

“Okay Y/N, I’ll make sure your boyfriend here brings you along to the party. Though, you might want to wear more than just his shirt, Wooyoung kinda has a thing for legs.”

Hongjoong held back from swearing, nearly tripping over the toddler that had just ran past his feet. 

The party was full, more children than adults and only a few poor sober, breastfeeding mothers stuck with the responsibility of taking care of them. Everyone else had been more than happy to indulge in the drinks Chaeyoung and Seonghwa had provided, the prior just excited to have her first drink since bringing the couple’s six month old son into the world.

He was glad to have you by his side. At the Park’s first birthday party for their daughter, Sodam, Hongjoong was fresh out of a break up and dealing with the looks of pity and apologetic words from his and the couple’s friends alike. It felt good to have them all keen to know how he’d met you, how long you’d been together, what plans you had, even if everything you two said was a lie. 

Yunho and Mingi had been made to believe the two of you met in a grocery store, while you were buying a bottle of rosé and him some celery. You’d insisted on coming up with that story, laughing for reasons Hongjoong couldn’t quite understand. San and his fiancé had been told it was in a museum, you a tour guide who’d been corrected by Hongjoong on some fact about Picasso. Wooyoung, Yeosang, Jongho and his girlfriend were recounted the story of how you’d been a fan of him since his first exhibit, and were incapable of not approaching him when you spotted him in a coffee shop.

He now stood at a distance, Chaeyoung’s orders that he leave you alone for some time. Which apparently meant Chaeyoung, San’s fiancé and Jongho’s girlfriend giggling at everything you said. It warmed his heart to see you gain their approval, knowing they cared for him like a brother. The whole day had made him realise how much he had, more friends than he gave himself credit, more reasons to smile than he’d believed.

“You’re a lucky man.”

Hongjoong nearly jumped out of his own skin, turning around to come face to face with Chaeyoung’s co-worker. Hyeri! That was her name! “Huh? Oh, yeah, I am.”

“It’s nice to see you with someone,” She still had that smile on her face, just like she’d had on their date. Hongjoong no longer envied her because of it. “you seem more like the guy Seonghwa told me about.”

Her words meant everything to him. Hongjoong really did feel like himself again, no longer the empty shell. Sure, he still had a long way to go before he was fully there but, for now, he could accept no longer stopping himself from wearing colour and asking for milk in his coffee. “What about you? Anyone trying to sweep you off your feet?”

“Oh no, not for me. Though, your friend Wooyoung did try shoot his shot.” That sounded about right.

He was about to answer when his eyes drifted back over to you, where he found one of Seonghwa’s famous homemade cupcakes in your hand, moments away from taking your first bite. He excused himself quickly and hurried over, ripping the treat from your grasp and dropping it back onto the table, ignoring the look Chaeyoung was shooting his way and your protests.

Clearly no one had warned you about the special ingredient. “You can’t eat that, it’s full of strawberry jam.”

You stuck to the chocolate cookies for the rest of the night.

Come nine o’clock, the children had all crashed down from their sugar high and guests began to leave, Seonghwa waving you two off from the door. He’d nearly invited you to Hongjoong’s exhibition in two weeks but, fortunately, he understood the artist’s widened eyes and shaking head.

Hongjoong wanted to ask you privately, in his own time.

“It’s not quite your apartment but,” You moved aside, welcoming a tipsy Hongjoong into your home. “it’s enough for me.”

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye so early in the evening, convincing you to take him back to your place. You lived closer to Seonghwa, anyway. It made sense, right? Hongjoong was just thinking logically when he’d let you lead him to your door, hand intertwined in his, an occasional brush of his lips against your knuckles when he’d cover his drunken giggles with your hands.

Your apartment was much smaller than his, but it didn’t mean anything to him. He liked the way little details about you decorated the place, magazines and books and candles littered in odd places. He enjoyed being trusted into your safe space, knowing how difficult of a thing it was for him to do with people, with strangers. Were you two still strangers?

“Sorry, I need to go drop something off to my neighbour. They keep delivering her mail to me for some reason.” You announced after a while of sitting next to him on the couch, not doing much yet filling Hongjoong’s heart with joy. He pulled you into his kiss for the first time all day, hand cupping your cheek while his lips begged you to do it later, to stay with him right now. “I’ll be ten minutes, tops. Feel free to snoop around if you get bored.”

He originally wasn’t going to do as you said, telling himself he wasn’t so childish as to look through someone’s things. But, you had given him permission. And he was bored, alcohol hitting him harder than ever and demanding he stand up and move. So he filtered through your book case, laughing at the few romance novels you had, raising his eyebrows at the untouched copy of 50 Shades Of Grey. He imagined it was a gag gift, no pun intended. 

His hands picked up some of your textbooks, finding he quite liked your handwriting. It was a neat mess. And, from the writings on the pages, he gathered you were majoring in something like psychology, a lot of big words and talk of cognitive behaviour. He flicked to the more recent notes you’d made,

His heart dropped to his stomach.

“Okay, I’m back. Jeez that woman can talk, she kept trying to invite...” You stumbled back through the door, freezing in your tracks. Your eyes flickered between Hongjoong’s frown and the notebook in his hand. “Hongjoong...”

