#i'm not doing anything/planning to do anything to myself dw

[theladygazingatemptiness]

q.... how does one go about informing/reaching out to people about having suicidal thoughts

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ yeah, okay. maybe you're sad.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm, mommy issues (dw there's A LOT of fluff and cuddles and hugging and it all ends up alright) this is just talked about but it can still be triggering!!!!! pls take care of yourselves!!!!!!!! my dms are open :)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ wasn't planning on posting this but i love validation. also, this is not like cannon ellie i guess?? i did a really bad characterization bc i used this as a vent and i just wanted comfort lmao. hope this still makes y'all feel seen or fucking something. btw this first part is really boring hehe, i wrote this when i was in a rush and in a train and i was tired and sad so i don't mind if it flops lol

i hate this so much idk why i'm posting this as my first pots. aghh. here u go ig. don't hate on me. bye.

(not proofread, sorry abt that)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

you look so out of it

pull it together

we can love you

forever and ever

I've recently moved in with Ellie after weeks of looking for someone to move in.

I had checked other apartments, but this was the one that didn't smell like there was a corpse under my feet, hidden from the light beneath the floor and it didn't look like it was haunted by ghosts. The walls weren't chipping away, also, so that was a plus. There's no denying that getting used to living with someone else was difficult, but it was the only alternative to live away from my parents. Not to mention I had developed feelings for Ellie—she's beautiful, with those eyes and auburn hair, and her tattoos just make her look fucking badass.

After a few weeks, I settled in with her: we both have a routine, and established unspoken rules, and now it's comfortable living with her.

Tonight was a lovely night—I had already finished everything I had to do, and I didn't have an exam until next week, probably—until I got a call from my mother. I know I can't run away from this one. She always threatens to unroll me from college and take me home when I don't answer her calls. And I know she's capable of doing so.

“Hello?” I said as I went out to the kitchen, to take a glass of water.

“You know, most people say something sweet when they answer their mother.”

I roll my eyes, even if she can't see me. It was just a fucking hello.

“What happened, Mom?” I ask, not wanting to fight.

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

“Resources about what?”

“Therapy. Conversion therapy.”

It takes all of myself not to gasp, or cry. I don't know. I hear Ellie going out of her room, and walking towards the kitchen. I don't care if she's here; I haven't been caring about anything these past few days.

“Okay,” Is all you say. I don't know how to answer, or what to do. I leave the glass on the aisle with trembling hands.

“That's all you have to say?”

“I—I don't know what you want me to say.”

“‘Thank you’, maybe?” I stay quiet, I don't want to thank her, I don't want her to speak to me ever again. “You could also get therapy for, you know…”

“For what, mother?”

“The cutting. Your scars—I always thought they looked repulsive. No one is going to lov—”

I hung up before she could say anything else. I hate her. I hate my mother. I can't even believe she's a mother, let alone mine. I suddenly feel the need to hurt, and I hate to admit it, but my mother has always been right about the way they look—so I just shut my eyes and try to breathe. It always helps—deep breathing, that is. I have to remind myself that I'm clean. I've been clean for months. Maybe even a year, I lost count.

“You okay?”

Ellie's voice almost makes me flinch, already having forgotten about her. I open my eyes as she walks over to me and lays her elbows on the aisle, while I rest my back on the counter behind her.

I look at her, with a knot in my throat, “I'm fine.”

“Your mother…” She makes a pause, short enough to not make me go crazy, “Is she, like, a pain in the ass?”

I chuckle at that as I cross my arms, “Yeah.”

“If it gets too bad, you can talk to me. I don't mind. And my dad has some contacts, we can maybe scare your mother away.”

“It's okay,” I tell her with a smile. “I can manage.”

“I know,” She smiles, and I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest.

Before I say anything I regret, I go to your room with my door open—a technique I've acquired to avoid hurting myself.

I sit at my desk and look up conversion therapy first, I want to know what this is all about—I know that it's harmful to people in the community, that it leaves you screwed and fucked up. I don't like what pops up on my screen, so I close the tab and go to another one—where I search for therapy. The real one.

I went to a lot of therapy sessions, but my mother was always behind them, so I don't know if it ever was effective. I like this one a lot better. It should be helpful. It will help, I know that for a fact.

I'm having dinner with Ellie, which we normally do—today we ordered, since we were hungry and it always takes a little while to prep a meal—when I think to ask her about the topic.

