#i am fully assuming it was done on both sides

[halexander420]

Ok cmere. Who did voter fraud. 2.5k in that poll is not a reasonable amount of votes.

[justaaveragereader]

I Hate You

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Dom!Hwa, Toxic Hwa, Sadistic Hwa he’s just a huge red flag tbh , Mafia!Hwa, Hate Sex, Sub!Reader, Spit, Name Calling, Passing Liquid From One Mouth To Another, Degradation, Oral (Giving), Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Choking, Angsty, Manhandling, If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know👏🏼!

A/N: Hear me out…some about Hwa with a damn grill gone do it for me EVERY TIME! Him and that dang fur coat is giving mafia, if you disagree…you are blind. I was listening to Amy Winehouse ‘You Know I’m No Good.” and instantly thought of this for Hwa! Then I saw the unit pic him and Hongjoong took where Hwa is wearing black and white with that sleazy, smoldering look on his face and internally screameddddd! I swear ever since bouncy Hwa plagues my mind faithfully😔, I’m down bad fr. Also this isn’t fully proof read so if there is some mistakes…💀 my bad yall.

✍️Masterlist✍️

“Fuck you Park Seonghwa.” You spit through gritted teeth, both cheeks squished between one of his lackey henchmen.

“Give me the word boss, and I’ll end her pretty ass right here.”

Letting out a deep chuckle, man spreading even further in his chair, long brown fur coat draping against his seated figure. Letting out a click of his tongue. He snaps his fingers, the henchmen immediately let go of you. Your figure smacks the floor with a loud thud.

“You do have quite the mouth on you.” He says through laughter. Mocking you, like you are the scum of the earth. His eyes cut through you like sharpened glass. Your eyes shoot up briefly taking in his figure. Shirt unbuttoned right below his pecks, showing quite a bit of skin. Adjusting himself, you realize he’s bricked up against his jeans, the fabric dancing with different material down both pant legs. Was this fucker really getting off seeing you in misery?!

“I like them mouthy, it turns me on.” Getting up from his lax state in the chair, he makes his way over to you. You clench your face in disgust as he walks closer to you, shoes echoing with each step. You’ve seen this man in the daylight, and would never assume he was a monster by night.

His henchmen stand still almost like toy soldiers. Not daring to move an inch. This single man held so much power in just his aura it felt almost suffocating. Intoxicating…he’s got the type of power you could get drunk off of. Flicking his head to the side the group of men quickly file out. Leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the back of the warehouse.

“You wanted to see me.” He pauses his sentence, lifting his hands up, turning in a slow circle so you can soak in his full presence.

“Bask it in princess, because here I am, in the flesh.” He says almost too cocky for your liking. Smacking your lips at his over the top response. You roll your eyes, finding anything but him to look at, refusing to stroke his god-like ego.

“Now the real question is, I heard you were looking for big ol’ bad me.” He says through a pout, inching his way closer and closer to you. He moved swiftly, and was just as smooth as a snake.

Squatting down to your level, he places his hand on your jaw making you look at him. Your eyes burn holes into his. Lips drawn up tightly, almost snarling at him like you are kind of wild animal. Your veins can’t help but be filled with hate for this man. You hate that you seek him out, you hate how perfect he is in your eyes, you hate how he can do no wrong, you hate how hard you fell for him. You aren’t supposed to fall for a man like Park Seonghwa, no one was supposed to fall for a man like Park Seonghwa.

“Why are you looking for me? Aren’t you done with me?” He says nonchalantly. You feel like he’s spitting on you, like he’s showing you nothing but disrespect, like you mean nothing to him.

“Shut the fuck up.” You grit out, trying your best to move your face out of his grip, but he’s stronger than you. Making your head swoon with his strength, he was a no good for nothing man, but you were drawn to him. A true damsel in distress.

“Ooo I like when you talk nasty to me, it gets me hard. Real hard…” he says practically breathless, clearly he was turned on. He had been bricked since he saw his men toss carry your fighting body in the warehouse.

“I fucking hate you.” You spit at him. Words laced with venom. Laughing in your face, this was your routine with him. You say you hated him, how you weren’t looking for him, which lead to fucking, and him kicking you out. You’ve both danced with routine before.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop asking about me, stop looking for me.” He says kindly, but you know there is another layer to his soft spoken words. He's so unbothered at your hate for him, so sick and twisted in the mind that it fuels his body. Your eyes just cut to him, before rolling, darting away from him again. You didn’t want to admit out loud, nor give him the satisfaction of admitting that you were looking for him.

“Don’t look away from me y/n.” He states firmly. Gripping your face tighter, eyes flickering with games beneath them. Your eyes shoot back to him, almost annoyed at him.

“You hate me so much right? Then quit asking for me, quit looking for me.” He spits, making you wince after each word he speaks to you. Your eyes water slightly, moving your eyes to look to the side you were not going to give him any satisfaction.

“I hate you more than you can imagine Park Seonghwa.” Your whisper out loud, he can hear the broken record playing in your voice. The routine you constantly bestow on him.

“You know who I am, and you know just exactly what I do. So don’t shed any tears for me.” Shoving your face slightly back, he stands up, moving to sit back back on his chair. You watch as his fur coat sways from side to side as he plants himself on his chair. That crooked smile of his, gracing his face. You were disposable to him.

Your eyes watch his every move, popping open a bottle of liquor he takes a swig, shooting it down his throat like it was water. Smacking his lips obnoxiously, as he keeps eye contact with you. It was a battle in dominance that you knew you would lose. Leaning back in his chair, with the bottle resting between his legs. Your eyes slowly trace his body, soaking in every thing about this twisted man. Your body screamed for this man, your heart cried for him. You feel a flush of heat in between your legs at his cocky demeanor. With each sip of liquor he takes, he makes sure to keep eye contact with you while he shoots the tart liquid down. You catch a sly smile of his before he tips the bottle to slowly drip liquid down his chest.

With his head slightly cocked back he watched you through hooded eyes. His Matz neck tattoo sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Go on now princess, lick it up.”

You watched as the liquor ran down his body, drenching his neck and abdomen. Your eyes flicked down to his stomach, slowly traveling up his neck, meeting his eyes. Park Seonghwa was no good, you knew he was no good, hell, even he knew he was no good but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t stop the feeling of need growing in your core. With a smack of your lips you get on your hands, as you were still on the floor, slowly making your ways towards him, degrading yourself even further for him. Hands coming up to rest against his clothed thighs. Hard on staring you right in the face, thick at the base, with a lean to one side. Your fingers brush over it, trailing the thick vein that pulsates. His grin takes over his whole face, checkmate.

While he’s slack against the chair, man spreading so you fit in between his legs, he looks down at you. Grill twinkling in the poor fluorescent lights, he looks like trouble. His eyes say more than his own words do.

“Go on now sugar, be a good girl and put that tongue to use.” He says through a small chuckle, chest vibrating with each laugh.

“I know that pretty mouth is good for more than saying how much you hate me.”

You lick your lips slightly, before inching your body closer to his, your heated tongue comes into contact with his abdomen. Licking the liquor that remained there. The flavors makes your mouth water, while liquor was never your vice. Park Seonghwa was. He grips the handles of his chair, the feeling of your warm, soft tongue on his skin was like a reward. You were practically waving the white flag in his face. He won, he always wins.

Your tongue dips between each individual ab muscle, making sure not to leave any inch of skin uncovered. He tasted like heaven, yet you know this was far from it. As you inched further down his body you come right below his belly button. His happy trail right beneath your tongue, eliciting a loud groan out of him. He comes to cup the back of your neck, encouraging you to go lower. The fur from his coat tickles the sides of your arms, fingers on the button of his jeans, giving him a once over again you pop the button. Shimmying his pants down to his thighs his hard cock springs out, of course he was going commando. You stare up at him in disgust, jealousy lies beneath your skin.

His hand grips the back of your neck firmly, almost like he’s a mother cat, snatching his kitten up. He stares at you from beneath his nose. Taunting you, getting off at your misery. His member jumps slightly at seeing you in such a distressed state.

“I knew you were coming today ma. I knew you were going to warm my cock, so I thought why not forgo the boxers.”

You swallow loudly, gulping down the jealousy you were harboring. You should feel dirty, disgusted at the fact he knew you’d warm his leaking cock. Yet you can’t help but feel a swell of pride in your chest. He was waiting on you.

“You must’ve been pretty excited to see me.” You say, not looking him in his eyes but your voice gives you away. The small cracks and whimpers that leave your mouth are enough to know he’s got you in his trap per usual.

His black hair framed his face perfectly, the poor lighting made him look like he descended from heaven. Gripping his hard cock, you move the pre cum around the tip of it. Letting the back of your neck go, he leans back, watching the scene in front of him unfold. The feeling of your soft padded thumb on the tip of his head made him let out a groan. Black hair falling in front of his face.

Gathering all the spit in your mouth you slowly let it drop on his cock, the cool contrast to his hot member has him hissing, like the true snake he is. You lower your body, your soft lips engulf the tip. Giving it a few sucks, tossing his head back he grips the arms on his chair so tightly you watch his knuckles turn white. You look up at him through your lashes, it’s like he has sensors any time your eyes are on him. Biting his lip he says through a breathy chuckle..

“It’s been a while ma, take it easy on poor me.”

Your pussy flutters at the thought of him not giving himself to anyone but you, women threw themselves at Seonghwa, hell, even men threw themselves at Seonghwa. Times like this are when your head gets filled with disappointment but your heart gets filled with joy. Popping off his cock you lick a stripe up his leaking member, tasting the saltiness of him. Your mind clouds with thoughts…were you the last person he was with? Did he truly wait for you? The thoughts are too loud in your head, and Seonghwa notices. Brushing a thumb over your cheek, it breaks the spell on you. Crashing you down to reality.

“I’m not doing this.” You whisper out, brushing your hands off on his fur coat. You stand up, dusting your knees off. Looking him straight in the eye.

“I’m not dealing with your mind games Seonghwa!”

Everytime you raise your voice a higher octave his cock bobs up and down. The spit still pooling on his waiting cock, wrapping his own hand around it, he slowly strokes himself up and down watching your frantic figure yell at him.

“Mind games? What mind games?”

“Fuck you Seonghwa! You know exactly what I’m talking about! You fuck with my mind! You tell me to stay away from you but then you fill my head saying shit like ‘oh it’s been a while’, you know exactly what you do!” Yelling so loudly it bounces off the warehouse walls, echoing down the room. Not caring if his tin soldiers hear. Letting out a quiet laugh he looks up at you through hooded eyes, eyes so pitch black they swallow up his pupil.

“You know what I am, you know exactly who I am.” He says while continuing to stroke his cock, getting hard at the thought of you yelling at him, causing such a big fuss for lil ol’ him.

“You are such a piece of shit you know that?”

Biting his lip he leans forward, almost taunting you. Stomach muscles contracted with how fast he was close to reaching his peak.

“You are all bark and no bite, you hate me so much. Always screaming how you hate me but you always come crawling back. You hate me or you hate the thought of being without me?” He says matter of factly, hitting the nail right on the head. Steam is practically radiating off your body. Letting out a huff you march over to him, snatching the liquor bottle from his side, taking a long drink from it, before hovering over him. Sticking out his tongue, you let the liquor splash into his mouth, and down his throat. Shoving his upper body back, you slap his hands away. Shoving your pants down to your ankles before stepping out of them. Ripping the shirt over your head. Placing each of your thighs on the outer side of his legs, hovering over his waiting member.

“You taste so good.” He says through a whisper, licking his lips, drinking down any leftover liquid you splashed in his mouth. Grabbing the empty liquor bottle he takes another swig, groaning as you slowly lower your sopping wet pussy onto his waiting cock. He fills you wall to wall. Deliciously just like the last time. Gripping you by the back of your neck, he brings you close to his face, the tips of your noses brush against each other.

“You know I’m trouble, you know I’m no good, but here you are on my cock. Admit it baby..” he says, slapping your ass cheek real hard with his free hand. Bringing your naked chest to his own, the bottom half of his shirt brushes your lower stomach, making your body liter with goosebumps. He was practically fully clothed while you were stripped down for him.

“You hate me so much because I’m all you want.”

Pulling you back by the neck so there is distance between the both of you. His hand grips your ass, beginning to move you slowly up and down his cock. The fill of him has your mind on cloud nine. You want to wipe that smirk off his face but you know he’s right. Your heart tugs when he’s near.

“I’m all you need, you want me to survive. Think I’m going to run away with you? Hang this life up for you?” He says through grit teeth, ending his sentence with a slight laugh, mocking you. Not even sparing to sell you a dream because you’ve already sold yourself one. You should’ve known by now you can’t change a man, and he was not just any man. He was Park Seonghwa. You start working your hips to meet his thrusts, picking up speed as your walls get custom to his thick size in your cunt.

Squelching noises fill the warehouse, you both are breathing each other in. His eyes glimmer every time you slam your hips down on him. Tossing his head against the back of the chair, he grabs both of your ass cheeks slamming you down even harder into his length, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each slam. Tossing your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself while you bounce around like a doll for him. Letting one of your ass cheeks go, he grabs the bottle of liquor.

Pouring it on your naked chest, he sticks his warm tongue against your heated skin, trying to slurp up the liquor that’s coated on your flesh. His cool lips, mixed with his warm tongue, has you mewling. Gripping the sides to his chair, you bounce faster up and down on his cock. Leaning your head back, you are in heaven right now. Licking a stripe up your neck, he laughs into your neck. You can feel him pulsate in your soft walls. The coolness of his grill has your pussy clenching down hard on him. He’s so deep in you that you can practically taste him in your mouth. The pleasure bringing you a whole new feeling has your eyes filled with tears of pleasure.

“Talked all that shit earlier, look at you now, bouncing on my cock like you have no fucking sense.”

You let out a pathetic cry, tilting your head back you try to take in as much air as you can. Every stroke up it feels like he’s knocking your lungs loose, your body burns with the constant need of this man. Biting your lip you look down at him through your lashes, trying your best to keep your eyes on him, scrunching your face, attempting to toss him a smug glare.

“Go on baby..fu-fuck. Tell me how much you hate me, it makes my dick hard.” He grits out with a chuckle watching you bounce up and down on his cock. Your hips still at the tip of his cock, as he clutches your ass, pistoning into you. The wet sound of his cock hammering away at you, has your eyes rolling, you are on the brink of an orgasm.

“Oh my god.” You moan loudly, nails digging into his clothes shoulders. Diving his face into your chest, he sucks and nips your skin, leaving small marks behind on the plush of your breast. Your mouth falls open, jaw going slack. Taking the opportunity he places his pointer and middle finger in your mouth, tugging down your jaw with his fingers.

“You are a fucking dick head.” You mumble out with your mouth full of his fingers, drool begins to pour landing over your breast that are flying in his face. His eyes briefly roll back, letting out a groan he pulls you closer to his face by your bottom jaw, wiggling his fingers in your mouth.

“Awww I’m a dickhead, yet you are drooling all over this dickhead.” He says through a chuckle, one harsh particular thrust has you practically biting down on his fingers. Letting out a low breathy moan, he removes his fingers from your mouth crashing his lips against yours, his grill clinking against your teeth. His hands travel to your ass again bouncing you faster. Your toes curl on the sides of his thighs, his grip on you is bruising, the wet skin slapping against his upper thighs. Tears fill your eyes once more at your orgasm building up

“I told you I was trouble, you know that I’m no good but look at you, bouncing on my cock like a bitch in heat.” He moans against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip, running his tongue along it, the taste of him on your mouth was sending you over. Tears overflowing from the pressure build up.

“Go on, tell me how much you hate me.” He grits wrapping a hand on the back of your neck in a possessive manner.

“Because you do, right? Hate me so much you wanna cry on this cock every night.” Slapping your ass harshly, feeling his heated hand print stinging on your skin you let out a choked out moan.

“Go on, tell me, I wanna hear you say it again. It turns me on.” He moans out, hips continuing into you, tears stream down your face, landing on his heated skin.

“I-I ha-hate you.” You say breathlessly, gripping his shoulders tighter. Your orgasm is at its tipping point with the way his cock is brushing against your cervix. Slapping your ass hard once more.

“Louder!”

“I ha-hate y-.”

“I can’t hear you!”

“I fucking hate you Park Seonghwa!” You scream at your orgasm tips over, clutching your fists into his shirt, hips immediately stopping, you fall over into Seonghwa chest pressed tightly against his very own while his hips continue to slam into your sopping cunt, your juices rolling down, soaking his jeans. Tossing his head back, his grip on you is bruising.

“Fuck Seonghwa, please!” You whimper out, your body is overly sensitive after your intense orgasm, and his bruising pace is making you more delirious.

“Fuck! Yes, yes yes!” His yells echoing in the entire warehouse without a second thought. With one final slam into your cunt he’s cumming deep in you, hips jerking up every couple of seconds to make sure you take every drop of him. His hands jiggle the meat off your flesh, before lightly rubbing where his bruising grip was.

Your heavy breathes are all that fill the room, pushing off his chest slightly, you groan at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you and around his member.

“You are so fucking stupid. I swear you are.”

He looks at you with one eye open, while the other remains shut from his post orgasmic bliss. With a deep chuckle, he pushes his black hair out of his face. Grabbing your chin between his fingers, bringing you close to his face. You stare him directly in the eyes, before the shimmer from his grill catches your eye.

“If you want me again for round two that’s all you have to say.” He whispers against your lips.

“Oh please, I barely enjoyed myself.” You say shoving him back by the chest, carefully removing yourself from his lap. You can feel his cum start to run down your inner thighs. Cutting your eyes at him you tug on the sleeve of his fur coat. Barely moving an inch he laughs at your frazzled state, pulling up his pants he buttons them again, watching your naked body move around quickly to find your clothes and put them on.

Just as you are buttoning your own pants. You hear the warehouse door slam open, the orange fur from the coat immediately catching your eye. Hongjoong is back…

“Oh..did I interrupt?” Hongjoong says, clearly unamused at Seonghwas actions.

“Hongjoong! You’re back early!” Seonghwa says, voice full of cheer.

Buttoning your pants all the way up, turning around all they see is the back of your shirt and pants as you walk away, feet practically stomping with each step.

“Fuck you Park Seonghwa!” You scream out, echoing so Hongjoong can hear.

“Seonghwa..” Hongjoong says quietly scolding him.

“Oh don’t you worry Hongjoong, she’ll be back!” He yells loudly, making sure that you hear him. Turning around you flip him off before continuing to stomp out of the warehouse.

“She always comes back..” he whispers quietly to himself as he watches your fleeing figure.

DO NOT REPOST.

GIF made by @justaaveragereader

[stellar-skyy]

hello dear <3 i was thinking an iced hibiscus tea for arlecchino, perhaps? feel free to decide the specifics and details on this one hehe

“i have an order ready for arlecchino! an iced hibiscus tea, for arlecchino!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: Arlecchino's child is struggling, but she is there to reassure them. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. platonic arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & hurt/comfort. 1.5k words. iii. A/N: the way i ran to get this order done- THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE THIS ILY /p

It was a cold day in the House of the Hearth when Arlecchino called upon one of her children for nothing more than a simple chat.

One of the unspoken rules of the House was that the most leisurely of discussions were only a preface to something deeper; layers of ulterior motives hidden underneath an innocent invite for tea. Some children had never glimpsed the privilege of being summoned to her office, while others found themselves carving a dent into her seat cushions with the number of times they sat in them. But one thing remained unchanging with every visit: their Father would send for them with a purpose, and they would not leave until it was fulfilled.