“What is this about?” His voice was eerily calm, that feeling of euphoria laced tipsiness long gone. 

“What do you mean?”

“Date one: the subject seems boring, like he lacks his own personality. He relies on facts and big words to get him by. Maybe he’s a narcissist? I’m not quite sure yet, but it certainly must take a level of arrogance to put yourself on a dating site, you need to rely on your looks to seem intriguing.” Hongjoong spat your own notes out at you, hand clenching the paper with the grip he had. “Date two: he’s more stiff than a plank of wood. I accidentally brushed my hand against him while we grabbed at the clay and he froze up completely. Do i need to keep going?”

“No, I understand.” You cleared your throat, nervous and unsure of what to do. You’d never seen him angry. “And I know how it looks-”

“Know how it looks?! Yeah, it looks like you were studying me like some lab rat.” He snapped, slapping the offensive notebook down onto your coffee table. “Is this what you’ve been using our dates for? Some sick, twisted study?”

“Yes- No! It’s more complicated than that! It’s not like I could even use those notes in my thesis! It would be unethical, since you didn’t know about it.”

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so? That makes everything better, come let’s sit and talk about how you psychoanalyzed me!” His voice had begun to raise, not yelling but certainly not the soft tone he addressed you with. If only he flicked a few more pages, he’d have noticed how you’d stopped taking notes after the third date. “God, you’re such a liar, feeding me that bullshit about being lonely. Were you just telling me what I wanted to hear?”

“That wasn’t a lie!” You insisted, wanting to move closer but fearing it wasn’t what he wanted right now. “It was just some meaningless study on dating apps, okay? You weren’t going to be featured in it. I even changed my thesis subject weeks ago, just look for yourself!”

“If you think that makes me feel better, you’re dumber than I thought.” It stung to hear those words come from Hongjoong, your sad eyes only making him madder. How dare you be sad, as if he were the one who had wronged you, lied to you. “You’re just like her, you know? Full of shit.”

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re any better than me!” The frustration of his accusations and his ruthless words brought forth the anger in you. “Standing there like you haven’t been using me as some replacement for your ex. Newsflash! She’s moved on. She moved on before you even ended things, so why don’t you do the same?”

Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing as he sighed. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, willing himself to not blow his last fuse. When he reopened his eyes, his hands grabbed his jacket off of the couch and he marched past you, ripping the door open. 

“Where are you going?” You called after him.

“Somewhere I don’t need to worry about being a test subject.”

As he slammed the door shut, he heard you yell after him: “See you next Saturday.”

Only, you never did see each other that day.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Hongjoong had been zoning in and out from the conversation all morning, mind adrift somewhere else. He needed sleep, but all he had was lacklustre coffee and a headache. “Sorry, not been sleeping well.”

“Pre-exhibition jitters?” The woman, Mrs. Kwon, asked him from across the table, smiling politely. She was the art gallery’s director and she’d more or less overseen the entire process of preparing Hongjoong’s upcoming event.

“Something like that.”

“That’s understandable, I once had an artist burst into tears and beg that the whole event be cancelled... five minutes before the opening!” She laughed and Hongjoong tried to mimic it as earnestly as possible, smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I’m sure your agent, Seonghwa, has briefed you on everything but I’d like to just go over it again to make sure everything is perfect come Saturday.”

Hongjoong zoned out again, drowning out the woman’s voice. He could always ask Seonghwa to change something if he changed his mind last minute. If there was one thing he had to commend that man for, it was his powers of persuasion. Just four days after the birthday party, he’d coaxed the truth out of Hongjoong. The whole truth.

While she rambled on about opening hours and the placements for each piece, Hongjoong’s eyes drifted over to the counter, a queue of people waiting to grab their order. His throat went dry as his eyes met a familiar pair, which stared back at him empty and unfeeling, like when he stared in the mirror.

He willed himself to ignore it, to turn back and pay attention to the woman in front of him. It worked for a few minutes before he heard the bell above the door ring, turning just in time to see your retreating form. He dashed out of his seat, ignoring Mrs. Kwon calling his name and pushed himself out the door. 

“Y/N!” He called out after you, stopping behind you when you whipped around to face him. It hurt to see your eyes hadn’t changed from the cafe. “It’s not what you think-”

“What I think doesn’t matter.” You refused to meet his stare, cheek turned to him while you stared through the window of the cafe, at his empty chair and the beautiful woman waiting for him to return. “And whatever it is, it’s none of my business. We’re nothing, we never have been. Now, if you’ll allow me, I have to get to class. My test subjects are awaiting me.”

“Y/N.” He tried reaching for your hand, begging you with the call of your name to wait, to let him talk. 

“Stop calling me that! We don’t call each other by real names, remember? That was the deal.”

“I think we crossed the boundaries of our deal long ago.”

“Well I’m cancelling it all together, officially.” You readjusted the strap of your bag, taking a step back. “Goodbye, Clyde.”

Hongjoong had forgotten how cold the air felt against his neck. 

He’d been unsure of the drastic change, up until the moment Yeosang had snipped off the first few strands of hair. The mullet was gone and, in it’s place, blonde hair paired with an undercut sat. When he’d woken up that morning, lazily running his fingers through his hair, he decided he quite liked the shorter, neater style.