“Do you know any therapy center?” I ask her. “Or the number of a therapist? Whatever.”

If she's curious, she doesn't show it. She stops chewing on her food, then looks at me; then continues to chew, and after she swallows she speaks, “Sure, I have some friends that go to the same therapist, so it's completely trustworthy, I guess. I can ask for the number.”

I wipe my mouth with the napkin on my side, “Yeah, that'd be alright.”

Ellie takes a sip from her cup and then looks at me, “You okay, though…?”

“I'm fine, just—you know, making sure everything's okay.”

She nods, “Got it—I was just asking.”

After my first therapy session, I ended up tired. My therapist—which feels weird to say out loud and even in my head—is a nice lady in her thirties who looks like a hippie.

I've realized I tend to lie a lot—I didn't talk about self-harm or my mother. Or anything else, really. Just about the movie Speak, and then almost cried when talking about the weather.

So, “Yeah, it went well,” is my answer when Ellie asks how it went, sitting in her car. She picked me up since I had taken my car to maintenance.

“Okay, then,” she says once the car engine starts. She connects her phone to Bluetooth, and we listen to music for a while. Ellie places her hand on my knee when I start bouncing my leg, which sends shivers down my spine and gives my brain something to think of that isn't any of my shit. “Do you want to go eat something?”

“Sure,” I accept. Her thumb makes little circles on my knee. I wonder if she knows what she's doing, her eyes are still fixated on the road. My heart does the flutter thing that it did a few days back again, and my core heats up.

She doesn't want you, I try to convince myself. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we ordered a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we wouldn't finish if we ate it separately.

When we arrive at the restaurant, we order a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we won't finish if we ate it separately.

“So, how's work?” I ask when we're waiting for our food.

“It's going well, I guess.”

“You guess?”

"I just hate my boss."

I furrow my eyebrows, “do you want to talk about it?”

“It's fine, he just sucks. But well, Jesse is postulating to—you know, be a boss; that fucker.”

I chuckle, “Well, I like Jesse.” I soon realize what I said, and my cheeks go red. “Not in a, uh, romantic way or anything. You know. Fuck. He's just nice.”

“Just nice?”

“I like you better than him,” I blurt out, which only adds to my embarrassment.

Oh, oh.

I like Ellie.

Fuck, yeah. You do.

Who am I kidding, I knew I did. From the start—from the first time she looked at me, for the first time touched my hand and spoke to me; for the first time she played guitar for me and made dinner because she knew how tired I was.

Ellie is flushed. I can tell.

“Oh, do you?” She asks with a grin.

The waitress comes with our food, and leaves the plate. I look at her, she looks at me at Ellie and then leaves.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lay my elbow on the table, with my chin propped up in my hand.

“What if I do?”

She bites her lip, looks at mine and then at the food, “The food's getting cold.”

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Did that actually happen, or was it my imagination? Holy shit. Shit! Fucking fuck.

It leaves me thinking, but my thoughts leave when I hear her laughter after I crack a joke.

We take the stairs up the apartment, and we laugh all the way up. We just laugh and laugh and laugh because she said something and now I'm almost falling to the floor from how much my stomach hurts.

“Stop,” I say when we get to our apartment door. I keep laughing because Ellie's laughing too and she can't open the door. “My stomach hurts.”

She looks at me and laughs. Idiot. I laugh, too.

“Hey!” We hear our neighbor say. “Quiet down!”

“We're sorry!” I exclaim back, as he closes his door.

Ellie giggles, “You're so fucking dumb, I'm not sorry at all.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“Oh, make me.”

And then—oh, god—and then, and then she looks at me as the curvature of my lips goes down, and then I kiss her.

I kissed her. I fucking did. Me, not her—not Ellie's brave and confident ass, but mine. The butterfly in my chest flutters harder when she kisses back. She puts both of her hands on my waist and deepens the kiss, while my hand moves from her cheeks to her neck, then finds its way to her torso.

Ellie manages to open the door without breaking the kiss, and then she shuts the door with her foot.

“We should—” I speak between kisses. “Ellie—couch.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.”

Our tongues fight, but our souls mend and I find my way to her in every sense. 

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

wait damn it i dont think i was anon making that request so HIYA AGAIN 💀💀 (basically this is just restating my request)

foaming at the mouth for peter quill (per usual) so this is a peter req! so maybe smthn abt reader stealing his shirt/s like hes trying to find one and hes like okay where did all my shirts go and then he sees reader all comfy in his shirt and he just MELTS 🥰

Hopefully you can do this soon, ur like famous so u have like 1000 requests LMAO have a great rest of your week/end!