When [Name] received word that they were to visit Arlecchino’s office at 7:00pm sharp, their first instinct was dread; for the dozens of possible reasons for them being the one to be called upon. Musing upon the ‘why’s shifted their mood from the dull thrum of anxiety to sweeping waves of confusion. As far as they were concerned, they had no due cause for such a meeting with the Director herself; no failed missions to be reprimanded over, no shady plots of subterfuge to be exposed. They weren’t any rowdier or more troublesome than any other of the children, so the list of matters that would merit a visit was short.

Still, they knew better than to avoid the call. 7:00pm, they stood outside the office, hand poised over the door. They closed their eyes, knocking on it sharply and wincing at the echo that reverberated off the walls.

Three short raps. A smooth, calm voice, from inside the room: “Come in.”

The doorhandle creaked loudly as it turned. The door was old, and rather heavy, so it took a gentle shove to push it fully open to reveal the neat, cozy office inside.

“Ah, [Name], you’ve arrived.” Arlecchino greeted them as they entered. She was seated behind her desk as she usually was, with a full tea-set in front of her. As they slowly approached, she motioned towards the plush chairs opposite her. “Please, take a seat. I have been waiting for you.”

They quickly settled into the closest chair, hands folded in their lap. The room was quiet and cold; enough to send an uncomfortable prickle down their spine. Arlecchino paid no mind to their uneasiness; her hands were busy deftly arranging the teacups on the tray. Once she was satisfied with their placement, she then moved to pick up the teapot.

“I have some new tea from Liyue,” she hummed, gently tipping the teapot to let the dark red drink fill one cup, then two. Steam rose from each, cutting through the chill of her office. “Hibiscus. It’s quite sour, but I have added a spoonful of honey and sugar to the brew to sweeten it.”

She held one of the teacups out, and they clasped both hands around it with a murmured thanks. As they moved to take it from her, the side of their palm brushed against her fingers—icy cold, enough to make them shiver with a single touch.

“Your night has been well, I am assuming?” Arlecchino asked, taking a sip from her cup.

“Yes,” they murmur, bringing the tea to their lips. It was hot, but just enough not to burn their tongue. The honey she had added did little to mask the sour taste of the hibiscus, but it created a lightly sweet aftertaste that was pleasant enough to warrant a second sip.

“And your days, how have they been?”

They frowned, scanning her expression for any hint of what she wanted. She was clearly speaking to them in search of something, even if she didn’t say it aloud. A mission report, perhaps? They had already submitted the paper copy to her desk, but if she had missed it, or it had gotten lost with the rest of the paperwork handed in that day, she could be waiting for them to recount the mission directly.

“I returned from the mission you sent me on,” they blurted out. “I… it was a success, mostly. No casualties. Minimal injuries. And I also—”

“No need for a summary, I’ve read your report.” Arlecchino cut them off smoothly. “I want to know how you are, not how your mission went.”

They almost choked on their tea. Arlecchino raised an eyebrow at their sudden lack of composure, and they hurriedly covered it up with a half-hearted cough. “S-Sorry… you want to know how I have been… feeling?”

“That is correct.”

The air was thick with silence and the bitter smell of hibiscus, until they blurted out a quick “Fine! I’ve been fine, thank you.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Interesting. I have been hearing curious things,” Arlecchino said casually. “Some of your siblings seem to have noticed a change in your behaviour. You aren’t sleeping as well, your mood has been significantly worse, you haven’t been joining during social activities. There is clearly something wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” they said weakly. Their feeble attempt at normalcy was nowhere near convincing enough to fool her, and they knew it. They were a passable liar in the best of circumstances, but she was the one person who would always be able to see right through them.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

They couldn’t look at her. One look into those sharp eyes, one wrong word and they would crumble right there in her office. They had to keep it together for as long as it took to convince Arlecchino they were alright and be dismissed from her office. They only needed to hold back the burning behind their eyes until they were far away from Arlecchino and her pressing words and bitter tea, and could quietly fall apart.

She was waiting for an answer, but they could hardly breathe through the lump in their throat, let alone formulate a response. If she stopped now, saw them for what they were—a lost cause—and gave up, it would be fine. But instead:

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, and something inside them snapped.

Tears burst from their eyes, spilling over their cheeks and down their face. They gasped, choking back a cry, holding a fist to their mouth to stop the hiccupping and wheezing breaths.

“I’m sorry,” they sniffled, rather pathetically. They kept their head ducked down low, unable to bring themself to look up into her undeniable face of disapproval. If they were any stronger, they could grit their teeth and make up a spiel about how they would do better next time, but instead they had to cry.

Now, not only were they going to be reprimanded for letting their emotions affect their work, they would be scolded for crying as well.

“Now, there is no need for crying.” Arlecchino stood, scraping her chair against the floor. They flinched away from the jarring sound, shrinking inwards with their tear-streaked face hidden in their hands. As much as they tried to stop them, the tears kept flowing into their palms. The walls were shifting closer with each second, and the thick scent of the tea filled their lungs until it choked them with that cloyingly bittersweet scent—

They jumped, as something cold touched their fingers. Their hands were carefully pried away from their face, revealing Arlecchino kneeling in front of them, with an unusually concerned expression on her face.

“I’m not upset with you, dear.” She said gently. “If that is why you are apologising.”

“You’re not?” they asked slowly. It had to have been a lie, but with how softly she said it, a part of them couldn’t help but wish it was true.

“Of course I’m not. But do you know why I’m not upset with you?” she asked. Hesitantly, they shook their head. “I’m not upset in the slightest, because I know whatever is clouding you is something that you will work through. You will emerge the victor of this battle, no matter what it is.”

They made a strangled sound, and felt a new wave of tears form. Arlecchino sighed, pulling them to their feet and against her chest.

“You are strong,” she said softly, carding her fingers through their hair. “You are capable. You are able to overcome whatever hardships you are facing, no matter how much they wear on you.”

She kissed their temple, her cool lips feeling almost warm pressed to their skin. While she lingered there, she whispered to them, softer than a mother’s touch. “You are strong enough to face this on your own, but even if you aren’t you will always have me here behind you.”

Their hands stretched out to grab the back of her jacket, shuddering out a breath. If Arlecchino minded their teary face being pressed against the front of her clothing, she didn’t comment on it; she only murmured more reassurances as she held them close.

“Just breathe, dear.” She whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[dadsbongos]

cycle & jerk

5k words / warnings - pinv sex (unprotected, creampies), breeding kink, light choking, hair pulling, chilchuck's a mean dirty old man, heat cycle, i haven't written in awhile so like. idk don't execute me if this isn't a slay

summary - you are a rat-half foot-hybrid mix, king of the junjile but still social and fierce, and you go into heat and chilchuck can smell it (ew) and he's the only one that can help

~~~

Huffy panting causes Chilchuck to stir in his bedroll. A whine muffled into thin fluff, then the gentle drag of scratchy blankets catching on clothes as a lump grows more apparent beside him. Shyly, a hand wanders from clutching his arm to petting down his chest -- pausing at his belt and scrunching his shirt with a hearty groan. He watches quietly, heart thumping into his chest because he’s just not sure how to breach this.

Stupidly he’d assumed he still had more time. Looking back, he’s genuinely unsure as to why he ever thought that. The signs were there that tonight was his culling, weren’t they? He should’ve been more prepared.

four days prior.

Despite only servicing a single party in your entire adventuring career (and only wanting the one), you have a very strict set of dates in which you’re unavailable for work. Yet this month, regardless of his numerous efforts, your party leader has kept you in the dungeon past expiration.

“I told you I needed out of here before today, didn’t I?”

“You did…”

“And where am I?”

“Still here…”

To his credit, Laios appears earnestly ashamed -- hands folded in his lap and head bent to avoid looking you in the eye. He murmurs soft apologies, even as your attention is called across the room by Marcille.

“Take it easy,” she coos, which only infuriates you further, “What’s so important that you have to be so mad, anyway?”

“It’s basic decency,” you throw an arm out at your side, gesturing to your fellow half-foot on the right, “Chilchuck, back me up!”

“She’s right,” Chilchuck shrugs, “Although it sounds unfair to put all the blame on Laios.”

“I can’t leave before we’re done here,” you grumble, swiveling to face him fully (Laios sighs in gratitude that your wrath has been directed elsewhere), “I don’t get paid upfront, you know?”

“Huh, wonder if there was some way you could’ve fixed that.”

“I only work with Laios, why would I need to join a union?”

“Scab,” he coughs, far more teasing than of genuine frustration.

“Maybe we could help get you back to the surface if you told us what the problem was!” Marcille rolls around onto her hands, eyes wide in curiosity, “C’mon, share! Light a fire under us!”

“It’s embarrassing,” you scooch closer to Chilchuck before sagging against the wall, joining him on the ground. You fail to notice when he flinches at your proximity, “My business is my own.”

“Best leave it alone,” Senshi agrees, “We’ll just have to stay outta your way ‘til we’re done here.”

“Well, don’t avoid me,” you continue to scoff, watching as Izutsumi rustles along Chilchuck’s lap just to bat at your rounded ears with both paws, “Izutsumi, don’t touch those.”

She hisses quietly, only diverting her attention so far as your tail sandwiched between yours and Chilchuck’s thighs. You allow her to malleate the flesh, only because she makes no off-hand comments about how strangely cool the skin is (just the memory makes you glare over at Laios again, who cowardly shrinks back).

“You’re irritable today,” Chilchuck glances at you warily, tone equally cautious.

“And?”

His back slides down the wall until he’s nestled fully into his bedroll and turned away from you onto his side, “Nothing.”

Izutsumi hums quietly, head plopping into your lap, you two exchange confused glances before collectively deciding to let his sudden retirement go.

Since that night, Chilchuck has been avoiding you. You’re certain.

Initially, you’d attempted to rationalize it as a sense of hysteria, that you were simply hyper aware of his presence after the incident shared with Izutsumi. Until more incidents began compiling atop each other, and you were unable to pass them as individual misunderstandings.

Such as that next morning.

“Oh, you getting water?” Chilchuck rose from his slump against the far wall, gaze honed on Laios.

Your leader nods before thumbing towards you, “Yep. Found a small fountain across the hall. Wanna come?”

Chilchuck looks at you, blinking stupidly, before shaking his head, “I’ll probably wait until we set camp again.”

Then there was lunchtime.

“You’re so far away…” Marcille whines, stretching her arm out as if to manhandle Chilchuck back towards the rest of your party.

“There’s no room over there.”

Everyone stares at him for that, Izutsumi curling into your side protectively while Laios points down at the gaping space between you and Senshi with his plate. He grins, full of heart and goodwill, “There’s room right there, Chil’.”

“Oh,” Chilchuck’s shoulders slack, body unenthusiastically scooting across the floor until he’s awkwardly inserted beside you. Noticeably closer to Senshi than you, chuckling distantly and gazing solely into his food, “Duh. Didn’t notice that.”

Izutsumi smacks her lips in a rush to swallow her bite before contradicting, “You were staring at that spot for five minutes.”

“Thought you were gonna take it,” he recovers quickly, then promptly shutting his mouth the rest of lunch.

And the next day.

Anytime you spoke, he’d find an exit from the conversation. He’d conveniently need to speak with Laios, or Marcille, or Izutsumi, or Senshi whenever you approached. Not to mention how glaringly obvious the physical space between you was, whereas he usually traveled towards the middle of the pack with you he’s now suddenly braving the front alongside Laios.

Each effort on your part to shut down tension was swiftly dodged, only managing to thicken the strain between you.

Until that night:

“I’m heading for the bathroom,” Chilchuck rises from his bedroll with a yawn.

“Want me to go with?” Laios offers.

“No,” but his kindness is wasted on Chilchuck, who grimaces at the thought of pissing with a silently listening Laios.

Laios frowns over at you, “But it’s dark out there, I would’ve kept him safe.”

“He’ll live,” you retort, frustration with the lockpick boiling over into an eye roll.

You feel a lithe finger dig into your thigh, finding Marcille turned onto her tummy in her blanket, “You could go confront him now. He’ll have no excuses with nobody else around.”

Figures someone as invasive as Marcille is so invested in yours and Chilchuck’s recent friction.

“Yeah, I’ll just go up behind him while he’s peeing. Great idea.”

“Scare him into submission,” Izutsumi adds, though betraying you by selfishly occupying Chilchuck’s mat across the room. She snuggles into the warmth he’s left behind, yawning loudly -- looking about three seconds from drifting into slumber.

“There’s ale stocks along the way,” Senshi now joins the conversation, and is arguably the most helpful, “Some of ‘em bound to be full. He won’t turn down a drink.”

“Huh,” you tease the idea further. Even if by some uncharacteristic possession, Chilchuck does refuse the offer of alcohol, you can always beat him with the bottle. Knock him out to tie down and force out answers once he’s awake, “That could work…”

You replay that very thought process in your head as you await for Chilchuck to wander back down the hall. You passed as far as the corridor after the ale shelves before realizing how strange lingering outside the bathroom is, then deciding to sit with your back to the wall. Not long now, Chilchuck will be right in front of you.

He won’t jump back in shock, either. He’s heard you walking, you know he did because you heard him pause, sigh, and continue at a much, much slower pace. You’d almost be swooning over how he could discern it was you by your walk, if only there wasn’t such a vexing reason for you to be out here.

At least you have the advantage, your superior rodent vision can make him out in the pitch dark, meanwhile he’s relying on estimation as to where you are. If you wanted, you could probably just throw the ale at his head and get the knocking-him-unconscious bit over with.

“Okay,” he sighs again, louder, arms folded across his chest, “What?”

“Me what? How about you what?”

Chilchuck leans his head away from you, as if he can’t so much as stand to look at you, “What’re you talking about?”

“Just sit,” when he makes no such move, you lift one bottle in your hand, swirling the dark liquid inside, “I brought a bribe just to be nice, don’t let it go to waste.”

“Where’d you get that?” his curiosity blocks out his better instinct, sitting at your side to snatch up the bottle. You can see the instant he regrets it -- his nose wrinkles up and he swallows harshly, “Okay, what do you want?”

You ‘hpmh’ at his testy tone, letting him stew in the unpleasant silence before he’s uncorking the bottle and taking his first gulp. His nonchalance is more irritating than his avoidance; now he wants to insist you’re the weird one when he was dodging you as some toxic, erratic creature. Rage spurs you to your feet, swinging around to stand directly in front of him.

“You’re avoiding me, I know you are!” in retrospect, you will be glad you’re so far from the party so you two can yell without disturbing them.

“I am not!”

“Stop being defensive, just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!”

“I can’t,” Chilchuck grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes, face blooming red. That tangy aroma usually hidden until it was right under his nose, flooding his mouth. It was now overpowering your usual scent, and he assumes the only reason you’re so oblivious is because your own advanced smelling has grown blind to it, “It’s nothing you can fix. I’m just cursed with heightened senses.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?!” you stumble back, arms curling around your stomach, “No way! You can…”

.

.

.

Oh, God.

“Yep.”

Oh, God, no.

“Gross!”

Chilchuck shrugs, tilting the ale against his lips and murmuring into tinted glass, “Usually it's only the bloody part we can pick up on, but uh,” he sips the bitter liquid, clearly hesitant to finish his thought until your curious hum encourages him, “I guess beastkin are more… potent…”

“Ew!”

“I didn’t want to finish saying it!”

“But you did,” you gag, “You’re a pervert, phrasing it all nasty like that.”

“What? Would you rather me say it how Laios would?”

“Don’t even joke about that,” you go rigid suddenly, heart seizing at the mention of Laios, “He can’t find out about this.”

“Agreed, it’d be disgusting to hear him ask all those personal questions.”

“So,” you emphasize, clasping your hands nervously, “I need to get it taken care of before I become a problem.”

Chilchuck freezes. Eyes drifting slowly from his bottle to your pinched face, “No.”

“What?”

“No. Ask Senshi or Marcille -- hell! Knock out two problems in one swoop and have Laios help! He’ll leave you alone for the rest of your life if he can get all his questions out now.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” you totally were, and you should’ve known better due to his aversion to interpersonal party-relationships, “Just, I dunno, keep me away from the others.”

“Why me?” he groans.

“You’re the only one who knows…”

“What about Izutsumi? Can’t she be your guard?”

“No! I wanna preserve my positive image in her mind as long as I can.”

Chilchuck scowls, polishing off the bottle with a loud gulp and rolling the neck between his hands, “Guess this is why we never saw you around this time.”

“Uh-huh…”

“And you’re gonna be miserable down here until it's over.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And it’ll only be worse once you actually go into heat.”

“I know, Chilchuck, I’m thirty -- I know how my own heats work.”

You watch confirmed and suspected information sink in for him: Chilchuck was surprised to meet you upon joining the party, as far as he’d heard from whispered tales beastmen looked human most of their lives. Yet you’ve got large, circular ears with a light layer of fur, a pudgy button nose that twitches, and a fleshy tail unfurling to your ankles. You store fat easier than any other half-foot he’s ever met, your legs are stronger and faster than any other half-foot, too.

As terrible as it sounds out of context, your body fascinates him. Not to liken himself to Laios, but well… Ideally this could be his perfect excuse to fully explore, he could have so many questions answered.

Are there humanoid ears hidden behind your hair? Does the peach fuzz on your tail match what courses over your thighs and arms? Has the strength of a rat’s jaw proportionally stretched to your own, like with your legs? Is your whole body warm like a humanoid or cool like your tail? Do you only leave every other month because your rat heat is worse than your human ovulation?

Would having sex with you be like with any other half-foot, or would you be a completely new experience?

Have your strange circumstances forced you into a romantic stasis, making you vulnerable and sensitive to his experienced hands?

If he refuses you now, would you take the bait and ask Laios for help instead?

“Laios seriously doesn’t know about this? At all?”

“I’m sure he knows menstruation exists,” and by proxy ovulation, “but no, I haven’t mentioned my heat.”

“I would’ve thought he’d constantly ask about your… anatomy…”

“Honestly, I think it’s why he approached me to join his party, but I told him off after the first weird question,” you laugh quietly at the memory, “Funny enough, he didn’t seem weird. Most men that approached me were dogs, so meeting him was a relief. Never wanted to work for someone else after our first dive together.”

Chilchuck nods slowly, smoothing the pad of his thumb across the emptied bottle and staring into his dark, murky reflection, “You’ve been in the party longest. You gotta be fond of the guy by now.”

No, he corrects, judging by how you phrased it -- you’ve always been fond of him.

“I guess…” you shrug, “but I’m not fond fond,” you cross your arms defensively, humiliated chills racing up your arms at his unspoken rejection, “I could be, if you’re so adverse. It doesn’t have to be you, Chilchuck. Sorry for asking something so intimate.”

Chilchuck lays the bottle down, shaking his head as he stands, “Don’t ask that dolt. I’ll help.”

“Really?”

More questions infiltrate his mind, unwelcomed as they are interesting.

Do you squeal or huff when you cum? Are you the type to leave scratches? Do you bite (and thus, back to the jaw strength thing)? Would you let him yank your hair? Your tail? Both?

“Thanks, Chilchuck,” you feel the inexplicable need to whisper your appreciation, as if raising your voice could somehow rouse his testy attitude and result in backtracking.

“You should call me Chil.”

“Huh?”

“It’d be awkward to hear my whole name during sex. That’s about as close as people can get, right?”

“Oh!” you’re taken aback. You thought he was against that, though clearly…

His face is flushed (however his decisive speech and sturdy stance negate any intoxication allegations), and you can almost make out the thump of his heartbeat in the filling silence. Or maybe that part is your imagination. Maybe you’re hoping his heart is racing as fast as yours.

“When would be best?” he clears his throat, pulling at the collar of his shirt as though it's choking him, “Now?”

“No!” you cry, mostly out of shock he’s that willing, “No, it wouldn’t do anything now since I’m not… you know. Yet. We’ll have to wait.”

“How long?”

“Not sure. This is why I like to be at home during.”

“I get it,” he runs a hand down the length of his face, hissing quietly in exasperation, “I hate playing these things by ear.”

“‘These things’?” you chuckle as Chilchuck’s face goes red at the implication, he storms past you praying you drop his slip-up, “You do this kind of thing often?”

“Shut up.”

“So, you’re just the guy to go to, then! I should come to you every other month!”

“Shut up!”

…

“Glad to see you two made up,” Marcille’s cheery tone is the first to rake through the room next morning, “Though…”

You’re practically draped over Chilchuck’s back, already feeling your body temperature climbing unnaturally. He’s patting your sweltering cheek sympathetically, allowing you to burrow your face into the bend of his neck. And you’re pressing your chest obnoxiously into his back.

“You’re a bit close,” she teases in a quiet giggle.

Chilchuck rolls his eyes, biting back any replies to avoid unintentionally spilling your secret.

He turns, lips brushing your temple as he whispers to you, “How’re you doing? I could probably lie to Laios and- “

“No,” you whine, embarrassment evident in how you curl your arms tighter around his waist and shuffle closer, “I can’t right now, that’s so… weird.”

“Sure, that would be weird.”

That night, both you and Chilchuck jammed into an off-room from the rest of your party. You two having made the escape after everyone else fell asleep to avoid questions about why you were separating yourselves.

He chooses not to comment on how you strip down to only your panties before falling asleep.

…

Huffy panting causes Chilchuck to stir in his bedroll. A whine muffled into thin fluff, then the gentle drag of scratchy blankets catching on clothes as a lump grows more apparent beside him. Shyly, a hand wanders from clutching his arm to petting down his chest -- pausing at his belt and scrunching his shirt with a hearty groan. He watches quietly, heart thumping into his chest because he’s just not sure how to breach this.

Stupidly he’d assumed he still had more time. Looking back, he’s genuinely unsure as to why he ever thought that. The signs were there that tonight was his culling, weren’t they? He should’ve been more prepared.

While he’s internally debating the ethics of chickening out on his promise to you, you’re suffering. Bad.

Sweat clings along the back of your neck and all down your molten face. Worse than that heat, is the one between your thighs. You’ve been duly rubbing at yourself through your panties for the better half of eternity, earnestly hoping to deal with this yourself rather than following through with using Chilchuck. That in itself is proof you’re barely in your right mind, masturbating has never worked before -- obviously it won’t now.

All it succeeds in is making you wetter and messier.

A little physical stimulation, you reason, can’t be bad. So you faintly trail a hand over Chilchuck’s soft stomach, pausing before his crotch and feeling your chest pound at the thought:

Below his navel is his penis.

Then there’s the next thought:

His penis should be inside you.

You moan quietly, eyes clenched shut and cheek smushing into your bedroll. Were you not preoccupied with the broiling in your stomach, you’d probably be feeling the ache in your knees holding up your weight. Your back arched and rear presented for mounting.

Just as you’re delirious enough with desperation to shake Chilchuck awake, he’s turning onto his side and carding stray hairs from your damp face. Fire licks up his fingertips and he frowns, “You’re warm.”

“Chil,” relief fills you at his voice, something else filling the seat of your underwear. The hand on his tummy winds up to the collar of his shirt, you fumble with the top button, “Chil, can you- ? Please, I feel so fucking hot, Chil. I need you.”

Chilchuck casts the others a brief glance through the door before pushing up onto his elbows, one hand joining yours between your legs. He swallows harshly at the warmth, slithering beneath the waistband of your panties to skim his fingertips directly along your pussy. You push back into his hand with a mewl, near the point of gasping for breath at the new sensation of a man’s fingers pressing inside you.

“Slipped right in,” he muses, tilting his head to be level with yours, “So wet and ready, you should’ve woken me up before. Could’ve saved you the embarrassment.”

Anything impactful like words and vowels is slurred as you rock into Chilchuck’s hand, bottom lip tugged between your teeth. The pads of his fingers dive towards the pouch of your stomach, curling in search of one specific spot.

You gasp sharply and buck back, unabashedly and with no care if it catches bleary eyes from the other room, making him sure he’s found it. His other hand juts out to press up on your tummy, only aiding the pressure of his fingers inside you.

“Not- uh! - not gonna finish like this, Chil,” you whine pathetically, batting your lashes at him wetly.

“Who said anything about that?” he slips his fingers out of you, then swishing the soaked digits around your clit just to hear you try, and fail, to muffle a squeal into your pillow, “Finish: like it's a job. I’m trying to watch you squirm like the bitch in heat you are.”

You hadn’t assumed he was the type, given his opposition to being personal. His consistent, almost annoyingly thorough, separation of business and pleasure. This (apparently incorrect) observation stems from how you also hadn’t assumed he was the type to be curious about you.

Chilchuck teases your slit to watch if you'll try smothering more moans by biting your mat. He inches his face to yours, listening for pinched curses and wails. Eyes trail down your face to your chest, studying the way it pillows against the bedroll. He feels every part the creep he accused Laios of being.

“You're so sensitive,” he notes, shuffling onto his knees behind you, shoving his pants midway down his thighs, “What? Not used to this?”

You swat at him in protest, though still humping pathetically. Every twitch and moan is based on pure instinct, you’ve got no clue how to intentionally be sexy -- you’re just praying Chilchuck is too hypnotized by your cunt for your inexperience to be glaringly obvious. Between work and the fetishizing of both your race and curse, a partner has been hard to find: making you a rare half-foot approaching your golden years as a virgin.

Chilchuck lubes the head of his cock with your syrupy wetness before sliding inside, hands playing the fat of your hips. He lets out a low groan, one hand groping from your side up the curve of your ass and along your spine before winding in your hair. His fingers slot around the roots, taking the base of your skull to use as leverage while he fucks you.

He can make out the choked sound of you tempering a moan by sinking your teeth into cushion. You reach back, nails snagging his exposed thigh to anchor him deep inside your wetly clicking cunt. Chilchuck wrangles your back against his chest by your hair, placing his hand over your mouth as a muzzle. Hot breaths fan the soft skin of his palm, skin slapping skin slowly growing louder in a way that should make Chilchuck more careful than it does.

Rather, he speeds up, hand on your hip rounding to circle your sloshed, swollen clit.

“Just shut up and take it,” he grunts, releasing your mouth to seize your throat, until ribbed tissue presses into his palm.

Gagged whimpers and gasps die as sputters in the pit of your chest, Chilchuck biting and sucking your neck to silence his own wanton crowing.

Every glide out of you is met with your violent heat and need sucking him back in. Your head swivels, putty nose rolling against his cheek as you press sloppy kisses along his cheek.

Heeding your frantic, whispered pleas, Chilchuck shifts to return your kisses. Tongue against tongue, hands pulling your bodies into one sticky tangle.

“Gonna let me breed you?” he growls, using his weight over you to suddenly pin you against your bedroll. Your wetness dripping toward the mat, down his wrist, and along his pelvis, “Gonna give me a baby? Make me a daddy?” your ass perks up, tail coiling around his thigh to tether him, he chuckles cruelly down at you, “Yeah, such a good mousy cunt for me. Open and wet, taking my cock.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, gasping aloud now only for Chilchuck’s hand around your neck to return to your face -- two of his fingers depressing your tongue. Even with the obvious attempt to hush you, you call to him. Garbled, braindead slews of pleas for his cum and begging for (somehow) more attention.

“Is this really all your heat, or are you just such a secret slut?” your whine and clenching stir him up, gooey and compliant and bursting at the seams just for you, “Trying to be all cute, asking for help,” his thrusts quicken when you arch back, hand snatching around his at your clit, “If you wanted to be my cumslut, you could’ve fucking said so.”

You bury your face into your makeshift bed, muffling something in the mat, and Chilchuck yanks your head up by your hair,

“What was that, slut?”

Your thighs are quivering, cunt gushing around him, chest pounding erratically with the need for air, “Just want your cum, Chil!”

Chilchuck stills against you, shuddering and cock heavy in your gut as he cums inside you--

Not that you’re finished yet.

“So good!” you sing, welcoming the reprieve and stubbornly tucking Chilchuck deeper inside you despite him being spent. He throws his head back, eyes rolling in his skull as you continue, “Just a bit more, Chil, please, please, please!”

“Desperate whore,” he slumps forward, biting your shoulder before whirring onto his back, “You do the work now, if you’re so fuckin’ greedy.”

“So mean,” you pout, though the complaint doesn’t deter you from sinking onto his cock like this.

“You’re gonna fuck me asleep,” Chilchuck is courteous enough to languidly snap his hips up into yours, “Needy, desperate bitch.”

For as much as he teases you -- he’s on the brink of tears from overstimulation, voice clipped and throat raw with the need to cry.

“Just one more,” you whine, hands scratching back against his chest, “Gimme one more, please?”

“Fuck,” Chilchuck sucks in a sharp breath, icy tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, “Fine.”

An airy giggle flows through your lips, ditzy and hot and eager.

A few aggravated plaps is enough for Chilchuck to be puffing and shaking, your bounces deteriorate into heedy grinding. Chilchuck winds both arms around your midsection to pull your back against his chest, frustrated tears caking his lashes the longer his abused cock cooks inside you.

“C’mon, babe, you can cum for me. You gotta feel good, too, right?” he’s murmuring in your fluffy ear, flicking your clit with his thumb, “No point in this if you don’t feel good, too.”

His words are not what flips you into euphoria, but rather the sensation of his cum trickling from your swollen cunt -- fucked loose from your incessant jerking on him.

You toss your head back, Chilchuck narrowly avoiding a broken nose by swerving to the side. Loudly thunking together, your clamped knees trap his hand between your thighs -- gurgled cries for breath and his name croak from your hanging mouth.

“Good slut,” he lays sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against your neck, fingers slowing to a pause on your clit, “Best cunt for me.”

“Thank you,” you sigh into the open air, voice all soft and sweet.

Chilchuck laughs at the sound, lulling to the side to spoon you, “You’re way nicer like this. Could get used to it.”

“Don’t ruin this,” you yawn, pinching his wrist.

“Whatever, this better be enough to satisfy you,” he pulls the blanket over your conjoined limbs, too drained to pull up his pants and redress you.

“Hey,” you call, met with a soft groan of acknowledgement, “You know I’m not a mouse, right? I’m a rat.”

“Mhm,” he lazily confirms, “Sounds better than ratty cunt, though. So pick your battles.”

The next morning, a hand is shaking you awake. A soft and polite gesture immediately ruined when you realize the hand is much larger than Chilchuck’s. In a panic, your eyes shoot open to see your cheerful party leader.

“Thanks for going in the other room,” is the first thing out of his mouth, and you want to punch him, “I figure you two would want to get sorted out before everyone else wakes up.”

“Laios…”

“Hm?” his hand is still burning a hole through the sheet on your shoulder.

“Stop touching me.”

“Sorry!” he clutches the offending mitt to his chest, then rising to a stand and waving goodbye, “See you in a bit! Try not to take too long, okay? I have a lot of questions.”

“Get out.”

Unbothered by your mortification, Laios gives a thumbs up and creeps out into the room with the rest of your party.

“We should kill him,” Chilchuck husks into your ear.

“We should.”

“So,” Chilchuck cups the pouch of your tummy, squeezing in a way simultaneously strange and affectionate, “‘s this gonna become a problem?”

“Hm? Oh, no, I think I’m infertile.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Rat eggs and human eggs don’t actually mix well.”

“Well, it’s a relief I won’t have to raise another kid, I guess. How terrible would that be? I’d be on my deathbed when it gets married.”

…?

???

“Hey, wait,” you roll over in bed, brows furrowed at the man, “Another?”

He nods sluggishly, judgment clouded by both drowsiness and libido, “Three daughters already, so that’d be my fourth,” he cackles at your shocked face, “What? Sex with a coworker you don’t know isn’t panning how you thought?”

“Oh, shut up. I know you, just not your family. Totally different.”

“Definitely. Opposites.”

“So,” Laios swings his head towards Chilchuck, smiling politely, “How many nipples?”