All day, he’d received compliments on his looks, those who had attended his first exhibit noting how much he’d grown in the few years since and newer fans of his work claiming they’d had no idea he was so young. He liked that they expected someone older, it made him feel more solidified in the art world, like his work came across as mature and well-nurtured.

His speech was short, thanking those he had to before quickly handing the microphone over to Seonghwa, who was always a charmer with crowds. He had them all laughing in no time, recounting the horrors of dealing with Hongjoong as a client.

Finally, for the first moment all day, Hongjoong found a pocket of silence for himself, managing to drift away from the crowds of people and the flutes of champagne that had started to make him feel a little sick. He stood alone, staring at the last part of his collection. 

He was proud of his work, no matter the bittersweet story it told. 

Every piece in his collection chronicled the past two years of his life, starting from the moment his relationship had began to fall apart, carrying through the months of misery, the loneliness, the acceptance, the moving on. It was his visual presentation of the stages of grieving a relationship, the final part being the most important. 

Because he had to move. He had to keep living, for no one but himself.

He had moved on. 

He knew it from the way he no longer avoided old pictures of her, from the way he could think about her and feel nothing. Not even the anger remained. She wasn’t worth the energy he’d spent so long wasting on her.

“This one doesn’t make me sad.” Hongjoong’s silence was interrupted. 

He could feel you standing next to him, staring at the same art he was. He never bothered turning his head to look at you, he saw you behind his eyelids every time he blinked. 

“How come?” 

“It’s reminds me of self-love.”

The face in the painting was much like his own, spare for a few details. One half was littered in shades of blue and grey, rose thorns stabbing at his skin while dead flowers and sharp twigs replaces what should’ve been his eyes. The other half was colourful, bright, smiling with vines wrapped around it and blossoming tulips on his lips, eyes peacefully closed. 

He sighed, turning to look at you at last. You copied him, eyes not like the last time he’d seen you. You looked pensive, nervous, like you were shy to be in his company.

“I hope you know how sorry I am.” He said, wishing there was someway to tell you he wanted to touch you without having to actually say it.

He just wanted to know you were real.

“I do.” You nodded, lips pursing together. “Just like you know how sorry I am too. I should’ve been honest with you that night. It would’ve saved a lot of trouble.”

He couldn’t disagree with you. If you’d told him, the two of you wouldn’t have fought that night. He would’ve invited you to his exhibition and would’ve returned into your waiting arms after his speech. But things didn’t always go the way people planned.

He was learning to be okay with that.

“How did you know?” He stared down at your hands, fingers rubbing together as he contemplated reaching for one. “About today, I mean.”

“Seonghwa is really good at guilt tripping people.” He laughed, knowing fine well what you meant. He needed to thank Seonghwa for whatever he’d said.

Your gazes both returned to the painting, the distant chatting of approaching people buzzing around you. 

“Are you free next Saturday, Bonnie?” His heart was in his hand, waiting and begging for you to lay claim on it.

“No.”

He sighed in defeat.

Your hand tugged at his own, intertwining your fingers.

“I’m afraid I’ll be spending it with Kim Hongjoong, sorry.”

Seonghwa was calling him.

Hongjoong hit decline.

The man was only calling for two reasons: to panic talk all about Hongjoong’s fourth exhibit- that was still months away and by no means something that needed worrying about- or to ask him if he’d done it yet.

Both were conversations he wasn’t in the mood for.

His eyes only left your sleeping form to stare down at the sketching pad in his hand, graphite shading and soft lines making up the form of his muse, Chopin playing gently as background noise to his scribbling and your breathing.

As he bent down to grasp his mug of coffee, the weight of the little box dragged the inside of his sweatpants pocket down, a reminder of the question he'd been meaning to ask you.

There was no rush, you were enjoying your rest.

Hongjoong could wait a few more hours.

[shinescape]

Her Innocence

Cat Hybrid Seonghwa x Fem Reader x Cat Hybrid San

Requested!

tw: poly relationship, innocent reader, men being disgusting

note: i had slight difficulty while writing this but it's done! Hope you like how this turned out anon. Enjoy the read <3

Your boyfriends are aware of your part time job at a cafe. They weren’t opposed to the idea and even visited you at your job once in a while. Well, you’ve been working there for quite some time and they know almost everything that happens in the cafe.

How? Because they morphed themselves into cats and followed you to work everyday without you knowing of course. If Seonghwa had classes while you had to run to your job, San would be the one to secretly accompany you, as a cat of course.

It’s not that they don’t trust you but there has been a number of times where you would stop and help someone and eventually fall victim to ill intention strangers.

The fact that they had been doing this for a couple of months and you still thought it was random street cats that helped you was a good sign to keep going with what they were doing.

You didn’t suspect a thing because one of them usually picks you up after work so you assumed that they were at home most of the time if they had no classes to attend.

“I might be late today, have dinner without me alright?” You pouted as you typed a reply to your manager saying you’ll come to work as soon as possible. “What? It’s your day off, no you can’t go. Come home with us.” San clung his arm around you, holding you back from moving.

“I’m sorry but I have to go, they’re short on staff. Good luck on your test. You too, Hwa.” You pulled your arm away from San and waved at them before jogging off, leaving two very anxious boyfriends behind.

“Screw this test, I’m going after her.” Seonghwa held onto the younger’s arm, pulling him back to the bench. “We go after the test.”