-🪐

hii again🪐!! and dw you were anon for that request😭😭 this is so stinking cute! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 have a great rest of you week too<3 also wanna know something funny? I have 2 of his tshirts, he left them at mine ;)

sharing is caring

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 0.8k

warnings || none just fluff

masterlist + rules

taglist

There are many great attributes about Quill, and sometimes there are too many to list. But one thing in particular, is his style. Despite his knack for good music and food, there's just something about his clothes that often made you gawk. 

Over the years, Peter has acquired quite the collection of fun and funky t-shirts, most of them bought on various planets as souvenirs after a mission or even as little gifts from you. 

Quill has so many tops that he couldn't possibly have use for every single one, so more often than not, you'd find yourself riffling through his drawers to steal one or five of his t-shirts. His clothes always smell so comforting and homely that you couldn't stop yourself from stealing, even if you wanted to. Your favourite shirts of his are from his slightly chubbier days. They'd feel so soft and comfortable against your skin that you'd often wear them day and night. The bigger the top, the more loved it felt. But you weren't being picky because you loved literally anything he wore. He could wear a trash bag, and as long as it smelt like him, you'd wear that trash bag too.

So today, like any other day, instead of picking your clothes from your side of the closet, you scrounge over to his side, flicking through the hangers to see what you want to wear. 'Happening' upon his grey, long sleeve with white writing, you quickly remove his other t-shirt you were wearing, flinging it across the room into the dirty pile before dressing yourself. Slipping on a pair of joggers, you make your way to the living room, plopping yourself down on the sofa, and wrapping a fluffy blanket over you.

A few short minutes later, Peter is standing in the doorway with a towel draped over his lower half, tiny beads of water covering his chest. "Ahem," he says quietly, a sly smirk on his lips. "Uh- why can't I find any of my clothes?" he asks, sounding like he already knew the answer.

"Maybe they're in the dirty pile," you playfully lie with a deadpan expression, avoiding his gaze. "We haven't done any laundry in a little while. I'm sure there's stuff in there,"

"Hm, okay, right. But the thing is, I was sorta planning on wearing this one top today," sheepishly smiling, ruffling through his wet curls. "Don't suppose you've seen a grey long-sleeve?"

"Nope, haven't seen it," you coyly grin, bringing the blanket to your neck, covering the evidence.

"Yeah?" he hums, making his way over to you. "You sure you haven't seen it?" 

"Nope," you repeat, shaking your head. 

"So if I just..." he says slowly, reaching for the blanket.

You copy him, reaching for his towel, playful eyes as you threaten to tug the fabric down. He looks down at you and shrugs. Grinning. "Do it. I don't care," 

"Okay, alright, fine. I'm wearing it," you cave, ripping away the blanket. "I couldn't help it," you bribe, sweet eyes dancing up at him. 

"How long you been stealing my clothes?" he asks, his tone full of warmth, chuckling.

"Not long," you lie. "But I really can't help it, okay, Pete? It's a problem. I can't stop myself," you say playfully, brushing over your arms as if to show your comfort. "See?"

He stares down at you, his eyes full of admiration. "Yeah? That why I have no clothes left?"

"You have tonnes of clothes. You have so many you didn't even realise they were missing," you say impishly, eyebrows quirking. "They just smell like you," you shrug, a sweet smile on your lips. "You're not mad?"

Shaking his head. "Nah, they look better on you anyway," he grins. "But, have you seen that dark blue one? The one with uh-- the um, light blue circle smile face thing?"

"Maybe... sorry. I wore that the other week," you playfully frown. "But it's clean," you bribe. "I washed it right after. It should be in that pile over there," Pointing.

"Mhmm," he says with squinted eyes and a grin.

He returns half-dressed with the t-shirt in hand, swinging it as he makes his way back to you. "I wanna wear that one," pointing to you. "I wanna smell you," he says quietly, practically inaudible.

"What?" you grin, only hearing fragments. 

"I wanna smell you, now give it," he repeats loud enough for you to hear, his fingers grabbing towards you. "I’m getting cold— look my nipples could cut glass, hurry,"

"But it smells like you," 

He boyishly grins as if he's thought of an idea. He puts on the blue top, rubbing over the fabric as if to transfer his scent before removing it and handing it to you. "Better?"