~~~

stupid bonus

“What?” Chilchuck’s eye twitches.

“Sadly, I think it's only two because there’s only two visible mammaries…” the blonde has the gall to sigh at such a thought before suddenly blooming excitement, “Unless there’s more hiding in some kind of wrap! Are there?”

[zevrra]

hii!! i hope your doing well, im not sure if your requests are open rn

but if they are open, can you please write for Gaara (naruto) x fem reader who’s love language is physical touch? (hand holding, hugs, etc)

🫶 thank you!!

A Shared Touch—

tags: anon request, 18+ characters, gaara x fem!reader, pure fluff, gaara’s love language is 100% physical touch, this is so sappy and lovey dovey jshshs

creator notes: thanks for requesting! hope this is what you had in mind (bc i had no idea what to do im so sorry i wrote this at 2 am kshssjh)!! but i also hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this! thanks again!! ❤️

Sunlight warms your face as you sit at a wooden table. You sit in silence with yourself. Accompanied only by the sound of a soft breeze and a few chirping birds. A range of flowers sits before you, ranging anything from chrysanthemum to peons. Besides the flowers sits a pair of scissors. Using them to cut stems off of a few flowers here and there as you put together a small bouquet.

“What are you doing?” A soft voice asks from inside the doorway to the greenhouse you sit inside of.

Turning to look at the source of the voice and you find your loving boyfriend. A smile as warm as the sun shines on his face and you can’t help but mimic it. “I couldn’t sleep. Came here to do some arranging.” You respond. Watching fondly as he makes his way to your side.

He still wears the clothes he had slept in. He must have just woken up and upon finding your side of the bed came straight out to look for you. The sleepy was still in his eyes even as they look upon you with love.

A chilly hand touches your shoulder, moving to soothe across your neck. His teal eyes glance at your project before looking back at you. “They look as beautiful as you do.” Gaara compliments you.

For the years you had been together it took him quite a while to willingly touch you. Skin on skin contact had been one of his biggest fears. For so long, anytime your hand would reach for his; you were met with a wall of sand. Any brush of skin would have him standing frozen in place. He had never done any of it on purpose though and you knew that. It was pure reflex for the deeply traumatized man. Now it almost felt like he never wanted to stop touching you. To never let you go so he would never have to fear being truly alone again.

You wave his compliment off with a smile. It was too early to be so sappy. You set down your scissors to fully turn and face Gaara. “What about you?” You ask curiously as you grab hold of his hand gently. “Off to some important kage meeting I assume?”

Gaara shakes his head, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a small kiss against your skin. “No, not yet anyway. Just missed you.” He admits with a shy look. Glancing from your pretty face to the flowers you had gotten up that morning to work on.

It was truly a miracle how far the two of you had come. Once, so long ago, he would never have reached for you first. Would have distanced himself as far as he could. But now he sought you out first. Missed you simply because you were not by his side the moment you both woke up. It made you feel wanted and loved. You could only hope he felt the same.

You stand with the help of your boyfriend. Leaning in to kiss him and he meets you halfway more than eagerly. After you two part, he guides you towards the door he had entered from as you two plan to return to your shared home.

“Let’s go make some breakfast.” You offer. Your fingers intertwine with his, giving his hand a tight squeeze. A reassuring gesture that you would never let him go either.

You’d have to return to your flowers later.

[zippidi-dooda]

I am loving this event way more than I thought I would (haven't fully gone through it yet)

But I was not expecting Vil to go ham on insults

And this was just from what I played through today

Glad I'm not actually there cause I'd be in the background like "OOOOHHH! DAMN VIL, YOU TELL 'IM!!!" And Leona would hate me

Also love how we get the representation of someone who hates kids, I feel like there are few to no shows that demonstrate it

Cheka is cute and I love him, but I can understand Leona

To be honest, Leona has never really been on my roster, I am more of a Malleus/Deuce/Rollo type of gal

Leona just seems like someone more fun to bugger with

But this ...

This reveal???

Jaw dropping, king of the jungle for real, hubba hubba, hot dayum--Malleus forgive me

Another moment that I am glad I wasn't there for cause I was all over the other three's "take off the overcoat" reveal and would've been fan-girling over them, whooping and gassin' 'em up,

But the difference in how my reaction to seeing them compared to Leona would've been obvious

His aura was just so different and he doesn't show off his strength, he prefers brain over brawn, but now he was so smug about it

Like, yes, that's what I live for

Not to mention that I personally love the idea of "flirt fighting" which entails actually sparring. Wanting to better defend and strengthen yourself is the main motivator, but tension is a great plus.

And that's essentially everything he's doing here???

Get me in the ring with him, I will lose but I will enjoy every second of it

And then, when all's said and done,

He takes the time to actually voice his evaluation and assessment of everyone in a straightforward and nice way

I feel like I got to see a side of Leona I hadn't before and I'm really liking it

I remember reading a post about how Leona doesn't really resemble Scar who he's twisted from during the Book of Savanaclaw, where there was some good points made (namely, he kinda sat back while Ruggie did most of the dirty-work, it was on Leona's behalf but we didn't see much of him stringing Ruggie around).

But in this event we really get to see the "Scar Side" of Leona. His wit, his cunning and the issues that motivate Leona; he wants change for the better of his pride and knows how to get there quick, but others won't listen cause they have other values they'd like to keep in tact and it irritates him that they're putting the things that are (in his mind) more insignificant, first.

And I think introducing that part of Leona in this event instead of in Book of Savanaclaw works amazingly well because Leona is a prince, he is at NRC to learn yes but stays there (probably also gets held back on purpose so he'll have an excuse to stay away from home) to forget about his frustrations with his homeland. So, I think he wouldn't have much incentive to want to fix as much in his dorm or the school since his problems mainly lie back in his Kingdom.

Anyway, this is plenty fuel for happiness and story ideas and that's about all I have to share right now

(Also, the bow Grim is wearing is most similar to Leona's garb and since we are "a package deal" I'm assuming we're both wearing similar prints. So, we may be matching spectacularly with Leona. Dunno about you, but I'd gladly follow along as if I'm his trophy wife-- again, I'm sorry, Malleus don't come for me-- and also this is just more story fuel ...)

"Leona x reader x Malleus"

The story goes through the whole Cloud Calling event, with Y/N learning there's so much more to the lazy beastman than thought originally. But, when Lilia shows off the group's trip photos, Malleus is enraged to see you leaning happily against Leona in what are practically couples' clothes, the smug smirk the lion is sporting seems to be targeted specifically at the fae. What will happen when you return to NRC from your trip? Find out in the next episode

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC cast x fairy!reader

Hey anon I totally didnt accidentally post your ask before it was done being written and deleted it in a panic I promise that did not happen, if you happen to see this

Anyways

Uhuh

I never actually watched peter pan or any of the tinkerbell films(?????) So uh uh uh!!! I am yappin about stuff I'm not qualified for!!

CAINE:

OOOOOH!! He thinks you look so so cute and pretty! You guys fly together and talk, I think that's nice! Absolutely does call you tinkerbell

Probably adds a quiet and sped up "trademark" when he calls you that

Is tinkerbell trademarked? I... actually dont know how trademarking works... I know how copyright works but uhuh

He makes you a garden in the digital world, makes it huge with the most exotic plants he can think of! ...some probably dont actually exist in the real world

POMNI:

Depending on if you're normal sized or on the shorter side, I think she would find comfort in knowing that theres another short person around... does not enjoy the dust you leave behind when you start flying, though, it feels like glitter... feels very

Gritty...