“To be honest, I didn't have a good feeling the moment she got that message.” Seonghwa kept quiet because he too felt the same way, as if you’ll be in danger.

The fact that this happened on the day where all three of you were supposed to be free from schedule, doesn’t sit right with them.

Today was different and you were nervous as heck. Not only was it your first time working on your off day, it also happened to be Wishing Wednesday. A themed day specifically made to raise awareness for stray animals.

“I hope you’re fine working at the front today.” Your manager patted your back as you smiled back at her. Fixing the cat ears on your head, you waited by the counter to greet the incoming customers. You mentally cheered yourself and gave your best smile as a customer walked in the shop.

Later on, a group of young men entered and you ushered them to a vacant spot. As they were discussing, you looked outside and observed life through the floor to ceiling window. Two cats passing by caught your attention briefly when one of the men called you. “It says here, for every order you will do a little performance for us. Is that true?”

You took the single laminated paper and read it before nodding your head. “Ah yes, so are you ready to give your orders?” With each order, you had to act cutely which was starting to get uncomfortable. Halfway through their orders, you were fully embarrassed as some of them started to record you but you didn’t know what to do.

“Come on, don’t stop. You still have three more orders to go, sweetie.” A round of laughter emerged from the table. Leaving you who was trying to ask for help from your colleagues but everyone was dashing about the place unaware of your situation.

“Hey, why did you stop catgirl, dance for us?”

All of a sudden, two cats jumped onto the table and messed up everything on it. They went to scratch anyone that was in sight before jumping back down to your side. You had no time to stop the chaos as it happened in a flash.

The group of men started to stand up as one of them pushed you down. “What kind of place lets stray animals in like this?” He was about to get his hands on you when someone else kicked him back to his group of friends.

“The one acting like a stray here is you. Leave before you end up getting more than scratches.” San threatened them. They glared back at San before rushing out from the cafe.

Seonghwa was helping you stand back up and inspecting every part of you, looking for any injuries. “You’re coming home, right now.” Seonghwa stated and you knew better to listen then argue back with him.

The mood back at home was heavy and quiet. You had just finished explaining to them what Wishing Wednesday was and why you insist on a day off for it.

“So you wanted to spend every Wednesday with us because the event reminded you of us?” You nodded trying to win their heart back after what had happened earlier.

“Well both my boyfriends are cat hybrids and we coincidentally have no classes every Wednesday. It’s only natural to spend the day with both of you.” You reasoned smiling at both of them.

"We got so worried, maybe you should stop working altogether.” San pulled your head to his chest and hugged you tight.

The nauseating feeling you had earlier at the cafe was slowly disappearing when both your lovers gushed over you. You can’t deny that they always make you feel safe.

“No, I can’t stop working. I don’t want to be a burden.” You loosely hugged him back as you locked eyes with Seonghwa who was watching the both of you.

“You’re not a burden, sweetheart. But if you insist on continuing then just be prepared for us to walk you every single day from now on.” Seonghwa bent over to ruffle your hair.

“But, we’ve been doing that. Haven’t we, Hwa?”

You noticed Seonghwa glaring at San a bit too hard before looking back at you. “What did he mean by that? Have you been sending me to work all this time?” You looked up at San who nervously laughed back at you.

Seonghwa rubbed his temples before explaining to you what they’ve been up to all this while. At each word, your mouth went agape and eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re saying the two cats that have been with me while walking to work were both of you?” Memories of a Shorthair black cat walking beside you as it hissed at incoming passersby rushed back to you and not forgetting the Siamese cat that keeps on circling your legs as you head to work.

Now that the cat’s out of the bag, they don’t need to worry about you getting hurt or about them getting found out by you. Only then you realised those cats were wearing collars similar to the ones around your boyfriends right now. “How did I not notice the collars?” You mumbled to yourself.

“We both wondered the same thing too, my innocent baby.” San squished both your cheeks before pressing a kiss on your lips. You giggled at the touch before cupping his face in your palms.

“Thank you for always being there for me.” You pecked him again on the lips before getting up and dropping yourself into Seonghwa’s open arms.

“Thank you too, Hwa.” You smiled at him before snuggling your head on his chest. “Don’t I get a kiss too?” You gasped and tilted your head to kiss him when he lowered down and surprised you with a kiss instead. Seonghwa pulled away and pecked your forehead before turning over to San.

“Should we get her a collar too, in case anything happens to her like today?” He was obviously being playful but you were listening very seriously to his words.

“I think we should, seeing how cute she was in those cat ears earlier. Others might think she’s a hybrid like us.” San added before he glimpsed over at you.

Your innocence made them want to protect you even more. No matter what form they’re in, keeping you safe has always been their top priority.