Sitting up with a smile, you undress from the top, putting on the new one as Peter did the same. He plops down beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder. "You do look cute in my clothes," he grins, kissing your temple.

@annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser

[burning-academia-if]

Hello, I am mostly back and recovered at the time of writing this lol. June wasn't very productive writing wise (...for BA), which is fine because I needed that break! Look at everything I did do in June:

RELEASED CHAPTER 2 FINALLY

Spent like 2 weeks fixing bugs (dw chapter 3 I'll get beta readers so it doesn't happen again LOL)

Participated in the Raffle for Palestine + wrote and sent out the story to the winner!

Wrote about 5k words of Chapter 3

Wrote and edited Zoe's back story

Wrote most of Lars back story because I was inspired (sorry you won't get this until after Chapter 3 drops)

I'm pretty happy to have released Chapter 2! I'm gonna be honest, this felt like such a daunting release lol When I started BA, I was expecting no one to read it save for a handful of people and I'd just be chilling and writing mostly for myself like usual, so releasing it with over 1.5k followers was very daunting. With that said, I am glad people overall enjoyed the new chapter! The plan is for Chapter 3 not to take as long, but life is still hectic so we'll see. At the very least, it hopefully won't be any later then October (BA's one year anniversary month!).

I also just want to give another shout out to everyone who participated in the raffle for Palestine! Raising over two thousand euros in two weeks is still amazing to me, and I'm happy the IF community could come together like this to help out a cause! This was lowkey another thing I was nervous about since I've never really done anything that's felt like a personal commission before (asks definitely feel different lol), but other then my initial nerves the whole thing was a really nice experience!

Now, going into July, I want to focus on the UI updates I want to make. I have some things I want to shift around and change, and since coding is my biggest weakness I know it's one of those things I'm going to have to focus on. If things go well, I'm hoping to do a pure UI update by August. It'll mostly be the menu pages (achievements/stats/relationships/etc), but there are a few other things I want to add in and adjust outside of it. As for Zoe's backstory, that should be out soon, so keep an eye out of that! Finally, I also might not be too active in July. For personal reasons, July is always a hard month for me. Hopefully it isn't obvious, but just in case I'm not around as much as usual, that's why!

OH and before I forget, here's this month's chapter preview ft Angry Rook:

Lastly, I made the questionable decision to make a side IF. Updates will be very sporadic since BA is and will always be my main project until its completion. But if you want to follow it, it's To Taste Sweet Silver. An 18+ gaslamp fantasy about trying to steal the Fruit of the Old Gods in order to bring the world to an end. It's a little more niche I think, but feel free to check it out! The demo shouldn't take too long to get out since I did accidentally write most of opening already.

[captain-joongz]

Abraxas; Act 1, Chapter 2 Part 2

Pairing: mafia boss!Min Yoongi x police office!reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, humour, angst, investigation themes, dark themes, eventual smut, slowburn, some fluff

Chapter summary: As spring time comes, the police station finds itself intensely focused on several cold murder cases linked to the gangs. Amidst this chaos, it's hard to find time for anything else except for grappling with the position in the team and the burning ambition to be accepted, but something lovely might just be awaiting right behind the corner. The complicated relationship with the Min gang continues to get even more muddled.

Chapter word count: 18.3k

Warnings: discussion of crimes and murders, mentions of violence and gore (nothing too graphic, they're vaguely describing a murder scene), general anxiety? (our girl is NERVOUS in this one), Yoongi almost isn't in this chapter, start of reader x OC, gets suggestive at the end (it's not with Yoongi but he IS endgame, dw), also this chapter might be a bit slower and investigation and exposition heavy

Previous part | Series masterlist | Next part

A/N: unexpected sleepover kept me busy most of the weekend but here finally comes the second part of the chapter, i'm so excited for you to read the ending hehehe! let me know in the comments or through asks what you think, i'm curious to know your opinions! <3

The early summer heat was already hitting halfway through May, and as I sat in the station that was barely AC-ed, I suffered like a dog through the sudden and surprising rises of temperatures in between of bouts of rains.

Truthfully, looking out of the window, I wasn’t sure whether I’d rather be sitting here in a half empty dead office with barely anyone present (6 o’clock on a Friday afternoon usually not pulling much traffic around these parts) or sitting in full leather on my bike by some seedy club peeping at what Jungkook was doing this particular evening like a creep.