RAGATHA:

Honestly I love the idea that ragatha grew up on fairly tales

Princesses, monsters, snot course, fairies! So I think even if she doesnt remember her life in the real world, she finds a comfort in being around you!

Oh she thinks you're so so pretty... I think she would keep some of your dust and out it in some jewelry. Like a locket,.. I think thatd be cute esp if you two are together

She doesnt even wanna use it for anything, assuming the dust has actual properties that effect stuff.. she just thinks its pretty

JAX:

I hope you guys all know that when he calls you tinkerbell he doesnt mean it as a cute endearing lovey dovey couple name. At least not fully. Nah at least some of it is him messing with you

I think he harvests your dust and throws it at people

Pocket sand!/ref

Definitely makes fun of your height if you're short. You dont even have to be the shortest. In fact I think he might even exaggerate how short you are. Might even say you're shrinking

All in good fun, of course

KINGER:

Ah... a ruler and a "magical" creature... just like in the story books!

Probably treats you as if you were a real fairy, even though he likely knows you're not..

"My radiance," became you shimmer and glow thanks to your dust and "magic"

You know how some people write people absolutely fawning over beautiful mythical creatures that theyve just discovered?

That's kinger with you

GANGLE:

ZOOBLE:

Oncr again I am presenting the hc that zooble was into supernatural and mythological stuff before they got stuck in the digital circus, so they would definitely hold at least a little interest in your digital body... though I dont think they would like your dust, either, since it can get stuck in between their limbs and joints and crevices and

Ieufjgkgmgmv

You know?

Probably hits you with those lil handheld vacuum cleaners before you even enter their room

Nope, no dust today!

Its nothing against you personally, it's just so uncomfortable for them..!

Also thinks you're really pretty! Makes art for you and probably incioperates your dust into the art!

I think I mentioned this idea in... I dont remember if it was a winged reader or a bird reader or both.. but I said she incooperates the readers loose/fallen feathers into art gifts, like how people used to put the hair of their deceased loved ones in jewelry

Same thing here but of course you're not deceased!

[kvgs]

summary: megumi x chubby fem! reader, this is fully self indulgent b/c as a chubby girl i’ve been feeling like shit about myself, megumi just being the gentleman he is

warnings: bad self image, kinda talk of ed and bad family life, suggestive….stuff

you were never good at feelings, neither is megumi. that’s what happens when you come from shitty home lives. but you knew one thing—megumi fushiguro is your best friend and you have feelings for him. feelings you cannot express without wanting to throw up or run away or curse at your parents for never showing you proper love.

plus, you’re not built like everyone else in your friend group. you’re painfully aware of this, so, megumi has to be as well.

he always says he doesn’t have a type, just an unshakable personality—nothing else matters to him. you refuse to believe that. giving yourself another excuse to hide your growing feelings for the brooding boy.

“y/n,” maki says, nudging you from your self deprecating daydream. “hm?” you hum, tugging the hem of your uniform’s skirt further down. “i asked if you wanna get food with nobara and i. get your head out of your ass,” maki lightly smacks you upside the head. a hiss falls from your mouth at the dramatic pain, your face twisting in annoyance. “megumi and yuuji are coming too. but more importantly,” maki leans in with a teasing smirk, “megumi is. the fact that you like that nimrod—“

“maki—no,” you cut her off quickly. she and nobara are the only people you’ve told directly that you like megumi. you can only assume that the others know because it’s not like you’re going at hiding it. blushing at every small thing he does for you. every small he gives you and not the others makes your heart sore. the way he remembers everything about you and has to ask maki, his own family member, when her birthday is. all basic things but things you never got as a kid.

the trio makes their way across the field and towards you guys. your hands clam up. you last saw megumi at breakfast where he insisted you eat more cereal, that there’d be a lot of training done today and you’d need the nutrients. he wasn’t wrong but you still felt guilty. “where’s panda and inumaki?” you ask, leaning to the side as you two stand up. maki smirks, “training, i assume. there the slowpokes are!” she announces as they get closer. “hey! i’m not a slowpoke!” yuuji groans as they approach.

“i am. i’m too tired. ugh,” nobara says, resting a dramatic hand against her forehead. megumi’s focus stays on you. his blue eyes are lit up unbeknownst to the both of you in a way that only light up when you’re in his sights. there’s a bit a sweat sheen across your forehead from training so hard and from the japan heat radiating off your skin. “you okay, y/n?” megumi asks with only a softness you receive. you raise an eyebrow, “yes, i’m a-okay.”

nobara huffs, “that’s great. i’m hungry. let’s go!”

you should’ve known this was gonna happen. you should’ve known when you woke up and saw what you didn’t like in the mirror. you ate near to nothing at lunch and here you are—forced into megumi’s dorm because your best friend knows when something is wrong with you. he knows when your world is about to combust and take you with it.

he’s currently on the corner of his bed, you on the other, refusing to meet his concerned blue hued eyes.

“y/n……something is up. and don’t say there’s not because we both know—“

“—that you know when something is wrong. yeah, yeah,” you huff, finally meeting his eyes. his face softens at your annoyance. you just wanna lay down and cover yourself until some bout of confidence comes over you and you can wear clothes without wanting to throw up. megumi inhales sharply, eyes shifting away from yours as he takes the chance and scoots closer to you.

“bad day?” megumi asks so low that if his room wasn’t so peaceful you wouldn’t be able to hear it. your gaze focuses on the carpet. “in what sense?” you question. megumi blinks, moving closer and closer until his thigh knocks into yours. shamelessly, his gaze wraps around you. the way your thighs sit on his bed, staring at the way your thigh high socks have your skin spilling from them. it’s sexy. you’re sexy. megumi hates me crude, he does but how you don’t find yourself sexy will always baffle him. of course he’s been attracted to other people but you—you are just everything he wants and needs.

“your brain,” he answers, forcing himself to lock onto your face again. he doesn’t regret it though. but—his heart sinks at the tears brimming your eyes. the ones that dare to stain your beautiful, chubby cheeks he’d love to lay kisses on. you snort sarcastically, “how’d you guess that one?” you sniffle. he furrows his brow, leaning back on his elbows. you turn to face him and for once you notice the way his eyes trail down your frame. you freak out. he sees it too. he finally sees it and you know it. how disgusting you are. how you’ll never be a good sorcerer because of the body you were burdened with. just like your parents said.

you wish in that moment your technique let you become as small as an ant so you could slip out of this room and never come back.

your feet hit the ground, “i’m gonna go—“

“y/n—“

“meg, i don’t wanna hear this. whatever bullshit, okay? i just—i wanna cry and be not—me,” you admit with a choked sob. megumi shoots up from his spot on the bed, hand’s subconsciously reaching out for you. your body winces, expecting something—anything except the soft touch that he holds your wrists with. “don’t wanna hear what, y/n? i just wanna help you. i’m not—i’m not the best with it and i’m sorry but i care about you,” he gulps, “a lot.” megumi shudders as he becomes vulnerable in front of his best friend. the same best friend he imagines kissing till neither one of them can breath, the same best friend he imagines losing it all to in her bed or his. the same best friend he wants to spend the rest of his life with, no matter how short or long.

“you can’t—help me, meg. no matter what i do i’ll be stuck here, in this mindset—me and you both know i’m gross—“

“what the hell are you on about?” megumi remarks offendedly, “gross? what are you saying?” you pout, the words of self deprecation circle your head but your mouth falls into an ‘o’, none of them able to fall from your mouth. it clicks for him. you think your body is gross. that’s never a way he’s heard you describe yourself. it strikes him with such a force that he might be more offended than you have ever been. he releases your wrist and you brace for impact. the agreement of your insult.

the face he adores so much refuses to look at him, only at the floor of his dorm. “y/n,” he says your name as if it might harm him. not that you’ll ever hurt him, but that the solemn look across your face might and once you look up—it strikes him in the heart like a bomb.

you’ve been silently crying while you stared at the floor. your brain feels like static and you’re surprised you even heard the call of your name with the war in your head. it’s shouting horrible things, your own brain is trying to kill you and sometimes it might be easier to let it but megumi won’t let you. no. for the first time in a while megumi has more than two people he cares about. people he feels responsible for. people he just wants to see happy and god, is your smile the one he always wants to see lit up, eyes crinkled in the corner from how ecstatic you are.

eyeliner from your makeup has fallen down your cheeks. mascara is basically gone along with the slight shine from your usual lip gloss. the things you put on everyday in hopes it’ll make you feel better about yourself. some days it does, some days it really does but other days you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror without feeling like a pig with lipstick on.

megumi exhales sharply, swallowing at the sight of your tear stained, puffy lipped face. his hands are still around your wrist but one let’s go, carefully reaching out for your face, giving you ample time to rush away from him. but—you don’t. his large hand cups your right cheek and you lean into the touch. the silence rips apart. your sobs fill his dorm room, body weak as you feel yourself give up. megumi, who isn’t good with feelings, knows he has to hold you. so, he encases you in his frame, a hand holding your head to his chest. he tries to remember what his mother or sister would do the rare times he got upset like this.

“i’m tired of it, megumi,” you cry into the dark cloth of his t-shirt. it’s your favorite shirt on him and you’re ruining it. you ruin things. just like if you tell your best friend your harboring feelings. his hand rubs your back and you wince as if he has hurt you when it ghosts past a roll that you despise. “tired of what, hon—,” he cuts the pet name off, settling for a bite of his tongue instead. only you would let such a sappy thing fall from his mouth.

you don’t hear it over how quiet it was with your sobs. you force yourself to leave his hold, already feeling cold and you wipe your tears, staring at the makeup that now coats your fingers.

“feeling like i’ll never belong. i’ll never be—girl enough because of how i look. never pretty—“

“you’re gorgeous,” megumi says so quickly that he himself doesn’t expect the confession. the worlds fall down his throat with a gulp, echoing through his head as he watches your eyes widen. your fists clench and unclench, the cycle repeats until it feels like you’re back on earth and not dreaming that those words just fell from his mouth. he takes a step closer, “y/n?”

“yeah?” you say, tearful eyes flashing down his frame. your cheeks are hot as a blush works it’s way up from your throat to them. megumi scratches the back of his neck, for once wishing he listened to nobara or yuuji’s more than likely horrible love advice. it’s better than the blank brain he has right now. no, he can’t be that desperate.

your bit of confidence dies down when he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a loss for words. “megumi, you don’t have to say anything to make me feel—better. i’m just expressing my—feelings. something we’re both not good at,” you comment with a nervous chuckle and another wipe of the tears that don’t seem to stop. the gears are turning internally, splitting megumi open as all the things he’s been wanting to say for months pile up in his tongue.

it physically hurts him and he curses his father wherever he is at for leaving him, causing his feelings to pain him physically.

“you’re—pretty, y/n,” megumi admits once again with a hiccup to his throat. flustered, you look anywhere but the dark haired boy. at his polaroids attached to the wall, at his books stacked on his desk. even the teddy bear you got him at one of the local fairs a couple months ago. it sits perfectly up right on his desk, right next to all his study material. something to remind him of you as he gets his school work done. your heart swells at the thought while the other half fights to beat you down again.

in a split second, his hands have dipped your face again. he’s admiring you. all the things you hate, he’ll love ten times harder. you’re gravitated to look into his eyes and when you do, your heart skips a solid two beats. it’s a look you’ve never seen in him before. or maybe never noticed.

love. lust. admiration. just a simple twinkle you’ve never seen in anyone else before.

your eyes match his, making his stomach twists as butterflies flutter from their cocoons. he can feel your skin heat up under his pale hands and he finally learns of the affect he has on you.

the tension is—intense. you’ve never been here. neither of you know what to do next. but, your lips are twitching as your gaze lands on his lips. so, you follow your heart.

your lips lock onto megumi fushiguro’s and with no hesitation, he’s pulling you in deeper. his hands find your neck, yours tug at his hair until somehow, someway you get turned around and your calves hit his bed. you whimper, pulling away breathlessly. you’re both panting but smiling. big smiles that radiate love and need. you both finally got the thing you’ve been yearning for since you’ve seen the other.

the break doesn’t last long because megumi can’t take the separation. his lips attach to yours more feverishly this time. carefully, he rests you against the bed. you disconnect for a moment, only to crawl up to his headboard with him hovering above you. his black shirt falls a bit, letting you peek under it to see his toned body. you ball the collar in your hand with a new found confidence. moans and whimpers fill the room from two inexperienced and needy people.

after what feels like a blissful forever, you pull away. his lips are swollen, coated in your mixed saliva. his hair is messy with a goofy look across your face. “fuck,” you say between pants. his elbows land on either side of your body, caging you against his bed. he’s bright pink. “you believe me now?” megumi asks, sight falling to your neck and then your pushed up breasts because anywhere is better than your eyes right now.

but—the gentleman side of him wins and he shifts from your rapid moving chest to your face. “believe what?” you question and for a second he thinks you’re joking. his face falls for a second, head nearly falling with it to the comfort of your stomach. he chuckles, “that you’re pretty, idiot,” megumi sheepishly says.

you swallow and megumi can feel your nervous breaths beneath him. “i—uh, might need a few more to just—prove it,” you tease, hands sliding around his neck once more. megumi smirks, clicking his tongue, “yeah? i think i can do that.”

“good,” you say lowly, leaning closer to him, full thighs wrapping around his torso. megumi licks his lips, “good,” he matches you tone, falling forward to land another never ending kiss on your lips.

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

OMG HELLO HELLO okay so I saw your lil inbox saying “up for requests!” and so I’m assuming that your requests is open and if it isn’t I am SUPERR DUPER SORRY BOOKIE ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

OKAY SO I was wondering if you would totally be up for Clawdeen x Fem! Humanoid Kitsune! Reader? LIKE FLUFFY HEADCANONS I FEEL LIKE THEY WOULD BE SOO CUTE TOGETHER ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ

ANYWAYY IF YOU READ AND DECIDE TO DO RHIS THANK YOUU SM >.<‼️

Hello Pookie! Yes my request box is always open unless I specify before hand rn they are open as a archway to a temple lol

Okay love this prompt and x reader pairing

I've never done headcanons so bear with me here haha,i love kitsune and their lore so happy to make this

__________________________________________

Clawdeen wolf x fem! Kitsune! Reader (with humanoid features)

(H/t) hair type

(H/c) hair color

(E/c) eye color

(S/c) skin color

Fluff/relationship headcanons

I will make a little background how y'all got together and then the couple headcanons

Clawdeen never thought she would ever find someone that would catch her interest let alone have a crush but that all changed when she saw you.

Walking through the halls with her BFF Draculaura something had caught her eye so she naturally looked over to her left and then she fully focused on the ghoul passing by.

A beautiful kitsune with (h/t) (h/c) hair, beautiful (e/c) eyes that seem so gently yet wise radiant clear (s/c) the seemed soft to the touch, you were dressed in a short kimono dress with kneehigh heels with gold accents all around even on the accents of the flower patterns on your kimono, you gave her a smile and said "hi" as you walked passed her and her best friend Draculaura in the hallway

That was the moment clawdeen knew she had to get to know you and maybe become something more. She didn't know yet but she had this strong feeling in her chest and that she should at least try to find you again today.

And to her surprise later that day Clawdeen had actually found you once more 'okay you got this Clawdeen' she walked up to you and started up a conversation "Hey i wanted to say i love your outfit its so fierce" clawdeen pushed her bangs out the way as she looked at you with a toothy smile.

You look at the ghoul in front of you happily "thank you! I love your skirt, the patterns are so clawsome" the looked at each other a little buzz in the air "mind if I sit down?" Clawdeen asked you "not at all please I'd love some company, oh and I'm [Name] what's yours?" [Name] extended her hand to the ghoul sitting across from her at the outdoor table, "Clawdeen, nice to meet you" [Name] nodded saying "nice to meet you too Clawdeen"

The two ended up chatting about fashion and their interests and then two months into knowing each other Clawdeen had asked [Name] out with chocolates and flowers which made the ghoul swoon and ran into the wolf's arm kissing her cheek and exclaimed "yes yes yes" as her fluffy tails wagged side to side excitedly

_________________________________________

Now the headcanon!

-clawdeen loves holding you by the waist as she talks to you in any place and time she feels so giddy holding you gently with one arm the warmth radiating from you both like a personal heater.

-whenever she's at your house she plays with your two tails and she likes to brush them and the blush on your cheeks when she puts her face in the softness of your fur motivates her to do it every time she comes over.

-you two are very cuddly behind closed doors and she's actually the little spoon because she likes to feel the soft purrs on her back as you hold her close by her middle.

(I'm gonna pretend you can purr hehe)

-Clawdeen loves it when you wear something of hers, since she's a wolf she liked the idea that this is one of her ways to mark you as hers and that no one will try to get with you,if someone tries to get with you they are screwed

-you also like when she wears your clothes just like Clawdeen you think that your scent on her will make idiots leave her alone before YOU tear them a new one.

- kissing is her favorite,the way your lips and her's fit so well with yours,the smell of your fruit flavor lip gloss and hers that mix together to make a new color when you part ways, ughh yes you should kiss her all the time.

-she really likes your human form you look so cute and the way you get slightly shorter than your monster form is actually too adorable

-Clawdeen will often make you two matching outfits, some are suits or dresses whichever you want to match with she's down to do anything for her muse.

-speaking of muses you are hers she's always making outfits inspired by you and your background every pattern every style it always seems she has you in mind throughout the process

-dates are going to the mall, parks, the boovies and just hanging out. Who knows maybe you'll take her to a parking lot and chill with some snacks and music playing (a make out will happen she can't help it you're just so pretty!!)

-Did I mention Clawdeen loves to pet your fluffy ears? Oh and she loves it when you do it to her too, just gently caress them with your soft hand and she's melting

-she spoils you but not in a buying you expensive things, no she remembers the candy's and chips you like and gives you a cute basket of them every few months and since the candy you like isn't expensive she's just buying you one and brings it to school for you to munch on in class.

-but on occasions like your birthday, anniversary valentines day and Christmas she'll get you a specific jewelry for the both of you to adorn, she'll make a romantic dinner and after it she'll hand you the box smilling wide and proud she got her muse something so precious and beautiful just like you..well the jewle almost matches your beauty but your prettier

-the two of you definitely have fashion shows in your room that end up becoming karaoke and just jumping up and down singing your heart out and dancing to a slow romantic holding you close and giving you neck kisses that make you giggle in delight.

-sometimes you'll turn into a fox and lay on her lap just for the fun of it and she pets you while she sketches in her sketch book with a content smile.

__________________________________________

That's all I got for now, thanks for the request I made this rather quickly is surprised with myself (^v^)

And I genuinely don't know if this is the right way to do headcanon. Sorry if it's not correct.

[ladyfocalors]

Slipping Through My Fingers

pairing: Childe x sibling!Reader 

warning: angst but it’s an open ending, murder, blood, mentions of death, family conflict... do tell me if I missed anything. 

note: So I am writing for Childe now. Did not see that one coming. When did that happen? I just got hit with a strong desire to read some platonic sibling angst stuff with Childe. Sadly, I found none that matched my brainrot. I like angst and I couldn’t resist the brainrot and this is what happened. 

A big thank you to @zeldadou for proofreading this and providing some ideas. 

word count: 1k 

The sun hung above the horizon, its fading light casting long shadows among the trees, their branches weighed down by snow. Winters in Snezhnaya were unforgiving, but today the weather was somewhat tame, offering a short rest from the constant biting cold. 

You clutched the bundle of materials tightly, each step causing a soft crunch through the layers of snow beneath your boots. It was rare for you to venture this far away from home, but a spur-of-the-moment decision, fuelled by the news of Ajax coming home soon, was what brought you here. The thought of seeing your younger brother after his long absence filled you with warmth. 