[peachyteez]

SPECIAL REQUEST: when they find a child hybrid

HEAVEN SERIES SPECIAL STORY

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight, @everrrlasting, @bls-luv-me, @atzgiggle, @arohabyeol, @rainbowmagicpixecorn, @soverystupid, @ayetothezee, @kingalls00, @sanstreasure0305, @sparklingmallow, @kpopnightingale, @rosesarethebest​, @bonbonhwa, @its-sarah-stark, @woopetals, @sanismybb, @frankenstein852, @peachseok

✧ note: just imagine the toddler to be kotaro from gakuen babysitters 🥺

✧ WARNING: just an unhealthy amount of fluff hehe

“noona!”

feeling a little tug on her pant leg, jiyu looked down and found the most adorable little mouse hybrid staring up at her. the boy looked to be about four years old, and he had the squishiest–looking cheeks and big emerald–green eyes.

but what was the little one doing out when it was night time? where were his parents? maybe it was a good thing she decided to walk to the station for work today rather than drive.

the toddler put his arms out and up towards her as his eyes sparkled. “noona...” he called out again.

she hesitantly picked him up and his arms instantly wrapped around her neck. “hey little guy,” she cooed, using her index finder to gently rub his cheek. “where’d you come from?” she asked.

the child didn’t respond, but opted to nuzzle his head into the crook of her neck before falling asleep. she slightly panicked. “ohmygod, what do i do? can i even take him with me? is that considered kidnapping—what kind of question is that jiyu? of course it is!” she frantically whisper–shouted to herself as she scanned the neighborhood for anyone who seemed to be looking for a child.

but no one was around.

she sighed before starting to walk back towards home. i guess i’ll take him with me and we can look for his parents tomorrow. but i hope the others don’t mind a little mouse hybrid.

turns out, she had nothing to worry about; the eight hybrids absolutely adored the little one in her arms when she arrived home. even san, a cat hybrid.

“he’s so cute!” san and wooyoung squealed.

“he’s so tiny,” mingi commented when he saw how snug the child fit in jiyu’s arms.

“shhh! you’re all going to wake him up,” seonghwa quickly shushed the squealing hybrids.

jiyu quietly chuckled. “i hope you guys don’t mind him staying over. i found him on the way home and he just kind of clung onto me,” she explained, although she figured the boys didn’t really need any persuading.

“look at his little hands!” yunho quietly squealed, entranced with the tiny mouse. his squeal caught jongho’s attention as he, too adoringly stared at the child’s little hands wrapped around jiyu’s neck.

hongjoong snorted. “i pretty sure we’re all okay with it,” he said, internally chuckling at how the younger ones were all cooing at the sleeping child. “besides, we all know how stubborn you are when it comes to hybrid care, so you’d still keep the little one here even if we had the mind to object.”

“you’re not wrong,” she chuckled. “now, move so i can put this little one to bed,” she teasingly jabbed wooyoung’s ribs, who squeaked at the ticklish feeling.

leaving the whining boys behind, she climbed up the stairs to her bedroom before gently laying the toddler onto her bed. he instantly cuddled into the mattress, instinctively hugging his tail as he continued to sleep. it took everything in jiyu’s willpower to not squeal at how adorable he was. she gently tucked him in, making sure her comforter was keeping him warm. once she washed up and changed into her pajamas, jiyu quietly left the room to join the others downstairs in the living room. 

“he was just out by himself?” jongho asked, surprised that a child would be out by himself.

“maybe his parents didn’t realize he was gone?” wooyoung suggested, sprawling himself over seonghwa’s and her lap on the couch. 

“but wouldn’t that be a bit weird? to not know your own kid went missing?” yeosang commented from the floor. 

“can’t we have yuta’s help ?” mingi wondered. 

jiyu slightly shook her head. “he’s currently out of the country with my father on some business.”

hongjoong pursed his lips in thought. “alright, i guess we’ll have to—”

suddenly, crying was heard from the top of the staircase. whipping their heads up to the sound, they saw the toddler mouse hybrid crying as he frantically searched for them. “noona!” he called out, seemingly looking for jiyu. 

jiyu immediately ran to the top and picked him up before bouncing him softly on her hip. “shhh, it’s okay, i’m here,” she cooed as she brought him back to the couch. seeing eight other hybrids around them, the child let out a startled squeak before burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

jiyu had to stifle her laughter seeing their deflated figures. they surely weren’t that scary, were they?

“it’s okay, they’re my friends,” she reassured. 

the mouse peered up at her. “hyungs are noona’s friends?” he repeated, eyes sparkling with curiosity. however, upon meeting san’s eyes, his face morphed into one of child-like horror before once again, burying his face into jiyu’s neck. 

wooyoung burst out into dolphin laughter. “he—he’s scared of san!” he roared with laughter, causing san to sulk. 

while jiyu was softly scolding wooyoung, seonghwa slowly brought his face towards the mouse in her arms. “what’s your name, little one?” he gently asked. 

the mouse slowly lifted his head from jiyu’s shoulder to face seonghwa. “m-minseok.”

“how come he’s not scared of hongjoong-hyung or seonghwa-hyung?” san pouted. “it’s just me...”

“i mean, you are a cat hybrid, san,” yeosang pointed out. “and minseok is a mouse hybrid...”

jiyu quietly chuckled before looking down at minseok in her lap. “do you want this hyung to hold you?” she asked, referring to seonghwa. seonghwa’s eyes sparkled when he saw minseok nodding in approval. 

minseok curiously climbed up to seonghwa’s shoulders and sat with each leg over a shoulder. seonghwa slightly groaned at the sudden weight, but he didn’t want to deny the child of his curious adventures. “hyung’s ears. fluffy,” he mindlessly mused as he played with them.

yunho childishly squealed at how adorable minseok was before leaning over towards him. minseok looked over and reached out towards yunho’s ears, too. “this hyung, too.” yunho giggled and leaned in closer so minseok could touch his ears.