I wasn’t able to put much time into any extracurricular activities, the current task I’ve been made responsible of forced me to spend most of my time behind a desk, scrolling through endless police reports, paparazzi photos and news articles, taking names of cases and trying to find out what kind of people they were and who they were associated with. And after the hours and hours I’ve spent on this I was truly starting to get sick of it, almost missing the few days I spent watching a warehouse in the middle of the winter only to get trolled by Yoongi. Obviously, I wasn’t made for an office job.

With a sigh I finally gave up after trying to focus on the currently opened case on my table and dragged myself to a bistro on the corner. I’ve been drinking so much coffee these past few weeks I was on the verge of throwing up anytime I just saw a brown paper cup, but I soldiered through for the fresh batch of caffeine that would allow me to die a little slower and more painfully. And as I waited in the line, I dreaded returning to the station and continuing in what’s been my sole purpose in life for days upon days.

Still not being able to move anywhere with Jungkook kind of haunted me, it stayed at the back of my mind practically every day, just calling me to go out there and do something. But I couldn’t exactly spend the whole night chasing shadows when I had to show up to work at 7 am. Sometimes I would wonder what Yoongi thought about my sudden absence, whether he was trying to uncover some mastermind psychological warfare plan while I was really just too busy to do anything other than sit in that damn building and sleep, but admittedly it did always put a little smile on my face imagining him being silly over why I’m not following his every step like before.

Occasionally I would tag along with the team for additional interviews and questionings, stand behind Minjoon and listen and absorb their strategies. Unfortunately, all the people we talked to, all the witnesses who were mostly workers from around the warehouse, they knew very well to keep their mouth shut about anything illegal. In the end we couldn’t get more out of them than them hearing shots and calling the police. Nobody saw anything and heard nothing beyond that, as it seemed.

But we knew we were going to hit the wall here, no one in their right mind would snitch like this, especially if this truly was the Min gang. For all the neutral demeanour and suave charismatic energy, people were still terrified of Yoongi. No matter the image he had right now, no matter how much he tried to situate himself as a businessman unconcerned with the underworld, everybody still remembered how he came up, how much violence it took for him to take his place, how much blood was spilt and continued to be spilt any time someone went against him. You didn’t act up against a man like that.

And given the fact the Kims were somehow involved as well, it was double the risk. A single word could cost you your life, no matter which side the hit came from.

That only left us with carefully dissecting the lives of the victims, trying to find out how they got there and who they messed with to end up massacred on a floor of a run-down warehouse in Incheon, which was a feat in and of itself, but Minjoon and Seungcheol worked on that diligently. I sometimes met him just as he was about to leave to presumably go question someone about them, but I haven’t heard much from them yet. So lately we were all mostly stuck behind our computers.

I shook my head at nothing in particular and with one last sigh I picked myself up and went back to the station coffee in hand, resigning myself to another few hours of ruining my eyesight and back at that stupid little cramped desk. These past two weeks really made me realise just how on each other we were in that little space, and how Park sat comfortably in his office doing god knows what.

When I arrived back, I was shocked to see Minjoon suddenly back sitting by his own desk submerged deep into whatever it was he was looking at. He barely even registered my entrance, and I deliberated on going up to him or going back to my own desk to not disrupt him, but in the end decided to procrastinate just a while longer.

Minjoon looked up as soon as he heard footsteps approaching and we exchanged friendly but tired smiles while he pulled out a chair next to him for me to sit at.

“Doing overtime too, I see,” he greeted me with, eyes once again glued to the monitor. I looked over his shoulder to see him reading up on a report of a crime from two years ago. The name was very familiar to me after all these days. It was one of the guys from the warehouse.

“You going over what Park Doyun was involved in again?” I jumped straight into reading the report alongside with him. It was an armed robbery from two years ago, but due to a mess up in the prosecution they were acquitted on some obscure technicality. It was honestly a huge embarrassment, because there was some good evidence, but it all went down the drain. It was the first thing that really smacked us in the face once we put the guys through the police database, because everyone was talking about it around the precinct and Minjoon immediately made the connection.

“Yeah, supposedly there was a third accomplice, but I can’t find any mention of anyone else being involved,” Minjoon muttered somewhat dejectedly, the exhaustion showing through his expression and posture. I patted him on the shoulder, trying to bring his spirits up while I was just as sick of this as he was. He only shot me a grateful smile over his shoulder and went back into the report.