Ajax had always been a spirited and adventurous boy, traits he had carried from childhood into adulthood. As a child, he would eagerly pull at your sleeve, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he would show you his latest discovery. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory, his boundless enthusiasm both endearing and exhausting.  

Of all your siblings, Ajax had always been the one closest to you. You remembered the pride in his eyes when he became the elder brother, eagerly assuming the role of protector and leader, rallying the younger ones to your side as well. You cherished those moments spent together, especially after he was sent to the Fatui. 

Lost in thought, you missed the signs of danger until it was too late. The crunch of snow underfoot, foreign and menacing, shattered the tranquil silence, jolting you awake from your thoughts. 

With a sudden jerk, your arm was dragged back, a startled cry escaping your lips as your grip on the bag faltered, its contents spilling to the ground. Before you could fully comprehend the situation, a swift intervention sent your attacker reeling away from you. 

As you staggered back, heart racing, a glimpse of familiar ginger hair caught your eye. But instead of comfort, shock consumed you. 

Your shock turned to numbing fear as the violent scene played out before you. Unable to bear witness anymore, you averted your gaze, focusing on steadying your breath. 

A sickening thud nearby drew your attention, the scent of blood mingling with the frigid air as the pristine snow now painted crimson. You forced yourself to look back, refusing to accept what you saw. Ajax stood amidst the turmoil, moving with a precision that was both mesmerizing and terrifying. He seemed at home in this violence, as if he had done this before. 

This can’t be right, you told yourself. There must be some other explanation. Ajax couldn't possibly be capable of such violence. He was your little brother, after all, the boy who used to cling to your side, full of energy and mischief. This couldn't be him. 

You didn’t know whether it was minutes or seconds that passed but Ajax finally came to your side as a torch was lit by what you could assume as Ajax’s Fatui coworkers. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low and serious. 

“Ajax,” you said, ignoring his question yet scared to continue your own. “How many... how many have you killed?” 

You couldn’t read his expression in the dim light. The smell of death and the sight of so much blood seemed to rile something up inside you, a mix of fear and anger that clouded your thoughts. You were unable to grasp onto a single thought in your head, all seemed to be a jumble of things and you couldn’t calm down.  

“Many,” was his reply after a long pause of silence. 

“Why?” you immediately demanded, your voice desperate and trembling. “You are just a trainee. It's the Harbinger’s job to spill blood, isn’t it? It’s their job to be the reaper of chaos and destruction. They’re evil but not you. So, why?” 

You heard him sigh and say, “It's not as simple as you think.” 

You recoiled at his bleak response, taking a step back from him. “Not simple?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t want your defiance; I only want the truth from you. I asked, why are you killing people?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, whether out of frustration or weariness, you couldn’t tell. For a split second you could see his face illuminated by the flames from the torches and all you could see was his dead eyes devoid of any emotions. He was a stranger. 

“I am the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, not a trainee,” he admitted. 

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You steeled yourself, taking in a sharp breath of air. You didn’t know whether you should feel angry or cry or crumble in fear. 

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand,” he continued, his tone softer now. “But things are not always as they seem. The Fatui, the Harbingers... our actions are driven by more than just a desire for chaos. The Tsaritsa-” 

You shook your head, unable to comprehend his words. “I don’t care about powers or politics,” you said, your voice wavering. “I care about you, Ajax. And what you are doing is putting yourself in danger. You cannot justify this. What could justify you becoming a pawn in their twisted game of power? Do you even realise that you mean nothing to them?! And why lie to me?” 

You were met with silence. His face was once again illuminated by the torch. You looked at the Fatuus holding the torch. Looking around, you realise that Ajax being here wasn’t a coincidence. From the looks of it, they must have been tasked to kill the group of people who had tried to attack you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears welling up his eyes. “Please don’t hate me.” 

A part of your heart broke at his words. For a moment all you could see was the young boy who looked up to you, the one that would proudly show the fish he caught, his eyes gleaming with excitement. You blinked your tears away, the visual of the young boy now gone.

“I can never hate you,” you say, your throat heavy. “But I do not accept what you are doing either. You cannot resort to violence, especially murder.” 

Wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, you turned away, eyes brimming with unshed tears. If you could turn back time and stop your father from enrolling your brother into the Fatui, you would have. He may have been very reckless and out of control at times but throwing him to the Fatui was a mistake. The Fatui didn't train him to control his temper as your parents had promised you.

“Pick up the things from the ground, those are for you. I am going home.” 

© ladyfocalors

[coelacanth-designs]

Hi I don’t know who u r but ur apparently friends w a few of my friends so im gripping you shaking you and i want to know everything about your AU also sorry if im sounding unhinged im sending this ask at 4am bc im not scared to send asks at this time

WOA, I mean to be fair its 3 AM for me and I’ve been up reading the staple “silly things” ao3 fic LMAO.

But also yeah I’m assuming you mean Blood and Ichor! Which in that case I won’t say everything since I’d want to reveal more of that plot on here through art. HOWEVER! Allow me to explain!

To start:

Soul - Stratos

Mind - Kairos

Heart - Ichor

This AU as a synopsis deals with the opposition that, instead of heart and mind fighting. It’s Mind and Soul, continuously arguing over who could run the Whole better. Meanwhile Heart being more withdrawn and avoidant of arguments and fights.

I wanted this to deal with a couple of things such as characters that are these big and stunning ethereal creatures that live/ have these human -esk shells/ skins they live within. The idea that they just want to either understand, or be human, and the maddening aspect when they have to accept they can’t.

Thus it being called Blood and Ichor as I like the juxtaposition of Blood being what flows through human bodies and Ichor being depicted as what flows through the gods veins. This being part of the argument and discourse between Stratos and Kairos. Both aside from being inherently arrogant and prideful jerks, hate the idea they aren’t truly human, they can never fully relate to the Whole and so they take it out on one another.

What about Ichor though? Well Ichor they don’t particularly like. Not for things Ichor has done mind you, but for the fact that Ichor doesn’t seem to have the same issues if not tries to have them embrace their inhumanity. Ichor also being a slight nod to Icarus and his wax wings since, *symbolism we love it*. Ichor is actually quite a bit softer spoken then the other two, understanding that if he tries to argue it can spell disaster for him. (So he is at fault partially due to avoidance of action)

Oh, I will say some little notes I do find funny even if I won’t explain all of the things I’ve planned for them :00

-Stratos is short, like 5’5 and I can and will make them shorter. He HATES that Kairos is taller than them and will never tell this to Kairos (Kairos is 6’2 btw)

- Stratos cares, ALOT, for their appearance, it helps them feel secure in who they are if they like how they look. Kairos seeing this, reflected it a bit in his own appearance if you look at them side by side.

Meanwhile Ichor (whenever I finish theirs lol) I tried to show Kairos and Stratos’ designs as still being aligned and cohesive between the three. Ichor’s outfit is while a bit more regal akin to the others, but is softer to reflect that separation!

(This kind of moment actually happening between the three of them is rare so take this as a treat LMAO)

Anywho, I’m always happy to answer more questions about them, I absolutely a d o r e these three and they will not leave my mind-

[mswyrr]

The reason why lucy/max initially feels so youthful together so far, like kids with a first crush, and why they don't have sex yet, is that they're both "maidens" in a narrative sense:

The Maiden Arc is the fundamental coming-of-age story. It is the story of a character who has left behind the Child archetype (which we will discuss later in the series when we reach the Flat-Arc or “resting” archetypes), but who has not yet individuated away from her family and into her own autonomy. The Maiden represents sexual awakening and conscious burgeoning. Hers is that fraught period—recreated in so many YA novels—when the person is learning who she will become and, perhaps most poignantly, what she is willing to risk to become that person. [source]

They're starting to break away from authority, but they're both still obedient to authority & brainwashing when they meet and start to fall for each other. They're going to separate to dance with their shadows (Lucy with Cooper and Max with the Brotherhood/Dane) and figure out who they truly are - then meet up again.

To be clear, I'm not saying they're in any way actually "children" - they're both adults! But their relationship to authority and community continues to be that of "maidens":

There is no guarantee she will accept the risk. As with all of the arcs, there is no promise she will fully commit to and complete her arc. Although we all grow up physically and assume adult responsibility, the inner arc may remain uncompleted long into our lives. The obstacles the Maiden confronts are vast because true individuation is often perceived as a threat by the tribe in which she exists. [source]

They didn't have sex because it wouldn't have been as their sincere selves? They don't know who they are yet! They're still trapped in a "youth" phase - and now moving into fully incorporating their shadows and knowing themselves & what they want phase. They're only going to get together after that.

And as I mentioned in a previous post, this show (so refreshingly!!) actually includes sex and povs on it as part of characterization - so the fact that they're both "virgins" in a way due to brainwashing--Max doesn't even know his own body let alone what sex is! And Lucy was brainwashed to think of "breeding" as her obligation and purpose - she's only done that and casual sex, never fallen in love and "made love"--plays into why they haven't had sex yet and that, once they're more fully formed as their own people, they will come together in that way.

It's a well written romance arc. A bit of the dynamic where a "childhood crush" couple meets, are separated, and then meet again and falls in love as adults who know themselves and what they want - but in a sped up timeline because they're both on parallel coming-of-age arcs. IMO in the final lyrics "my echo, my shadow, and me" - the shadow is Cooper for Lucy and the Brotherhood for Max and they are echoes of each other - with both similarities and differences.

Side note: even when a canon is writing a romance well... it's still valid and fun to play in non-canon ships because art is for playing and exploring! And I am a multishipper, so please don't bring negativity toward any ship to my post.

[gemsofgreece]

Καλημέρα! I'd like to ask you about the colours of Classical statues and temples. Have you seen any reconstructions you liked? Bless the people investigating them, it seems they didn't wanna assume too hard so they ended up making the statues look somewhat on the very gaudy side. (I sent the same ask to @alatismeni-theitsa just to be sure)

Haha this is a sore spot for me because I really do love the woren all white look!

However, we all have to acknowledge that the preference for the bare white look is largely a bias infliltrating our minds through the presumed superiority of Renaissance Art. The colour of the ancient statues had already faded by that time, making Renaissance artists believe that this was the actual classical prototype that was supposed to be imitated and glorified.

I believe our love for the all-white classical look in sculpture is based on both this bias, but also the aetherealness, distance and solemnity that was believed to be communicated through this lack of colour and the exposition of the work done on the bare luxurious marble. That second reason is what I find beautiful in it too.

Of course, actual Ancient Greek art was coloured. Given that Greek art of antiquity aimed at a naturalistic approach, it is absolutely reasonable that the artists wanted their artwork to have the colours of the real subject / object it was depicting. What you see now are recreations based on whatever colour-tracing methods we have available today, which are not infallible yet. While the general conclusions must be more or less accurate ("this part of the chiton was red and the hair was black" etc), they still remain hypothetical because the methodology cannot perfectly detect hues, paint layers, different pressures on the paint and all those techniques that provide nuance and are integral to art. Having said this, we should also remember that creating paint hues in antiquity was extremely difficult and obviously the paint job done could not be equal to that of the last centuries. Therefore, with our modern criteria, ancient paint job must have often be underwhelming but, again, I believe we also are in a position in which we do not get the precise, fully accurate picture yet.

In a way, this conviction we all have that coloured statues are kitsch is kind of arbitrary, simply because the notion that sculpture reached its peak with the Renaissance is so very deeply engraved to our minds. Think about modern art for a moment: modern paintings, figures and figurines, ceramics with paint... or even sculpture from other cultures of the world outside the Greco-Roman sphere: none of this is considered kitsch, simply because none of this is directly compared to Renaissance scupting. (Although of course other cultures' arts are often viewed derogatorily through this very pervasive presumption that the Renaissance was the peak.)

We also should return back to the considerable probability of poorly made recreations, which lack nuance. Take these examples:

Jesus Christ Superstar

Not the best, right? However, if we see paintings and art from earlier times i.e Mycenaean and Minoan and contemporary ones like rare surviving Classical, Hellenistic and Grecoroman art, we realise that colours were used wisely and there was the concept of layering, shading and creating detail and nuance.

In this art of Alexander (100BC, exhibited in the Museum of Napoli) we can see an extensive use of highlighting, layering and creating shadows, which is very different from the blast of thick paint you will see on these recreations.

There are also recreations which prove exactly that a lot of the responsibility regarding how we perceive them lies on the very quality of the recreation itself.

Source

Honestly, for me this is totally fine. You can find fine modern art - even modern Greek folk art - of similar styles or colouring. The quality of the recreation here is far superior than the ones above.

This one, I am also totally fine with it, especially the last of the colourised ones. It took exactly the same amount of extraneous work for the artist to sculpt plus the struggle of painting it. And it gives us so much additional information about what fashion looked like.

The recreations made for ancient Greek temples prove more how colour could actually be used in good taste:

If I told you this was some late medieval manuscript art, you'd not think of it as kitsch. The idea immediately kicks in when I say it is a recreation of a Parthenon frieze colourised. (Source)

In this recreation IMO the Parthenon looks hella fine!

I confess I struggle with the Caryatids of the Erechtheion:

but I suppose it's partly because to us it looks like you took all the redhead Barbies you had and assigned them to carry the building. Without all the preconceptions we have, which are informed by kitsch cheap art of the last decades and the axiom that Renaissance sculpture is the best, Ancient Greeks were probably astonished by the beauty and realism of six different beauties making the temple stand. For me, who I am influenced by all that I have analyzed, my colour tolerance would go as far as having all of them like the Caryatid in the middle, with the white peplos. Apart from that, the paint in the temple is totally beautiful and elegant. (Source)

The neoclassical Academy of Athens uses paint like in antiquity except it draws the line in the statues (and perhaps it uses more gold). The Academy of Athens is exemplary.

Zappeion also has colour and it's marvelous:

I believe this was the aesthetic ancient artists were going for.

In conclusion, I think ancient artists tried to use paint in the best of their abilities, no differently than how we also almost always add colour to our modern art, except of course there must have been limitations to the qualities and varieties of paint hues that could be produced at the time, which would inescepably sometimes lead to results less than ideal. Regardless of how well or poorly painted any particular ancient artwork was, we are predisposed to view it negatively anyway because we are wired to believe that the Renaissance style set the standards for what is beautiful and what is not and that when it comes to colour in sculpture, less is obligatorily (much) more.

That's all I got to say! From my side, καληνύχτα! (I'm posting this way past midnight lol)

[fieldofdaisiies]

Strokes of Fate | pt. 1

paring: Feyre x Rhysand | type: angst | words: 3,4k words | warnings: none | masterlist

"You see what the painting looks like, right?" Rhys huffs loudly, flashing his best friends an incredulous look over his shoulder. The CEO's stands in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his hands in the pockets of his pants, shoulders slightly slouched, expression incredulous. 

Rain drops cascade down the glass, the coming storm mirroring the whirlwind brewing inside of him. The painting was a present, but—

"It reminds me of a pile of trash," Cassian, his best friend, hollers and tilts his head to the side to examine the painting again. His eyes narrow and he brings up a hand, folding three fingers over his mouth. 

"It could also be two plastic bags…filled with trash," Azriel adds, fighting the urge to laugh. 

Rhysand flips both of them off when he finally fully turns to them. "Idiots," he grumbles but when his eyes land upon the painting he has to agree with their descriptions. The figures on the painting could truly be mistaken for trash. He has absolutely no idea what the three objects should even display, but he truly hopes his friend didn't try to paint him, Az and Cass and rather aimed for something abstract. 

Cassian lounges comfortably on the plush couch, legs crossed at the ankles, Azriel next to him in an armchair, both chuckling at the awfulness that graces the wall behind Rhysand's desk. 

"You know, I truly appreciate all kind of art, " Rhysand says, turning slightly to look at the painting once again, then back to his friends. His voice carries a tone of bemusement, tinged with a hint of annoyance. "But this... piece of art looks like someone let loose a child with a crayon and then called it a masterpiece."

Cassian chuckles, the sound a welcome relief in the otherwise gloomy atmosphere. "Well, she isn't the tallest…one could sometimes mistake her for a child. I am sure her pants are child-sized."

Azriel cackles, but the CEO only rolls his eyes at his two idiotic friends. 

"What do I do now?" Rhysand turns away from them again, looking at the rain-covered window once more. "How do I get rid of it? And how do I get a good painting for my office instead?"

"What? You don't like the painting Amren made for you?" Morrigan, his cousin, appears on the threshold, red heels eliciting a clicking sound with every step she takes into the office. "I warned you about her artistic talent, but you wouldn't listen." 

If someone looked close enough they would have seen that Azriel's breath caught for a small second, a flicker of a moment, but the man quickly turns his attention back to Rhys, waiting for him to answer.

The blond female tosses a pile of papers onto her cousin's desk and grins at him. "It truly looks like a tornado broke loose and whooshed all over the canvas."

"That's also a great description," Cassian quips, air-high-fiving Morrigan who winks at him. 

"You need to give her more work to do. She has too much free time and gets bored easily. I am scared she picks up knitting —or worse sewing— next and makes clothes for all of us."

Rhysand throws his cousin a look over his shoulder that speaks volumes. "She has enough work to do…but I assume she gets bored when she is done working, Maybe you should spend more time with her." A gleeful smile graces his handsome face and now Morrigan is the one to flip him off. 

"I live with her, Rhys, I already spend all my time with her." Lifting one hand, the female brushes a strand of blond hair over her shoulder, braces her other hand on her hip and then turns to the other two men. She gives them a once over, thinking, and then turns back to Rhys. "I might know someone who could help you."

But Rhysand doesn't deign her a look anymore, eyes focused on a distant point outside. His gaze wanders beyond the droplets, into the city itself. Not much can be seen from up here, but movement still catches his eye.

"She's wonderful, just finished her degree, aiming to become a big artist. She is not new to the branch and has lot of talent, her pieces are wonderful, almost outstanding, and—"

"I doubt she can create a painting for my office. She's probably a street artist doing portraits of people who pass by. I need a real artist. A good one."

"Like Amren," Azriel throws in and earns himself a round of laughter. Not from Rhys. He isn't laughing, his face stays stern, annoyed. "Very funny," he comments. 

"You are impossible!" Mor huffs dramatically. "She is amazing, Rhys," she insists, "not a street artist, well she might be now, but she will be great and well-known in a few years. She has a certain way with the brush, creating magnificent pieces of—"

"Alright, invite her here and we will see about it." Rhys leans forward, eyes furrowed, transfixed on a female figure rushing through the rain towards a narrow alley. It's a deadlock and someone—

"She can't be worse than Amren, can she?" he mumbles, suddenly very unfocused on the conversation. 

Someone is following the female figure outside. The rain distorts his sight, his office, elevated and the city below shrouded in darkness, adds to the difficulty of seeing the scene properly. And even though, he doesn't know the figure outside a feeling of unease fills his entire being. It's like an unfamiliar sensation he can't shake off, a pit of unease forming in his stomach. 

"You are rude, Rhys," his cousin comments, but he ignores her.

 All his attention is on the rushing female outside. And the men following her. 

She darts into the alley, disappearing momentarily from view. Rhys's mind races, assessing the situation, the potential risks. His heartbeat quickens, and he himself is surprised about this reaction. 

The city outside his window is drenched in rain, no people are around who can help her. 

His gaze moves to the watch on his wrist - 7:07. It is already dark outside, one of the wonders of autumn. 

He hesitates for a moment, torn between staying in the warm confines of his office and the prospect of later climbing into his car, now parked in the carpark of his company, and then safely and soundly driving home, or— 

Something about the situation gnaws at him, urging him to take action, urging him to move. 