“ah...bunny!”

mingi squeaked when he realized minseok was pointing at him with an expression of awe. the mouse climbed down from seonghwa’s shoulders (seonghwa held onto him, of course), and waddled over to mingi with his arms outstretched. mingi took minseok into his lap and let him play with his ears. 

jiyu and the other couldn’t help but feel their hearts burst over how cute the scene was. she fell back into the couch with a grin. “please, my heart can’t take so much cuteness in one day.”

and slowly, minseok started to warm up to them. he would waddle over to one of them and reach up to play their soft ears, before waddling over to someone else. although when it came to wooyoung, minseok tilted his head in confusion. 

“h-hyung...no ears,” minseok pointed to the top of wooyoung’s head. wooyoung giggled. “i’m a dolphin hybrid,” he said, giggling louder when minseok just stared back with a blank, unknowing expression. “do you know what a dolphin looks like, minseok?”

minseok shook his head as he stared back up at wooyoung. his blank expression changed to one of happiness and eye-sparkling fascination when wooyoung presented him a dolphin plushie. “they look like this! and they swim in the ocean.”

minseok took the plushie into his arms and hugged it. “hyung...fishy!” he happily squealed, seeming so proud that he made the connection. jongho snorted, having a new nickname for his hyung. 

“i-uh-yes, fishy,” wooyoung relented after seeing minseok’s excitement. 

“minseok-ah,” jongho called out to him. “mr. cat is getting a little sad and lonely over here,” he said, gesturing to the sulking black cat next to him. “do you want to come say hi?”

minseok froze as he stared at san, who looked back with a small pout. it was an interesting scene, a cat hybrid wanting a mouse hybrid’s approval. minseok grabbed onto the hem of jiyu’s pants and looked up to her, as if asking for her permission.

jiyu chuckled and ruffled his hair. “he won’t bite, little one. it’s okay,” she gently nudged him towards san who was looking at minseok hopefully. with bated breath, the others watched as minseok slowly approached san with the plushie tightly held in his arms. 

once he was an arm’s length away from san, minseok slowly extended his hand and tapped on san’s leg before quickly retracting it. minseok stood there for a second, anticipating san’s moves, but all san did was tilt his head as he stared down at him. minseok repeated the action again, and this time, san giggled.

deeming san as safe, minseok grinned before climbing into his lap and cuddling into san’s chest with the plushie. the others quietly celebrated, chuckling when they saw how san’s expression lit up like a christmas tree. 

a few hours passed and minseok had fully warmed up to everyone. as he played hide-and-seek with jongho and yunho, their door bell sounded. opening the door, jiyu saw a boy bent over with his hands on his knees. from his state, she figured he must have ran either up the stairs or sprinted here from the elevator. 

but once she took a closer look, she saw a pair of familiar ears. mouse ears. her eyes widened in recognition. “are you—”

“i’m really sorry to bother you this late at night,” the boy said as he tried standing up straight again. the boy seemed young enough to be a high school student. “but i was told by the lady at the front desk that she saw you carrying a toddler mouse hybrid...?”

“ah, are you related to minseok?” she asked.

the boy frantically nodded. “yes, that’s my little brother! i guess he accidentally wandered off from our front yard when my mom looked away to talk to our neighbor...” he sheepishly explained. 

jiyu chuckled. “it’s quite alright. he’s really adorable and even managed to charm my own hybrids. come on in, i’ll go get him for you.”

the boy bowed to her out of gratitude. “thank you so much!”

“minseok-ah!” jiyu called out for the child mouse hybrid. “your brother is here!”

hearing that, the eight boys slightly deflated and pouted. minseok really did crawl into their hearts and made himself a home. minseok came running out of his hiding spot, which was under the blanket on the couch. “huh? hyunseok-hyung!”

running to his older brother, minseok jumped into his lap and snuggled himself deeper. hyunseok couldn’t even be angry at his little brother. instead, he gently flicked the younger’s forehead. “minseok, do you know how much you scared us?” he lightly scolded. 

minseok pouted. “sorry, hyung...” he fiddled with the plushie in his arms. for some odd reason, he never once let go of the dolphin plushie from wooyoung. 

with a small smile, hyunseok picked up his little brother and bowed to them again. “i’m really sorry, again...”

“it’s alright! he’s really fun to play with,” yunho giggled. the other seven nodded in agreement. 

minseok grinned. “hyungs and i...played hide-and-seek!” he excitedly told his brother all about his little adventure. “and...their ears are so fluffy!”

hyunseok chuckled. “i see you had a fun adventure. but it’s time to go home now, so let’s say bye bye to these nice hyungs and noona.”

minseok’s face slightly fell, realization dawning on him that he had to say bye to them. jiyu noticed and she softly smiled. “you know, if you want, you can come over anytime if little minseok here wants to play again with them,” she offered.