The Police Academy truly doesn’t prepare you for the hours and hours of just pure research and paperwork, what a lie.

“Is that what one of the people in the neighbourhood told you?” I queried some more, desperate to distract myself from my own tasks long enough to gain some strength to go back to it. Minjoon hummed absentmindedly, but in the end gave up as well and turned to me.

“Yeah, it was the most I could get from this one old lady sitting by a convenience store on his corner,” the detective said around a yawn, decompressing into the chair and letting the day just wash over him. It was obvious that whatever he was doing today was catching up to him, and it didn’t surprise me much given that he was gone for most of the afternoon.

“What do you got so far?” I leaned back on my chair as well and turned so that we were face to face, and we just lounged there for a moment smiling at each other cheekily, “About the whole thing.”

That got Minjoon sighing again, wiping his hand over his face. “Most is the usual stuff,” the man started, launching into another long monologue brought up by my questions, “out of the six victims, two grew up in the same neighbourhood down in Gojan-dong. You know, the same old – not the greatest families, poor backgrounds, started messing around the block and got into a lot of trouble. That’s where the reports start flying in. The other four are from around there as well, but not as close by.”

I sat on the information for a moment, as this was the first time I outright asked about the details. “So they’re all from Incheon anyway?” I ended up saying, and Minjoon only nodded.

“Two of them lived pretty close to each other, went to the same school, and they have that one record together,” he continued talking, “but you know how it gets. The people living around there only talk about how pitiful it is they fell off the good path, and if there is something more organised going on beneath, they either don’t know about it, don’t want to know about it or will never talk to a cop about it.”

“But we can be pretty sure they were already tight back then,” I hummed. Minjoon moved a little on his chair to get more comfortable. I saw his eyes jump to the time showcasing on his computer before he turned back to me and the conversation, and I was suddenly hit with the realisation that he most likely wanted to go home and I was keeping him here.

“Yeah, according to the teachers they were troublemakers and there was some violence happening on other students,” Minjoon expanded on that, “and one also mentioned a kid from a school on another block that they used to hang out with a lot that was also known for trouble, but she couldn’t remember his name. She wasn’t very surprised that they died in a gang affiliated murder though, according to her they were most probably dealing already back then between the peers.”

“That’s tough, that’s real tough. Surviving on the streets like that just gets you involved in all kinds of trouble” the empathetic words spilled from my mouth before I could really think twice about it and I panicked a little. I wasn’t sure how much the people around the unit knew about my childhood, but it definitely wasn’t something I wanted to discuss with any of them, even Minjoon. Some things were just better left in the past, especially since it’d probably make my colleagues dislike me more.

“Yeah, but the worst thing is that I just can’t get the name of that third kid,” Minjoon carried on completely submerged into his own world, “I showed her pictures of the other guys, but she didn’t recognise them. Then I was trying to choke some info from an old lady sitting by one of their addresses, but she only mentioned that there were three boys involved in that robbery but couldn’t remember the third one because he was from a nearby neighbourhood, just that these three were always together and didn’t do anything good.”

“And it’s not any of the other four guys?” I asked once more, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Minjoon shook his head and leaned back onto his chair, just watching me with tired but smiling eyes.

“But I think it’s a safe bet that these three must have stood at the beginning of everything, I just can’t get the name of the last kid,” Minjoon finished with a sigh, fingers subconsciously playing with the hem of his shirt, “I don’t know how they got into the big game or where the other dude is though.”

“Do you think there’s a possibility he escaped? That he’s alive somewhere but skipped cities or something to get away from the trouble?” I pondered out loud, as we both exchanged conspiratory glances, but Minjoon just shrugged.

“I mean, anything is possible in this game really,” the detective closed the conversation with a definitive nod of his head. I thought that was my cue to go back to my desk and let him leave, but he surprised me with turning the conversation around on me.

“What about the files? How are you doing?” he asked suddenly just as I was preparing to stand up and go. For a split second I looked at him surprised, and then relaxed into the chair again with a smile.

“Honestly, it’s such an annoying work,” I complained a little whinily, allowing myself to be a little more open with Minjoon, “I have to go through every little article, report and a picture on the internet concerning the victim. Some of them are normal working class people who worked around the docks or clubs, but some are wealthy bastards.” Minjoon chuckled at me, fingers drumming a calming beat into the table.