He turns from the window, quickly, and with a swift movement, grabs his coat. "One second," he tells his best friends, his cousin, not giving them room to ask for where he is going. 

He dashes out of his office, ditching the elevator that would take too long to arrive, taking the stairs instead, two steps at a time.

Outside, the rain pours down on him, soaking through his clothes within seconds. But he covers his face with his hand, shielding his vision from the rain. Rhys hurdles towards the alleyway, his heart pounding in his chest, rapidly. 

───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────

"You know how he is." Feyre slumps against the door with a loud and terribly annoyed sigh. "He won't ever let go. He is so persistent and he can't accept that I moved on."

"Classic Tamlin, I would say," Ressian chuckles and tosses her damp brush, the one she had just washed out and cleaned of colour, at Feyre. "I never understood why you got with him in the first place. He always seemed a little…strange." Ressina presses her lips in a thin line, watching Feyre closely. 

Feyre shrugs a shoulder, after having casually dodged the brush that came flying at her. "He was nice at the beginning," she says matter-of-factly. 

Ressian fights the urge to roll her eyes because she never liked Tamlin that much. 

Feyre shrugs again. "Whatever, I'll juts turn my phone off until tomorrow morning…maybe he'll get the memo. "Grabbing her bag, Feyre swings it over her shoulder, then shoves her phone into the outer pocket and grabs her pencil case (the one that does not fit into the bag) and a few spare sketch books (that also don't fit into her bag). 

But Ressina stops her, holding up a hand. "Don't you dare turn off your phone until you are home! It's dark outside already. New York City is dangerous, baby."

"Danger means nothing to me," Feyre says with a chuckle, but there is gratitude in her eyes. 

Ressina cares about her, and the young artist knows this. She will keep her phone on, and also close to her so in case of an emergency she can reach for it. But she doubts she will need it. She has walked the way home to her flat many times - also at night. 

A frown appears on her friend's face and she lifts her hand, to show Feyre a vulgar gesture for so bluntly ignoring her worry. 

"I will be safe, Sina. Thank you for caring and worrying about me." Feyre smiles. And reluctantly, Ressian returns the smile. "That's what friends are for, right?" She grabs her own coat of the hanger. "Text me when you get home, so I can sleep in peace."

Feyre bows her head and with her heart warming at the wonderful friend she has found leaves the studio.

The art gallery's doors close behind her with a creak, and the young artist is immediately enveloped in the damp, and cool evening air of New York City. Cars honk everywhere, streetlights draw shadows across the large building and despite the smell of fuel in the air, Feyre draws in a deep inhale. 

The rain leaves a soft sheen of water on the streets and Feyre groans audibly - she is wearing her new Converse after all and they are not made for wet streets. The weather forecast didn't tell her about rain, but then…she hadn't checked it so she couldn't have known.

 It is just bad luck, she concludes. Just like her failed relationship with Tamlin, heir to the Springer company and now her ex-boyfriend. That was also a whole lot of bad luck. 

Feyre, holding her sketchbooks as tightly and closely as possible, hoping to shield them from the drizzle, takes one small step after the other, her feet still somehow walking fast. 

Her hair is dampened by the rain, and she clutches the sketchbooks even tighter when a car drives past her. She hurries through the dimly lit alleys, her shoes sounding against the wet pavement. 

She just wants to get home. As quick as possible. And…only to go out again. 

She has to go out again later. She needs to get groceries. For her ill father. And probably also Elain, her older sister, who looks after their father. With Nesta at the dance academy four hours away, the two of them are left with dealing with their ill father. Feyre is incredibly happy that Elain does all the taking care of him, and she only has to go shopping for their food, but right now she just wants to fall into bed and zone out for the day. The day has been stressful enough. 

"No way," Feyre huffs under her breath when she feels how the rain intensifies, tiny droplets falling onto her head and running down her face. She pulls her coat tighter, over her sketchbooks, her breath forming small clouds in the chilly air. 

The sounds of shuffling from other pedestrians heading to their homes or wherever they are going, is only interrupted by her ragged breaths and the occasional honk of a car. Soon, Feyre thinks. Soon I am in my home. And soon I will leave it again…What a mess.

She doesn't allow herself to think further about it. To think about leaving her cosy home again. 

The rain-slicked streets of New York reflect the glow of the city and under different circumstances Feyre would marvel at them, try to remember them so she could paint them later. Not today. Not when the sky is emptying itself on top of her. She hurries along, her steps quickening with every passing block. Her arms strain under the weight of all her stuff, hoping not too much water will get on it. But since the raindrops already soak through her coat, her hope that her sketches will be safe is slowly fading. 

Out of the blue, Feyre catches movement in the corner of her eye. It is different to the other people passing by (the few who also have no other choice than walking in the rain) or the cars driving by. 

A prickling sensation skitters down her spine, her instincts suddenly on high alert. Something is amiss. 

Brave as she is, Feyre casts a glance over her shoulder, squinting through the watery veil that restricts her vision. Her breath catches in her throat - amidst the raindrops she makes out three shadowy figures. They are too close and don't look like they mean well. 

Her heart beats faster, the rush of blood pounding in her ears louder than the drumming rain. But her vision doesn't fool her. She can see what is behind her: three men. And they are coming her way.

Panic surges within her, and she forces herself to move faster, the urgency to escape propelling her over the sidewalk, away from the danger. She quickens her pace, the echoes of her steps ricocheting off the walls of the looming buildings. 

But the men stay behind her, close to her. They’re gaining on her. She doesn't even allow herself to think about what they could possibly want from her. 

Everything about this situation is unnerving. These men following her. And running in the rain - she has to be careful, she can't be too fast, it could be dangerous. She doesn't see quite well with the sheet of rain covering her vision. She might collide with something which would not be beneficial for her escape either. 

And then. "Fuck!" Feyre shudders. The alleyway ahead is a dead end. 

She halts, her chest heaving, her eyes wide with terror as the footsteps behind her draw nearer. Her thoughts race, heart beating in her throat. She clutches her things tightly, fighting the urge to scream. It would be useless anyway. No one would hear her. And even if someone did, she doubts anyone would help. That's how people are, she has come to learn. 

Three figures emerge from the mist, bodies and faces drenched in rain. 

"Stay away from me!" Feyre snaps, her voice not half as steady and strong as she hoped it would be. 

They ignore her. “If you have any money on you, hand it over,” one of them demands. 

She trembles, her breath hitching. She would give them all her money only for them to leave her alone. With trembling hands, she moves her stuff under her arm, trying to open her bag and fish for her purse. 

The rain continues to fall, getting stronger by the minute, drowning out all the other noises. She occasionally lifts her gaze, making sure they don't move closer. 

"Faster!" one man shouts. "Or should we make you?" He looks almost nervous. 

Feyre's heart is racing. She can't find her purse. She simply can't find. Did she forget it in the studio? It wouldn't be the first time. They ordered food and— 

Panic gnaws on her, terror making the contents of her stomach sour. She has no idea what these men are capable of. How much they need the money. To what lengths they would go to get it. The damn purse must be somewhere, Feyre thinks, but it—

"There you are. I've been looking for you." The sudden, deep, sensual male voice startles her. She whips her head up, blinking her eyes rapidly against the rain wetting her face. 

A tall man, drenched in rain, steps out of the shadows of the entry to the alley, having surprised not only Feyre but also the three men. "I hope these men are not causing you any trouble, my darling?"

He casually moves past the men, the downpour of rain drenching him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He slips a casual arm around her shoulders and even through the rain Feyre can see how the three men pale. 

"I was waiting for you at the car." He turns his attention to the men then. "Thank you for finding her for me," her saviour says to them, smooth and polished. "I mean, that is what you have been doing right?" His voice is so terribly calm. "You may leave now, unless there's anything you want to say."

There is enough of a bite in his last words that the men stiffen. 

Silent threats, Feyre thinks, the worst kind of threats. But the men are foolish, don't leave straight away and suddenly the anger is not so silent anymore.

"Get out of here! Now. And if one of you ever dares to follow and scare my wife ever again, I will personally send you to hell."

Without further comment, they scuttle back into the rain, outside the alley. 

Feyre, her heart pounding against her ribcage, steps out of the shelter of her saviour's arm and turns to thank him, but she stops dead in her tracks. 

Standing before her the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. "Are you alright?" he asks, voice much softer now. Gentler. 

He brushes his broad hand over his head, smoothing his wet strands of hair out of his face. 

Feyre is too stunned to speak. Too shocked about the situation. Too careful to yet fully trust the man. Her saviour.

"I—I." Feyre struggles to find her voice. Normally men don’t evoke this sort of reaction in her, but his presence, what he has done for her, and his scent of sea salt and citrus that even reaches her through the rain, render her speechless.

"I—"

She is about to open her mouth to thank him when he beats her to it. "You're welcome," he says. "For saving you."

Saviour or not, she bristles at his arrogance and retreats another step. Tendrils of breath are visible in front of her face when she clears her throat. "I was about to thank you."

The man inclines his head, a small smile on his in raindrops-covered face. "Allow me to give you a ride home."

"Thank you but no." Feyre grabs her things tighter and makes to move past him. She wants to go home now. She only wants to fall into her bed. This days has been too much. He saved her, and she is grateful, but their ways are parting here. 

"Please, allow me to take you home. Just a ride, I don’t expect anything—"

"Oh, I will hope so. I should have known that you are just like every men. Pretty face, old money clothes, and—whatever." If she had a free hand she would wave him off. Her words don't even make sense, but probably he just like any other man. Now offering to take her home and when they arrive at her place he expects her to take him upstairs and thank him for saving her.

She shoves past him. "Thank you, really, but I am a big girl, I can take care of myself. Good night, stranger."

It’s not in her nature to be mean, but the day has drained her. She is not in the mood to talk to him any longer. Yes, he saved her and with his violet eyes and the dark hair, he is very easy on the eyes. But Feyre is not in the mood. To talk. To have him drive her home. To spend time with a man. She is tired of men. Especially after her last relationship. 

She wants to sleep and that is it. And that is the only thing she wants to do this evening. No talking. No thinking. No being in a stranger's car. She only wants to be in her bed, warm and cosy. 

She doesn’t even give the stranger a chance to ask her again, the last please muffled due to the heavy rain, the next one not audible any more because she is already out of ear-shot, heart still racing inside her chest. 

tags: @girlinglass999 @autumndreaming7 @a-frog-with-a-laptop@honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone

[silver-hwaberry]

FIFTEEN: traditional first date

Warnings: swearing, brief suggestive (oral f receiving)

Word Count: 10.4k (sorry, it's a long one!)

Taglist: @kiwibaekie @fudgeflyssworld @kodzukein @elk-1998 @khjcoo @pepperony-7 @ateez-babygirl @starillusion13 @stephy-nicole13 @truthbehindthereflection @livingdeadlisa @stayteezdreams @atinyapple1117

I wake up with a start as a thudding noise comes from beside me. The top half of my body bolts upright and my eyes open wide as I look in the direction the noise came from. I see a rather scared looking Hongjoong right beside me, staring back at me, his eyes as wide as mine probably are right now.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up or give you a fright!” he says quietly

“It is ok Hongjoong.” I reply, running a hand through my hair as my other goes to my chest. I can feel my heart racing through my skin.

He leans down and picks up his laptop from the floor. I am assuming he must have dropped it and that made the noise that woke me up. I glance over at the clock on the wall and squint my eyes to see the time - 8.49am. I realise my 6am alarm did not wake me up and I look around for my phone, then remember that I had left it in my bedroom last night before I came upstairs. I hope it didn’t wake up the guys on the 2nd floor, especially San whose bedroom is above mine.

I look down beside me to see Seonghwa is fast asleep. He looks so peaceful. “I hope it is ok that I slept in here. Seonghwa insisted it was.” I say, looking back at Hongjoong. Although Wooyoung had already told me it was ok for me to sleep in the shared rooms, I was still a bit on edge. I didn’t want to make the other person feel uncomfortable in their private space. And both times I have slept in these rooms, the other person wasn’t there and therefore had no choice to sleep in the room with me in there.

“Of course it is Luna. I don’t mind at all.” He smiles softly, but I can see something in his eyes that said the opposite. His face looks awkward as he turns away from me and walks over to his bed.

“Wait, are you going to the studio?” I ask as I see him pick up the bag he always takes to work.

“Er.. yeah.” He replies, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“You are off work! It’s bad enough you went in last night after performing all day and then the fansigns and calls afterwards. I know you didn’t get home until at least 3am too!” I knew it was after 3am because I had woken up in the middle of the night to use the toilet and saw he wasn’t back yet.

“Actually, it was closer to 5am.” he says sheepishly, avoiding looking at me.

“Hongjoong!” I scold lightly, standing up from the bed. “You are going home today, so why are you going to the studio?”

“I am not leaving until 3pm, so I can easily fit in a couple of hours at the studio. I am working on the new Japanese song and I cannot get it to sound right. It is really bugging me and I won’t be able to relax if I don’t fix it. I know I can do it before I go home and it will mean I can fully relax on my time off because I know all my work is done,” he says. “I will be back here at 2pm!”

“You better relax, mister!!” I say. “If I find out you did any work when you go home, I will not be happy with you!” I add, as he laughs.

“What will you do?” He asks, stepping closer to me, his hands reaching for my waist.

“Hmmm, I’d definitely have to punish you.” I reply as he pulls me into his body, his hands staying fixed on either side of my body.

“Maybe I’d like to be punished.” He grins and I feel my tummy flip.

“I don’t think you’d like my idea of a punishment, though.” I say, placing my hands on his shoulders.

“and what would that entail?”

“Lots and lots and lots of English homework!” I raise an eyebrow at him as he bursts into laughter. “Maybe even make you speak only English for an entire day as well.”

“Oh, you have an evil streak in you!” He laughs, his hands snaking around my waist.

“I certainly do.” I grin as he pulls me into his body. “So don’t let my big innocent eyes fool you!”

“I better not get on your bad side then.” He says, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. The one he is well known for on stage. The one that, hopefully unknowingly to him, can turn me into putty in an instant. My eyes fall down to his lips as they move towards mine and just as they touch, a loud groan comes from behind us. Hongjoong pulls his head back and steps backwards, letting go of me as we turn to see Seonghwa rolling over in his bed and stretching. “I should go.” Hongjoong says softly.

I watch as he continues to collect his things as Seonghwa sits up in bed. My eyes return to Seonghwa as he looks up at me with one eye open and his hair sticking up in every direction, pushing his body back to lean slightly upright against the headboard and pillows. “Morning Luna.” he smiles lazily at me, his voice deep and crackly from sleep.

“Good morning.” I say to him as I sit back on the bed beside him, his head falling onto my shoulder, making me smile more.

“I will see you two later on.” Hongjoong says to us. “I promise I will be back at 2pm and will leave all my work in the studio too!” he directs at me as I go to open my mouth. He knows me well already, as I was literally about to say to him to make sure he comes home in time before he has to leave for home so he isn’t rushing. “Bye!” he adds, putting his bag over his shoulder

“See ya Hongjoong.” Seonghwa yawns, waving at him. “Were you telling him off for overworking before I woke up?” he asks me when the bedroom door closes

“Why do you think that?” I ask, turning my body to face him.

“He looked scared when he said he would be back at 2pm.” he laughs as do I

“Am I that scary?” I ask.

“Put it this way, I’ve never seen him look like that in all the years I’ve known him. Well, only when we were trainees and with management sometimes.”

“I don’t want to be scary!” I pout playfully, putting on my innocent eyes. Seonghwa suddenly grabs my hips and pulls me down into a lying position, eliciting a tiny yelp in surprise to escape me, then a laugh as his body hovers over mine.

“You don’t scare me.” He smirks, leaning down to kiss me.

“No!! I have morning breath!” I giggle covering my mouth before our lips could connect.

“So do I! I don’t care,” he says, removing my hand and placing his lips on mine. “Now, if you don’t mind, I am very hungry.”

“Want me to make you pancakes for breakfast?” I ask as he kisses my neck.

“Not the hunger I am talking about!” He smirks before moving lower

“Seonghwa!!” I gasp in shock as his hands pull my pj bottoms and underwear off on one swift yet smooth movement. His head disappears under the covers, as I can only laugh at his actions. My giggles soon stop, replaced by a small moan, as he doesn’t waste any time getting to work. “Oh god…” I moan again, my head falling back onto the pillow behind me. “Seonghwa!” and I hope to god that everyone else is still asleep!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After Seonghwa gave me 2 orgasms with his tongue alone, we finally got out of bed and I made him the pancakes I had offered earlier. Thankfully, everyone was still asleep, or at least still in their bedrooms, so I hoped that none of them heard me as I was struggling to keep quiet. Completely forgetting that Wooyoung and Yeosang were in the room beside us and Jongho was down the corridor. So yeah, hoping hard they were fast asleep!

After breakfast, I went for a shower in my room and started getting ready for my afternoon date with Yeosang. Every time I think of it, my stomach flips. I am very intrigued by where he was taking me, but I also was looking forward to spending some time alone with him. The other night on the sofa was the longest we’d spent, but also going to sleep with him cuddling me and waking up to him wrapped around my body was nice.

I look into my full-length mirror as I put my earrings in. Outside my room door, I can hear people talking and laughing. I hear a small knock at my door as I put the other earring in. I say to come in, looking at the door through my mirror to see who it is. I smile as I see Wooyoung head pop in.

He looks so cute with his hair in its naturally wavy state, with some of it pulled back into a small ponytail. I love it that way, but I’ll tell none of them how weak in the knees those ponytails make me when they wear them. Last week Hongjoong wore one for a performance and I swear I needed a cold shower at that moment. If Wooyoung knew how they made me feel, I know it would be a massive source of teasing from him and the man teases me enough daily!

At home, it is not unusual to see them with their long hair tied back, especially when they’ve been at the gym or just got home from practice! Seeing them with wavy and curly hair as well makes me feel less self conscious of my own naturally curly hair too.

“You look beautiful!” He says coming into the room and closing the door.

“You aren’t just saying that?” I ask, giving myself a final look in the mirror smoothing my skirt down before turning to face him.

“Absolutely not! Yeosang is a very lucky man.” He smiles, his head tilting slightly to the side. “I’ve never seen you wear a skirt either! I like it… a lot!” His smile turns into a cheeky grin as he wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“He said it was casual, but cute and as you already know that to me, casual is hoodies, baggy jeans, oversized T-shirts, sweats. Basically tomboy to the max!” I laugh softly as he chuckles, sitting on the chair at my desk. Yunho had given me his spare gaming chair to use while Hongjoong looked for one I wanted. “So I hope this is ok,” I add, looking down at my outfit of a blue knitted vest top over a white T-shirt with a black skirt and black knee-high socks.

I place my hands on my hips and let out a small sigh, as I am really unsure. I hate how I am second guessing what I wear on dates with them. I’ve never done it before. I have always had the attitude that if my date does not like how I dress, then it is their problem. It isn’t anything the guys are doing either to make me feel this way. They always tell me how they like my style, that I look good in my clothes etc but I am putting pressure on myself to look good when I am out with them.

“Come here.” I hear Wooyoung say softly as he pulls me down to sit on his lap, his arms moving around my waist and placing a kiss on my shoulder. “Your outfit is perfect. You are perfect.”

“I am far from perfect!” I laugh lightly, one of my arms automatically wrapping around his shoulders while the other rests on top of his arms around my waist.

“You are pretty damn perfect to me!” he chuckles. “You are so small and cute, like a little doll! I just want to put you in my pocket and carry you around!”