“i-i can’t trouble with that—”

“it’ll be no trouble, trust me!” jiyu reassured. “and it seems like minseok likes that idea along with these eight goofballs,” she chuckled, seeing all of their sparkly eyes. 

hyunseok smiled. “thank you, then!” he agreed before looking at the time. “ah, we really have to go now. my mom’s actually waiting downstairs,” he said. “say bye bye, minseok.”

minseok waved his little hand. “byebye!” he cutely babbled out. 

jiyu smiled. “bye! be safe on the way home!”

after seeing them off, wooyoung slightly pouted at the absence of minseok. suddenly, his eyes widened. “wait my plushie—actually it’s okay, he can have it.”

“you’re all really good with children,” jiyu complimented. 

seonghwa quietly chuckled. “well, we did learn from the best.”

“he—he just indirectly called us children!” mingi pouted once he realized the underlying meaning in seonghwa’s words. 

“he’s not really wrong,” jiyu teased, laughing when the younger hybrids whined. 

“yeah, children.” hongjoong snorted. 

[astrojoong]

Hongjoong - Migraine Comfort

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Length: Bullet Pointed, sort of a Reaction

Warnings: Mentions of pain? nausea? 

AN: okay so this was originally going to be a full blown drabble, BUT I am very depressed and can’t seem to complete it, so I think I’m going to be posting them as bullet points/reactions for rn and then I’ll plan on fleshing them out and probably posting them to ao3. I say them bc this is part of a bunch of comfort fics that I’m writing, one prompt per member, one fic for each member! anyways lmk what ya’ll think! 

Ok so you and Joong have been dating for a while

They very recently ended promotions for a comeback and were BEAT

so when Joong texted you letting you know that they had their first free day in a while you were Excited to say the least

Work had been rough the past week and you really missed Joong during promotions 

and to a lesser extent, the boys

you arrive like a bit past one, just like you said you would, and were disappointed but not surprised, to find that half of the members were still asleep

At least Joong was up, that's all you could ask for tbh

Because you missed the boys as well as Your Boy, you and the awake members (read: Hwa, Yeo, and Jongho) decide to watch a movie together.

You all settle in the living room, getting all comfy and cuddly to watch a movie together 

It starts off calm. 

but

BUT

it is Ateez

even when the other members start to make their way into the living room around the end of the first movie and the start of the second, it doesn’t get crazy YET

but it was only a matter of time

you think it started with Wooyoung’s questions and commentary during the start of the second movie, but its hard to say how exactly you got to this point

u and joong are still on the couch, u leaning against him with his arms around your shoulder, holding you to him while he rests his chin gently on your head

yeo is on the other end of the couch and all three of you are watch the Shit Show go down

The innocent act of eating popcorn while watching a movie has devolved into a full blown battle of spitting kernels and flicking popcorn at one another

Its woosan on one side, yungi on the other

Seonghwa was in the middle, acting as both a shield and a target as he attempted to get the boys to ceasefire in the hopes of mitigating an already disastrous mess

jongho had abandoned the chaos in favor of napping in his room now that it was free of any distractions

as amusing as all this was, you were a little distracted.

you were getting a headache

well, at this point, you HAD a headache

you weren’t sure when exactly it had started but at this point you Certainly felt it

you hadn’t been too concerned, thinking it was probably just a tension headache since you had been all tensed up for the past month due to work

but now

now you were feeling nauseous 

which is a Bad sign

as nonchalantly as you can, you extract yourself from joong shooting him an apologetic look and make ur way to the bathroom

the farther u got from the cacophony, the less nauseous you became

which gave u a Theory

a theory that you tested when you entered the restroom and didn't turn on the light 

just as you suspected

your headache ebbed just a touch and the nausea lessened

it was a migraine

you had a little experience with migraines before, you knew yours didn’t present with an aura so you never got a warning before one hit 

you were thankful to have gotten yourself to a dark, quiet room before it hit full stride, which it was doing right now

all you could really do was curl up in a ball on the cool tiles and softly groan in pain 

which is exactly how joong found you 

when you had gotten up originally he noticed you seemed a little off but decided to say nothing and planning on seeing how you looked when you returned, maybe checking in then

after a couple minutes you could hear your phone chime, recognizing Hongjoong’s assigned text tone, but you were in far too much pain to do anything 

plus you knew how painful the light from your phone would be

so after a few more minutes, with his text remaining unseen, he came to check up on you himself

he knocks on the door and all you can really do is moan pitifully in response 

which does NOT comfort the poor boy

he was already worried before but now you sound like you’re in pain

when he opens the door you wince and retract from the light and now the faint sound of the rest of the boys’ distant antics

noticing your reaction, he crouches down to softly push some of your hair out of your face and stroke it lovingly

his voice gets really soft and he asks what's wrong 

you explain the best you can which is really just whimpering the word migraine at him 

he sighs and gives your head a few gentle pats before saying “wait here” in the same, soft tone, and standing up

he gently closes the door behind him 

through the door you can hear him use his “Leader Voice” as he speaks to the members

you aren’t really aware enough to catch any specific words, all u know is that you’re for sure glad that the noise had died down a considerable amount 

some time later

it could’ve been anywhere from 3 to 10 minutes, you aren’t really in a place to note the passage of time, joong returns.