“Small? We are nearly the same height!” I giggle

“Shush!” He pouts. “I am taller! You are my little doll!” I feel his arms tighten slightly as he playfully sways the chair from side to side. I lean forward to kiss his cheek, my lips connecting with the soft skin of his cheek and as I pull back, his head moves quickly forward to capture my lips. I kiss him back, my fingers holding onto the fabric of his hoodie around the back of his neck. The kiss deepens quickly and his breathing changes rapidly, just like the day before.

One of his hands moves from my waist down to my bare thigh and he squeezes the soft flesh before the same hand slips under my top. I feel his palm connect with my stomach and a little involuntary moan escapes my mouth. “Sorry.” He says, suddenly pulling away from me.

“Why?” I ask, feeling confused at the sudden gap between us as he covers his mouth with his hand. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” He says looking back at me, his eyes widen. The hand on his mouth moves to the back of his head and I can see he looks genuinely conflicted. “No Luna, you did nothing wrong. It was me! I shouldn’t have even kissed you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as his hands move to my hips and lifts me off of him. I stumble slightly at suddenly being moved to my feet as he pushes himself off the seat. “Why shouldn’t you have kissed me?”

“I crossed a line and I am sorry,” he says, not looking at me. “I let myself get carried away and I shouldn’t have!”

“Wait!” I say loudly as he turns away from me and makes his way quickly to my bedroom door. However, I am quicker than him and make it to the door before he does. I stand in front of it to stop him from leaving. “What line?”

“Luna, I should go!” he says, his eyes looking anywhere but at me. “Today is Yeosangs day.”

“Wooyoung, look at me!” I say firmly, my eyebrows lower. His eyes reluctantly look into mine and I can see guilt in them. “What do you mean by ‘Yeosangs day’? and why are you saying you shouldn’t have kissed me?” I question.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you at all today because today is your day with Yeosang and his with you,” he replies

“And that means you can’t kiss me?” I ask as he nods his head slowly. I huff a little at this because I don’t understand it. “One rule between us all is no time sharing. Surely that means that just because I am going on a date with one of you doesn’t mean that I cannot be affectionate with someone else.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I am not being respectful to your relationship with the other guys,” he says softly

This causes me to pull him into my arms. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him as close to me as I can get. “I would never.” I whisper into his ear as I rest my head on his shoulder and my hands stroke his hair. “Woo, I love your kisses and your cuddles. I love when you are affectionate with me and I don’t want you to hold back with me if you don’t want to.” I lift my head to look at him. “I respect your feelings about this though and while I completely love that you are respectful towards my relationship with the others, I am also in a relationship with you, too. You are my boyfriend as well!” His eyes look into mine and I can see how conflicted he is. “Wooyoung, are you ok with our situation? Me being with the others and you?” I find myself asking.

“No!” he replies quickly, his eyes going wide. “I mean yes, I am ok!” he adds even quicker. “I m-meant no, that I-I am ok with you being with the others a-and myself.”

I can’t help to let out a small laugh at how flustered he is. I have never ever seen this side of him and I admit it; I like it because it is very rare he gets this way, but I am also not wanting him to feel this way either.

“I am just hyper aware of your relationships with the other guys and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or cause any form of disrespect,” he says calmly

“Wooyoung, I don’t think you could ever be disrespectful to me or anyone. Please don’t think that way!” I say, one of my hands moving to his cheek. “If you really don’t want to kiss me or be affectionate on days I have dates with the others, then I will respect your wishes, but I never expect you to hold back.”

Although we had sat down at the beginning of this and had a talk about basic rules and things I don’t want, it was never official and, to be perfectly honest, we were all still in an awkward place. Now it has been a few weeks, things are settling down and we are all getting comfortable around one another. Admittedly, Jongho is still a bit on the shy and awkward side in one-on-one situations with me. However, he is slowly getting used to being alone with me and I am happy that he is, so I am not forcing anything.

Nevertheless, I think we need to have another conversation. A more in-depth conversation about how people are feeling, especially on date days, as I don’t want to have any of them feel uneasy. I make a mental note to speak to Hongjoong about this when he comes back from his parents to arrange this. Wooyoungs lips capturing mine interrupt my thoughts. I automatically kiss him back as he pushes me against the back of my bedroom door, my head hitting off the peg my night gown hangs on.

“I am so sorry!” he says

“It’s fine!” I laugh.

“I made you hit the back of your head, though!” His hand rubs the area I hit. “Are you okay?” he tries to look at it but I pull his hand away

“I am fine! I have a very tough head!” I reply, kissing the back of his hand. “It’s like steel, so don’t worry!” I put his hand back on my waist where it had been before. “Now where were we?” I grin. I lean upward to capture his lips once more.

After a few hesitant kisses from him, he relaxes and we pick up right where we left off before my head bumped into the peg. I feel his hands move down to my ass, giving it a squeeze before pulling my body closer to his. Before I know it, he has lifted me up. My legs instinctively wrap around him as he pushes my body against the door again. A small whimper comes from my throat and my body stiffens slightly at the sudden action, but I can feel how secure I am in his arms and pinned between his body and the door. I know he won’t let me fall, so my body relaxes once more and I continue to kiss him.

“You drive me insane, jagiya.” He groans as his lips move from mine to my jawline and down to my neck. “You do not know how much.” His teeth skim the skin of my neck before he pulls his head back to look at me. His hair is now a mess from my hands, his lips red and swollen with a hint of my lipstick on them and his face flushed pink. He leans forward and gives me the sweetest kiss I’ve ever experienced. A stark contrast to the kisses seconds before, but I am not complaining. “I really need to stop now.” He whispers to me, his eyes gazing deeply into mine.

He is right; he needs to stop. We both do before we go too far. I nod and kiss his lips lightly. I feel his arms surround my waist, and I hold on to his shoulder securely as I unwrap my legs from his hips. He holds me steady as I put my feet back on the ground. I go to move away, but he leans down and kisses me sweetly again. “I need to go pack.” he says

“Are you seriously not packed? You leave in like 20 minutes!” I laugh.

“Hey, I am not Mr Organised like a certain person who lives in this house, but I am a fast packer and I always have everything I need. Rarely do I have to buy things on the other end,” he replies, laughing too as he kisses my forehead.

His arms let go of me and takes one step backwards to give me space. I reach over to wipe the remnants of my lipstick off his lips with my thumb as he smiles at me. I can’t help but smile back because his smile is infectious. It also makes my tummy flip when he does it to me. We could be in a crowded room, but when he smiles at me, it feels like we are the only two people in that space.

“When you come back, can you and I spend some time together? Just the two of us?” I ask him as I fix his messy hair.

“You don’t even need to ask that! Of course we can. I want you all to myself again!” he says, leaning across to place a little kiss on my lips. I go over to the mirror to check my hair and makeup and I find it still intact. Other than needing a bit of a top-up of lipstick, my makeup is untouched despite the heated kisses. “Before I forget, the main reason I came in here was San was asking for you to go to his room so he could say goodbye before his dad arrives to pick him up and Seonghwa.”

“Wait, Sans dad is picking them up?!” My head snaps back to him as he nods, “Fuck! I thought it was a manager!” I feel a bubble in my tummy knowing that Sans dad absolutely cannot see me.

“No, Sans dad always comes to pick him up when we get time off. Seonghwas hometown is on the way, so he always takes him as well. He would drive each of us home if he could!” Wooyoung laughs

“That is… actually really sweet he does that.” I smile as he opens my bedroom door.

“He is. Sans dad is like all our dads now. He is so nice. He texts us all regularly to see how we are and calls us as well. It’s easy to see where San gets his kindness and compassion from.”

In the lounge Mingi, Jongho and Seonghwa are playing a game on the ps5. Seonghwas bags are at the doorway to the hall so I can see he is ready to leave. All three are shouting and laughing at the tv screen. Wooyoung and I walk behind the sofa and I can’t resist touching Seonghwas head as we walk past. He turns his head to see who touched him, then smiles widely as he sees it was me. Jongho laughs even louder, causing his head to quickly look back at the screen to see Mingi has scored a goal against Seonghwas team. I hear Wooyoung chuckle and hold on to my hand as we make our way upstairs. When we get to the second floor, he gives me another kiss. “Enjoy your date with Yeosang and seeing your family, too. Make sure you rest as well!”

“I will as long as you do too when you go home!” I reply.

“Not a chance with Kyungmin around!” he laughs. “I don’t mind it, though. It is never a dull moment with him. I imagine your sisters are the same?”

“Oh yeah! Double the trouble as well!” I laugh too. “Now go pack! I’ll see you on Friday.”

“See ya!” he smiles, patting my head before going up the stairs to his own room. I turn and make my way to Sans. His door is already open, so I knock and pop my head in. San is zipping his suitcase.

“Hey sunshine!” he smiles, tilting his head to motion me into his room.

“Wooyoung said you wanted to see me.” I say, walking fully into the room as he lifts his case from the bed and sits it upright on the floor.

“Yeah, I wanted to say goodbye in private. Didn’t want to do it in front of the others because I’ll end up getting teased for it,” he replies.

“You don’t need to explain.” I smile at him as he comes over to me. He holds me close to him, taking a deep breath as if he is inhaling as much of my scent as possible.

“I am going to miss you,” he sighs, burying his face in my neck. “A lot.”

“You’ll be back in a couple of days, so just enjoy the time with your family and being at home.” I reply, stroking the back of his head. “But I’ll miss you too.” I whisper into his ear, causing him to chuckle lightly and his arms to tighten ever so slightly.

“When I come back, we will continue The Sound of Magic, so don’t watch any of it while I am gone!” he laughs

“As if I would!” I laugh back. “It is our little thing.”

“I like the fact you and I have a thing that’s just ours.” he smiles at me. “I can be a little bit selfish sometimes with you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I don’t mind sharing you with the others or spending time with you and everyone else at the same time. However, there are times I just want to keep you to myself and I love when we do.”

“I love it as well.” I say, looking up at him as his hand moves to my face, gently cupping my cheek. He tilts my head as he kisses me. I smile as I kiss him back. It is a soft and sweet kiss. Slow and controlled.

“Sorry to interrupt you two,” Seonghwa voice says softly, “but your dad is in the garage. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“It is ok hyung. Thanks for letting us know.” San says, pulling back from me.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Luna.” Seonghwa smiles at me. We had already said our goodbyes after breakfast, but it was nice to see him again before he actually leaves.

“Bye.” I smile back at him before he leaves the room

“I don’t like this, leaving you. It just doesn’t feel right.” he sighs, his eyes looking into mine and they look so sad. I’ve never him look this way and I don’t like it.

“Hey honey, don’t think that way!” I say, touching his face. “You aren’t leaving me, and I am not going to be alone. I have Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho. I’ll be seeing my friends too and my family. However, if you want to talk, then just text me! Anytime of the day or night. I don’t care, I’ll message you back as soon as I see it. And you know me, my phone is usually in my hand!” I giggle.

“That is true!” he laughs, and it’s nice to hear him perking up again. From downstairs, we hear a lot of voices causing us both to look towards the partially closed door. “I guess that means my dad is here.”

“Go, I’ll stay up here until you are gone, so he doesn’t see me.” I say.

“I am sorry,” he says. “I want to introduce you so much, but I know I’ll end up calling you my girlfriend and Hongjoong has told us parents aren’t to know about you yet. Even if I didn’t say that, my dad would just ask questions about you on the drive home and he’d figure it out!”

“You do not need to explain at all! I completely understand. My mom is the same!” I smile, kissing his lips to reassure him. “Now go!”

“One more kiss!” he playfully pouts, bending down to be eye level with me and capturing my lips. It catches me off guard and causes me to laugh, but I kiss him back. This one is more intense. Not in a heated, sexual way though, more in an extension of his emotions way. “I better go before he comes up to my room.” He says as I nod. “I’ve taken the password off my computer. If you want to play any games on it with your friends, then you can use it. No arguments either! I don’t want you going to the internet cafes alone, especially at night!”

He definitely knows me well as that is exactly what I was planning the following day!

“I wasn’t even going to argue with you! It is pointless even trying.” I laugh. “Thank you for trusting me with your computer, though. Now, go!” I say, gently pushing him away from me to get him to move.

“Ok, I’ll text you when I arrive in Namhae. Enjoy your date with Yeosang this afternoon too,” he says, picking up his backpack and pulling his suitcase towards the door. “Bye!” he blows me a kiss before he disappears out the room.

I keep the smile on my face until I hear him go down the stairs and sit on his bed, sighing. I didn’t like this either. It was only a couple of days! I didn’t know why I was feeling this way about them going home. I hear San shout “Appa!” as he gets to the lounge, and it makes the smile return to my face again because I can hear the genuine excitement in his voice at seeing his dad.

As soon as I hear the apartment door close and it go quiet, I leave Sans bedroom. I make my way down the corridor towards the stairs, being quiet just in case they come back in. I lean over the bannister, trying to hear for any signs of life downstairs when a voice from above makes me jump. “What are you doing?” I look up to see Jongho looking down at me over the bannister on the 3rd floor. A massive smile appearing on his face.

“You scared me!” I whisper.

“Sorry. Why are we whispering?” he whispers back.

“I want to make sure that Seonghwa, San and his dad have definitely left before I go downstairs.” I answer, looking down at the 1st floor again.

“Ah right.” He says as I hear his footsteps on the stairs. “You know you can still go down there.” he slides beside me, looking down as well.

“What if one of them forgot something and they come back and Sans dad sees me, though?” I mumble, biting my lower lip.

“We just say you are giving me an English lesson! You don’t have to skulk in the shadows like this,” he replies, making me look at him. “Come on!” he pushes off the bannister and grabs my hand. I am so shocked by the sudden action that I don’t resist as he pulls me down the stairs with him. “I am on dish duty today and Hongjoong is already coming home from the studio. If they aren’t done when he gets back, I’ll get scolded.” He keeps a hold of my hand as we walk down the corridor towards the kitchen.

“I can help you with them.” I offer.

“Oh, hell no! This is my job to do, plus you are going on your date soon. But you could always supervise me?” he grins at me. “Make sure I am doing it correctly.” His eyebrows wiggle playfully, causing me to laugh and nod as he navigates me into the kitchen. Still holding my hand, he takes me over to one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and makes me sit down. “You can boss me from here,” he says, letting go of my hand and pulling the sleeves of his shirt up.

There weren’t many dishes to be washed, just a couple of plates, some cutlery and 2 mugs, so it didn’t take him long as we chatted comfortably during it. Like we do when the others are around, except it was just the two of us. It felt like a very good step in the right direction for us.

“Are you seeing your parents tomorrow?” he asks, sitting beside me after he has put the last dry dish into the cupboard

“No, their flight arrives pretty late and they’ll be going straight to their apartment rental. It is a direct flight to Seoul from London so there are no change overs. The girls will be tired from the flight. It usually really tires them out and all 4 of them just crash out when they get to the apartment.” I answer

“It is a long flight from London.” he nods

“I’ll see them on Wednesday though, as we are going to have lunch with my uncle and his family.” I answer.

“Big family reunion! Sounds nice.” he smiles.

“It will be chaotic and noisy… but really nice.” I smile back.

“Do you normally speak English with your family?” he asks

“Mostly. My parents speak mostly Korean when they visit though, but the twins aren’t as fluent as my parents and I are. So we speak a mixture of both for them when they come.”

“They are still young,” he says, “And Korean is a hard language to learn if you weren’t born here. Even I still get things mixed up! I am sorry to ask you this, but are their names Soojin and Hyejin?” he asks hesitantly. “I don’t want you to think I don’t listen to you, but you only said their names once on the first night you arrived here.”

“Don’t apologise! That was a while ago I said that. Yes, Hyejin is the older twin, while Soojin is the younger one. They are fully identical too.” I answer, pulling out my phone to show him a photo of them. He moves closer to me and I can feel his body heat as our shoulders touch.

“Wow, they really are! They look like you as well!” he says, staring at the screen and smiling.

“People say that, but I can’t see it. I think they look more like my dad. Soojin is getting good at her Korean now. My dad says she is a mini me with her learning, while Hyejin is just a free spirit.” I laugh. “No one can tell her what to do. If she doesn’t want to do it, she won’t.”

“Is Hyejin the troublemaker twin?” he asks as he rests his elbow on the counter in front of us and subtly moves closer

“Oh no, they are both little troublemakers. Never underestimate their innocent faces! They are usually plotting something.” I say, “However, Hyejin is usually the one who thinks of the idea, while Soojin creates the perfect execution of said idea!” Jongho laughs loudly at this, causing me to laugh too. It is the first time I’ve made him laugh like this.

“They sound so funny!” he says, his eyes staring into mine in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. I feel one of his hands touch mine as his gaze briefly drops to my lips, then moves straight back to my eyes again, and he leans his head towards mine. I can feel his breath on my lips as they are just about to touch.

Suddenly the chime of the front door opening causes him to pull back quickly and stand up from his bar stool. He clears his throat and looks nervous as I sit upright. I feel like we have just been caught doing something we shouldn’t have. Hongjoong comes around the corner and smiles at us. “Ah Luna, you are still here. I was hoping to see you before I left.”

“I was just doing the dishes.” Jongho says rather loudly, causing both Hongjoong and I to look at him. His face is covered in guilt and I know he is feeling awkward over the little moment we just had. “I am going upstairs now,” he adds before leaving the room quickly without another word.

“Something wrong?” Hongjoong asks me as I stare at the doorway Jongho has just disappeared from.

“Not at all.” I shake my head, but inside I feel a little frustrated. This is the second time we’ve shared a moment that another member has unwittingly interrupted. “You wanted to see me?” I ask, looking back at him.

“Yeah, I just wanted to check if you’ll be okay while I am gone.” He says, “I know it is only for a couple of days and this is me fussing again which you hate, but I know I won’t relax if I don’t check first.”

“I’ll be fine!” I smile. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know I don’t, but I can’t help it. I know it has only been a matter of weeks since you came into our lives, but I feel rather protective of you. I think we all feel that way.”

“I understand.” I nod. “I feel the same way about all of you. Which is why I am happy you are all finally getting to rest and see your families! So honestly, no need to worry about me at all!”

“Good! I should go double check my bags.” he smiles. “I’ll see you when I come back on Friday.” He leans down and kisses my cheek before leaving the room and run up the stairs to his bedroom.

I hear the doorbell chime, causing me to turn my head towards the doorway. Usually if someone comes to the apartment, they ring the video camera at the building entrance, but it didn’t go off. The only people who visit the apartment are the managers, and they usually just come in, so it is very unusual for the doorbell to go off. I hear someone jogging down the corridor and see Mingi go past the large doorway between the kitchen and the hallway. I hear the door opening and a soft chuckle coming from Mingi and some shuffling before the door closes.

“Luna, someone is at the door for you.” Mingi grins widely, coming into the kitchen.

No one knows I even live here! Who would be at the apartment to see me? I stand up from the bar stool, feeling really confused as Mingi just grins at me.

“Who is it?” I ask, feeling my chest tighten a bit. I can feel my nerves rising a bit at who it is.

“Just come here.” He tilts his head towards the direction of the front door.

Reluctantly, I move towards the doorway, but I stay close to Mingi as we go into the hallway. Instantly my chest loosens as I see Yeosang standing infront of the closed front door, holding a stunning bouquet full of pastel coloured flowers.

“I am here to pick you up for our date.” he smiles

“Smooth man!” I hear Mingi smile under his breath before he leaves us alone.

“What are you doing?” I break into a laugh and move towards him.

“I want it to be like a real date.” he says, kissing my cheek

He hands the bouquet to me and I smile even more, tilting my head to smell them. They are absolutely beautiful. “It is a real date!” I say, looking up at him.