as he slowly opens the door, you brace yourself, but it doesn’t hurt like it had before

he had the lights in the hall way turned off

joong helps you up off of the floor and guides you toward him and hwa’s shared room

there he has the lights off and the curtains drawn

on his bedside table there are two icepacks, a glass of water and a bottle of over the counter pain meds waiting for you

he helps you sit down and hands you the water and deposits two pills into your palm

you were getting ready to settle down when you heard wooyoung’s voice cut through the silence, yelling about something that mingi had done

you wince and the gentle expression falls from joongs face, morphing into “Leader Mode” as he quickly but quietly left the room to scold Wooyoung, but not before placing a gentle peck on your temple before disappearing 

He returns with a remorseful looking woo who softly apologizes from the door, you silently wave off his apology and in return shoot him a finger heart with as much playful energy as you can muster

he returns the gesture as Joong turns back from talking to Seonghwa, who also apparently had followed him back.

you shoot hongjoong the best questioning look you can and he whispers back that Hwa will be making sure the rest of the boys keep the dorm quiet until you feel better

he tucks you into bed, placing ice packs on your forehead and neck respectively 

he pulls up a chair next to his bed and softly strokes your hair and whispers soothing words to you until you are finally able to fall asleep

ok tbh this is my first time ever writing so like... hopefully it wasn’t Total Shit, im not Super happy w it but we all have to start somewhere so whatever. also! hopefully this is a somewhat accurate description of a migraine! I’ve only had about four in my life and they were all essentially the same as what the reader has. So I have limited experience and research to go off of but hopefully it was sufficient enough. Anyways pls let me know what you thought, or if you have a request (no promises tho lmao) or ideas. I’m pretty much open to anything.

thank you for reading!!

[capitalismwasamistake]

BESTIE!!!!!

I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!

TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!!! TELL ME ALL YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT EVERYTHING!!!!!

Add this movie The Merciless (2017) to it too 😍😍😍 you'd love it!!

BESTIE!!! I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING LOVE YOU TOO!!! <3

And I do have thoughts about Beyond Evil!

Character portrail was great.

I would die for Lee Dong-sik - the most tortured, traumatised, misunderstood man I've ever seen, and yet! He's still so kind and motivated, he isn't a washed out alcoholic or a cynical old dude who has lost faith in everything. He is still actively working on his sister's case while not letting himself get lost in it - he maintains his relationships and takes care of himself and his community. Is there a man out there with a larger heart than him? No. Absolute mvp. Dream man. Would be best friends with him.

Han Ju-won is baby and I want to protect him. Like, I get it, he's not a child, he can look after himself, but damn, he needs a break. And a couple of friends to melt his heart. Just, watching this poor man be absolutely convinced that everyone is chasing his connections and influence instead of wanting to form a genuine bond with him is sad, but so understandable. Like, that was his life until Manyang (and arguably Dong-sik himself). I'd fistbump him (because he'd hate it) and tell him to drink some strawberry juice and chill out.

And their interractions throughout the entire show! Arrogant Han Ju-won constantly jumping to conclusions with extremely creepy at first glance Lee Dong-sik leading him along while everyone is looking at him with wary eyes. They're playing cat and mouse and you, the viewer, have no idea who is the cat and who is the mouse. And then it morphs and you start to realise that Lee Dong-sik is perhaps not so guilty and that his good behaviour, which looks hella suspicious at the start, is actually perfectly genuine and a reflection of inner pain (I also love how as the show progresses you're encouraged to look into his eyes more instead of at his insane smile so you notice the sadness within). And that arrogant son-of-head-cop boy does not think himself above everything and everyone and like he owns the entire universe and is entitled to new mugs and stuff and is actually willing to accept consequences. And uphold a strick moral code and apply it to himself. Champ, in my opinion. And then they start working together and all the subtle ways they show they actually care about the other's wellbeing really get to me.

I cried when Dong-sik called Ju-won his partner when they were chasing after Sang-bae. And all of the "I promise, I'll wait for you, don't worry". I love them, your honour.

I won't even get into the rain scene or the Dong-sik arrest scene because I will break.

And the mystery itself! I did not see that comming several times, I was staring at my screen like "NO WAY!"

The theme about guilt made me sympathise with the characters so much more. Like, Han Ju-won doesn't deserve to pay for the crimes of his father, but doing so makes him appear so much more human, AND it has the added bonus of offering Lee Dong-sik some closure while giving them a chance to grow closer and heal together. It's beautiful and I'm crying over it.

Oh Ji-hwa is amazing and I stan her.

Like I said, I haven't finished the Devil Judge yet, but I love how they keep trying so hard to make me like the murderer, because as a Hannibal fan I already stan the murderer the second I see him. Oh, this judge threw a guy off a roof? And he's doing extremely morally questionable stuff for no reason at all other than to win? How exciting, you go traumatised rich man, you're doing amazing!

Also, this is still only hinted at, but I'm getting some strong "the tough cold heartless judge is soft for his warm sunshiny judge sidekick" vibes and I love it.

I also love Kang Yo-han's hair. It's like the second he puts on a suit his hair is magically perfectly styled but the moment he's in pajamas or a robe it's a lifeless mess.

So yeah, @igonecrazy, this is all thanks to you. Huge thanks for pushing me into this new adventure! Worry not, I have The Merciless on my list, I will watch all of the korean murder dramas ;)

Also, you still have amazing tags. I love how we only call Hannibal Lecter "mommy" when he deserves it and not when we're mad at him.