“I mean, like if we were going on a first date in a traditional manner.” he replies

“What would a traditional first date with you be like?” I smell the flowers once more before I look back at him.

“I would pick you up from your home with flowers. I would drive us to our date, but today we have Myeonjin driving us.” he says, his hand delicately cupping my cheek. “Just because we live together doesn’t mean that I won’t be traditional and do things the way I would if we didn’t live together.”

I can feel my heart swell a little at this. It is so romantic.

“It is cheesy I know,” he mumbles, looking away, but I can see a red blush appear over his cheeks. I place the flower on the little bench at the door and put my hands on his face and gently move it back to look at me.

“It is not cheesy. Not in the slightest. I love it!” I whisper. “Does a traditional first date allow for a kiss right now?”

“Normally I would leave a kiss until the end of the date but we’ve already kissed… a lot!” he chuckles lightly, “So I say yes.”

I break into a grin as he leans down, but then stops just as our lips are about to connect.

“Just so you know Luna..” His lips ghost mine “…you may kiss me whenever you want...” My stomach flips as I feel his breath on my mouth and his brown eyes staring into mine. “…I don’t care if the other guys are there.” My heart literally skips a beat at his words and the way he is looking into my eyes. There is a hint of something in them, something nice, calming, and reassuring.

“Are you sure?” I ask him.

“I don’t want you to hold back and I don’t want to either anymore.” After what feels like an eternity, his lips brush against mine and I close my eyes, melting into the kiss. One hand on my waist as the hand on my cheek moves to the side of my neck. The affirmation of his words that I can openly show him affection now and no longer hold back makes my heart skip a beat.

“You look beautiful.” He smiles, resting his forehead on mine. “I love your outfit!”

“Is it casual yet cute worthy?” I ask.

“Very!” he chuckles, oh how his cute little laugh makes me smile. “And just so you know, you are always cute even in your pjs, glasses on, no makeup and your hair in a giant bun,” he whispers, “as you lounge on the sofa, wrapped up in your kuromi blanket, eating your little bowl of strawberries and watch your kdramas.”

“oh my god!” I laugh at the very idea of that image in my head even looking remotely cute.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, pulling back from me, but keeping his hands on my waist.

“I just need to get my bag from my room and I am ready.” I reply.

“You go get your bag and I’ll put your flowers in the kitchen.” he smiles

I quickly make my way to my room, I grab my bag from the back of the door handle and check I have my usual essentials. Purse, brush, perfume, tinted lip balm, phone and epi-pen. I pull out the epi-pen to give it a once over. Something I have done for years. It is always good to make sure it is still in working order and not expired either, as a health care worker scared me with a story over someone’s failing when they needed it. Now whether that was true, I don’t know, but it definitely gave me the scare to always check them every week. I give myself a final look in the mirror, fixing the parting in my bangs, take a deep breath and say quietly, “You got this, no need to be nervous.” and leave my room.

Yeosang is already in the hallway again, waiting for me with a smile on his face. It is only now that I notice his own outfit. He dressed all in black and looks effortlessly stylish, like he always does. As usual, he helps me to put my shoes on. As we leave the apartment, I feel his hand slip into mine and holding it gently holds my hand as we make our way to the private garage underneath the building.

Myeonjin is already waiting by a black tinted SUVs. He goes to open the door as we approach, but Yeosang puts his hand up and gives a small shake of the head, opening the door himself and holding my hand as I get in. I smile as I do so before he closes the door and does a little jog around the other side to come in.

“So can I know where we are going now, or is it still a secret?” I ask as Myeonjin pulls out of the private garage.

“It is a little secluded cafe over in Gangnam.” Yeosang smiles

“And you said you’ve never been in?” I say.

“No, I’ve never had the time, but a couple of my friends have been and said it was good. I always knew it was somewhere I wanted to go with someone special,” he says, holding my hand. “And as much as I like our managers, I do not class them as someone special,” he whispers, glancing at Myeonjin in the drivers seat, who is bobbing his head to the song on the radio, completely unaware that Yeosang just called him someone not special. I can’t help but giggle at this and interlock our fingers. “Well, to me anyway,” he adds on laughing too.

“Well, I am very excited to see this cafe and even more to spend some time with you as well.” I reply.

“So am I.” he smiles, his free hand moving a part of my long bangs off my face.

As Myeonjin drives through the streets of Seoul, making his way over the Han River towards Gangnam, Yeosang and I talk between ourselves. The conversation flows so easily between us now, so much different from a couple of weeks ago when he could barely look me in the eye for longer than 30 seconds. Now he is holding eye contact, initiating physical contact, and it feels like he is fully relaxed.

“We will be there in 2 minutes.” Myeonjin says from the front seat, and Yeosang squeezes my hand before letting it go. He has held it the entire car ride from the apartment to Gangnam. He pulls out a hat from the pocket in front of his seat and puts it on. He passes me a black mask before putting one on, too.

“It is just procedure,” he says. “We can take them off when we get into the cafe.”

“Oh, I know.” I nod, taking the mask from him and putting it on as well. “It is broad daylight and you need to stay as anonymous as possible in a public place.”

“Sorry.” he says pulling my hand into his once more

“No apologising, I get it.” I smile. “I want to help protect you all too and to keep you safe, so I’ll do whatever I need to.”

“We all must have done something great in our past lives to deserve someone as amazing and understanding as you.” He replies, squeezing my hand. “We are very lucky.”

I am the lucky one, to be surrounded by these wonderful men who just want me to be happy. I am about to say this when the car slows down to a stop. Myeonjin gets out of the car first and speaks to a man dressed in black standing in a small alleyway. Out of context, it looks like some dodgy deal is happening, but I recognise the man as one of the security for the band. They are both nodding and Myeonjin looks over and gives Yeosang a hand signal.

“Stay here.” Yeosang smiles at me before letting go of my hand and getting out of the car. I wonder what’s going on, thinking the hand signal meant something was wrong until Yeosang goes to the other side and opens my door. He puts his hand out for me to hold and I feel myself smile again. “Lets go in.”

He really is being a gentleman on this date. It isn’t something I’ve ever experienced. My previous partners weren’t bad or horrible, it just wasn’t something they did. The way all 8 of them treat me, opening doors for me, checking that I’ve eaten, drank enough water, making sure nothing in my environment affects my allergies, even making sure there is always a supply of fresh strawberries in the apartment and at work for me.

Yeosang continues to hold my hand as we walk towards Myeonjin and the security guard, who, from what I can remember, is called Sohyun. “Everything is sorted inside,” the security guard says to Yeosang, walking ahead of us. The path is narrow and lined with lots of green foliage and mixed flowers. At the end of the stone path, I can see the cafe. It is very hidden and secluded and I wonder how Yeosang even discovered it when it is so hidden between the buildings and the nature.

“What does he mean ‘everything is sorted inside’?” I ask Yeosang quietly as we approach the door.

“We have the cafe to ourselves for a few hours. I wanted to make sure we could enjoy ourselves without fear of someone recognising me or taking photos. So Myeonjin hired out the cafe and Sohyun scoped out the place too, to make sure there aren’t any hidden cameras,” he replies, as my eyes go wide. “Don’t worry! This is all very normal when we go places like this.”

Sohyun opens the door for us as we walk in, and I see it is empty. Apart from 2 staff members are the counter who are busy working. “On dates, you mean?” I ask as Yeosang takes me over to a table by a large bay window that looks out into a small courtyard filled with plants and even some wildlife and pulls the seat out for me.

“Anywhere public that we just want to have privacy at,” he answers, sitting across from me. He takes his hat and face mask off as I do the same. “If the place is small enough, the company can sometimes hire the entire place, so it is only us or we can go into private areas in larger places.”

“That makes sense.” I nod, putting my bag on the empty seat beside me. “I can understand that. It is things that us normal people take for granted. Just being about to go out for a meal with friends without worrying.”

“But to answer your question - yes, dates too,” he says quietly. “Between our hectic trainee days, debuting, then our work schedules, we didn’t really have time for dates, though.”

“But you still got to go on dates, though?” I ask. “From what I understand, you guys didn’t have a dating ban.”

“We only had a ban during the trainee years, but we all found a way around it without the company, or Hongjoong finding out!” he laughs. I’ll bet! I can’t help but laugh as well at the thought of them going on sneaky dates behind Hongjoongs back while also reminding me when I used to sneak out the house to hang out with boys when I was a teenager. “I hope this is ok. I preordered an afternoon tea, but you can order anything you want from the menu!” he says.

“oh my gosh! I love afternoon teas!!” I gasp.

“Oh, that’s good!” he sighs lightly, smiling, and his face looks relieved. “I was so worried you would hate them and I had made a mistake.”

The 2 staff members bring over 3 tier trays filled with finger sandwiches, cakes, sweet treats, fruit. Everything you could imagine and it all looks so delicious! “Oh, wow!” I say once they have left. “Afternoon teas always remind me of my mom. She would take me to one or make one at home.” I smile as Yeosang pours some tea from a china teapot and moves the cup to me.

“Are you settling into the apartment okay?” he asks, opening a napkin

“I am. I won’t lie. It felt rather strange at first, especially after living alone for so long. I was, and still am, very aware that it is your home. The only place away from cameras that the 8 of you can be yourselves, and I didn’t want to impose on that place of privacy for you all.” I answer as he hands me a plate.

“It is your home as well now. A place that you can be yourself too,” he says.

“I know, and you’ve all made me feel so welcome. It is why I am feeling more at ease in the apartment now.” I say. “I enjoy living with you all. I didn’t realise how lonely I felt living alone before and how much I missed people! The dorms I lived in for uni were such a social place, a lot of fun times.”

“I found it hard living in dorms when I first moved to Seoul. It is hardly a secret that I am not the most social person. I was even more quiet when I was younger,” he says as I nod to let him know he has my full attention. “Too used to living with just my parents and sister to being a dorm in a new city with lots of people I didn’t know. I was on the verge of giving up and just going back home.”

“What made you stay?” I ask.

“Wooyoung!” he chuckles. “Things got easier when we became friends. I didn’t feel as lost or alone. He looked out for me and helped me get to know the other trainees. It was a hard decision to leave the company I was with to go to KQ and a massive risk too, but when Wooyoung followed me, risking his own career to be with me, it showed me what true friendship was.”

Hearing Yeosang speak to openly about life as a trainee, his friendship with Wooyoung and his move to KQ makes my heart warm. He is a very private person, I’ve known that before I even accepted the job and I know it isn’t easy for him to be so open with his feelings but here he is, telling me such ease as we spend the next 3 hours just enjoy the food and drinks, and talking easily to one another.

When it is time to leave, Yeosang asks me if there are any cakes I want to take home for later on. “We should get something for Mingi and Jongho too. I know Jongho doesn’t like sweet foods, but I am sure there is something he’d like.” I suggest as Yeosang nods. We go over to the counter and pick a selection of treats. I take out my purse to pay for them, but Yeosang waves his hand at me. “This was my idea to get a selection of treats, so let me pay for it!” I protest as he pulls his card out of his wallet.

“Absolutely not! This is still a part of the date, so I’ll pay!” he says, handing the card over.

“Fine!” I sigh, putting my purse back in my bag. “However, I will pay next time!”

Yeosang nods, but I can tell it is a ‘yeah ok then, just try it!’ nod rather than a ‘of course you can pay next time’ nod. Yeosang puts his hat back on and we put our face masks on, then head back to the car. It is raining lightly now, so we walk quickly since neither of us has coats on as Sohyun opens the car door. Yeosang lets me get in first and I shuffle along to the other seat to let him in. Myeonjin is already in the drivers seat and it isn’t long before we are pulling into the private garage.

As we walk into the apartment, it feels so quiet. Knowing over half the guys were now gone felt bizarre. I am thankful that Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho were staying. It would have felt weird being completely alone in the apartment.

“Thank you for the date.” I say to Yeosang. “I had a really good time with you.”

“I am glad. Thank you for accepting the date.” He smiles.

“So it’s the end of the date. How does traditional date Yeosang handle this part?” I grin at him.

“I would make sure you have arrived safely at your home.” He says, pulling me towards him. “If it felt right, I would ask for a second date.”

“And are you going to?” I ask.

“Do you want me to?” he teases, his hands move from my waist down to my butt, holding me closer to his body

“Yeosang!” I whine, pouting as he chuckles

“I’d take you on a thousand dates if I could!” he whispers, kissing me.

In an instant, he has me trapped between the wall and his body as his kisses deepen. Being in this position with him in the alcove at the front door to the apartment is becoming a very regular thing now.

I can feel him getting turned on as we kiss and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling the same way. A small moan escapes him before he pulls his lips away, panting as he tries to regain his breathing.

“Are you ok?” I ask, moving a hand to his face as I feel his entire body shake lightly.

“Luna, I don’t want to make you think I don’t want to continue, because I do. I really do!” he sighs, lightly resting his forehead against mine. “I just… I’m… Sorry!”

“It is ok! Don’t apologise!” I kiss him lightly. “If you want to take things slowly, we will.”

“It isn’t about taking it slowly. I don’t want anything to happen that could ruin the night or make you regret anything. It has been such a perfect day with you and I am just worried.”

I feel a small pain in my chest at hearing him say he is worried and honestly, there is nothing I could do with him I would regret, but he needs to be 100% happy too.

“Then let’s have a relaxing night. No pressure, no expectations and definitely no worrying!” I say. “I don’t want you to feel that way, not with me. Ok?” he nods in reply.

His arms suddenly envelope around my body, tucking me into his. I smile as I rest my head on his collarbones. “Thank you,” he says, kissing the top of my head. We stay like this for who knows how long, both of us just enjoying the moment together, in one another’s arms.

“Oh, I didn’t know you two were back home.” Jonghos voice comes from the other end of the hall at the doorway of the utility room.

“We just got back a few minutes ago.” Yeosang says.

“Mingi and I were just about to have a movie night, if you two want to join us?” Jongho asks, “Unless you two already have plans!” he adds, his ears turning a shade of red and it is clear to see what he is meaning

“We don’t.” Yeosang smiles down at me. “Give us 10 minutes to get changed?”

“Perfect. I am making popcorn anyway and Mingi is down at the store getting some more snacks.” Jongho smiles before going into the kitchen. Yeosang gives me another kiss before we head to our bedrooms to get changed into our pjs.

20 minutes later, the 4 of us are on the sofa, the treats we got from the cafe and the snacks Mingi got laid out on the coffee table in front of us, giant bowls of freshly made popcorn, and trying to pick a movie. Yeosang shuffles behind me while Mingi is on our right scrolling the tv with Jongho stretches out on the other corner of the sofa.

“You guys pick whatever you want.” I say when Mingi asks me to pick.

“We can never decide, though.” Jongho laughs as I feel Yeosangs arms snake around my waist, pulling me to sit between his legs. “You need to be the deciding vote! What you say goes.”

“How about we do a blind pick? Close our eyes, Mingi scrolls on the remote, we count to 5 and whatever movie it stops on, we watch?” I suggest leaning into Yeosang, his chest pressed against my back and his legs on either side of my hips.

“Thats actually a good idea!” Mingi says as Jongho nods

As we all close our eyes, I feel Yeosang place a kiss on my cheek, causing me to smile and reach behind me to touch his face. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5!” Mingis voice shouts, causing us all to laugh and we open our eyes to see the highlighted movie is Frozen 2 prompting Mingi to sing Into the Unknown as Jongho covers his ears. I look back at Yeosang and to see him smiling down at me.

“Thank you,” he whispers into my ear

“For what?” I ask.

“Being you and accepting me… accepting us, and our insane lifestyle.” He replies.

I literally feel my heart skip a beat at his words as he leans forward to place a kiss on my lips and for the first time in a long time, I feel content and stable. Although only Hongjoong was aware of my bipolar so far, the others had accepted me and I knew I would need to tell them soon. As our lips part, I twist my body slightly to lie on my side, still secure in his arms so I can cuddle into him better. I look over at Mingi and Jongho as the movie begins, and I cannot help but smile. As much as I already miss the others, I feel so happy in this moment with the 3 of them, and incredibly lucky too.

[rotzaprachim]

the thing is that in real life I’ve been accused of “only caring about Palestinians” or abandoning Jews or something after Oct 7 because I’ve been so focused on the ceasefire efforts and advocacy, and it’s like, of course I am. If I could bring back anyone killed on October 7 I could but I can’t and so the only thing I can do now is prevent more deaths. That’s what I can do. And on here I’ve now been accused of being a selfish nihilistic white nationalist cryptozionist for talking about antisemitism, because that is the fire I see happening every day on social media and at this point it has now got a body count. And it’s like, we have got to allow people the realization that the best thing we can do is put out fires where we see them. We do what we can. That’s the best we can do. but a few addendums:

Let’s stop assuming peoples opinions based on what they /don’t/ post. There’s so so many reasons people are /not/ posting about things on (anonymous/semi anonymous) social media in particular that governments everywhere /are/ cracking down on pro-Palestine activism and so peoples posting may not be apathy but rule number one of protesting, which is don’t doxx your comrades!

in the immediate aftermath of Oct 7 I reblogged a post with links to support, one of those links ended up leading straight to a group that had celebrated the H AMAs attacks. A day later I saw a post trying to discredit recordings of the attacks and it linked to a website that linked to the daily stormer. This is the newspaper of the KKK. I’ve also reblogged things that were shared by people who have also supported the Russian and Syrian governments continuously. This is not me telling you NOT to support journalists or the need, but it is me telling you how I have been part of the misinformation feed as no well and why I am hesitant to share unsourced information. I will not reblog or post anything that does not have an immediate source link. White nationalists, tankies, and white supremacists are not your friends. They do not care about the Palestinian cause.

I think people are really, really lost on the dangers and extent of antisemitism. I am patently not saying that what’s happening to Jews is /as bad/ or /less bad/ than the absolutely horrific war crimes being inflicted against gazan citizens right now. I am not saying that. I am saying that whole hearted willful antisemitism is being partaken of by a huge sector of people around the world, both white and nonwhite, and I do not think people fully understand there repercussions of it because they think Jews are still ultimately privileged and it ranges from /not that bad/ to /something they’ve all collectively made up to justify war crimes./ I cannot emphasize enough how bad public, violent antisemitism done in the name of the Palestinian cause is to both antizionism and the support of Palestine. This is not a two sides zero sum game, this is something that is actively harming the movement in real time and which people do NOT comprehend is happening in the age of the screenshot, where anyone can get recorded. One of the most significant issue is that attacking Jews and Jewish institutions has now made this a domestic citizen issue in many countries, and that has given Islamophobia and anti-Arab security states a legal prerogative to attack Muslims and Arab communities as well as any Palestinian activism. Calling for the mass death of Jews (even the ones you don’t like) on social media is an incitement to ethnic violence, guys, and it’s made so so much worse when you’ve put a Palestinian flag in your bio. These “neutral” things on social media are having a REAL impact on attacks on Jews AND on legal crackdowns against Palestinian activism.

there are a lot of bad actors out there and both Jewish and pro-Palestine groups I fear have gotten in bed with some really sketchy people because they’re saying what they want to hear. “I hate terrorism and especially Arab terrorism!!!” Is something conservative white nationalists have been saying for years and it’s best if Jews don’t get in bed with those who want to claim everyone is supporting Hamas! Likewise, the idea of “Zionists” and “the Zionist occupied government” or “evil Zionist pigs” has been used by the kkk and other explicitly white supremacist groups for years, and it’s for the fucking best if people don’t deny what actual white nationalists are saying, and don’t decide that everyoneeee calling for the death of the Zionist scourge is their friends.