“Some have no ties to Yoongi at all apart from like eating at his restaurant once or staying at his hotel, but some I think are worth investigating into,” I went on, giving Minjoon the opportunity to just listen to me babble for once and not the other way around, “like some businessmen that have done deals with some of Yoongi’s shadow companies or were frequent visitors of his clubs, there was this one dude that was really closely related to some charity events Yoongi put on. I think it’s worth looking into those.”

Minjoon smiled at me brightly, his whole persona suddenly lighting up at hearing me talk about the case. He straightened up and leaned towards me, hand grabbing my shoulder in a gesture that has become very familiar to me coming from him to a point when I had to fight an embarrassed blush and a smile at the warmth and pride it filled me with.

“Good job, Y/N, good job,” he said earnestly, eyes looking straight into mine until the direct contact got a little too intense and I dodged it, “I knew I could count on you with this.” This time I really did blush, an intense feeling of vindication filling me at finally having someone recognise the work I was putting into this case. I mumbled my thanks to him, too overwhelmed to even look up, but I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder in answer before he retracted it back.

“I put them into different groups,” I jumped back into the explanation to escape the atmosphere change, “the ones that are inconclusive when it comes to gang involvement, the ones that are mostly low-tier workers around the gang affiliated hotspots and the big wigs that died under strange circumstances and most likely were closely related to Yoongi’s business in one way or the other.”

I didn’t even realise I had naturally switched into calling him Yoongi even in front of Minjoon, but thankfully he either didn’t notice or didn’t think it strange. Once I clocked it though, I promised myself to make sure to never make the same mistake in front of Hwang or Park, who I didn’t want to risk questioning me about it. Was I paranoid? Maybe, but I had a good reason for it with my track record.

“Have you looked through all of them?” came Minjoon’s question after a few moments of silence and I startled minutely before shaking my head in response.

“Not yet, I’ve got like a case and a half left,” I answered him truthfully, the distaste over having to go back to my desk and keep researching this file still rotting on my table resurfacing and souring my mood. I had managed to forget I’d still need to return to it once Minjoon left and it had me slumping into my chair.

The man must have noticed my change in mood, since he gave me a small encouraging smile and then leaned towards me somewhat conspiratorially before lightly enquiring “you wanna get out of here and grab something for dinner?”. I visibly relaxed at the offered out and nodded enthusiastically basically before he even finished speaking, making him laugh heartily.

In one swift movement he was standing on his feet offering me his hand. I took it gingerly and let him haul me up, the feelings of guilt that have been eating me away for not dedicating more of my time to the task soothed by Minjoon’s approval of ditching work.

It didn’t take us long to turn off computers and collect our belongings before we both headed out into the still incredibly hot air of the parking lot in front of the station. He must have been just as excited to leave as me, with how gingerly he led us out and towards his car, only stopping when I lightly grabbed his arm. The officer turned his whole body to me, surprise and confusion written over his face at my sheepish expression. I gestured towards the other side of the parking lot where a solitary dark car stood parked.

“I’m here by car as well, we could go to the restaurant down the street so we can both leave by car?” I suggested and Minjoon as quickly brightened up and agreed.

Thus we found ourselves sitting over our respective bowls of kimchi jjigae just a few minutes later. This was a known spot for us, as they fed most of the police force from our station with the homely family run restaurant located only three minutes by foot away from our office. When we walk in, the kind middle-aged lady running it already greets us by our names and knows our tastes by heart. It was such a nice feeling to have a place like that, I had to admit that.

We both must have been pretty hungry, because for the first half none of us even spoke, too focused on our bowls and stuffing our faces like a pair of vultures. Once the dust settled and we were handing the empty dishes back to the smiling woman, we found ourselves once again just looking at each other not knowing how to start up a conversation. After few moments of awkward silence, Minjoon decided to break the ice.

“You mentioned you sorted the cases into three groups, right?” he started off the subject of our work again, waiting for me to nod and then continuing, “Once you get through them all, you should pull out the other cases we have connected to Yoongi and look through them again with the new ones in mind. There might have been things lost or not noticed.”

The feeling of disappointment that hit me was almost palpable in the air, and I felt my expression freezing into an awkward smile trying to not let it show outwardly. I didn’t want to anger Minjoon or make him feel bad about this, and I did realise I was a total newbie to the unit and a newbie to this particular investigation, but I would lie if I said it didn’t hurt that I seemed to be eternally stuck behind the computer while the others actually did all the investigating.

Minjoon still must have felt my lack of enthusiasm, even though I tried to show my agreement as happily as I could muster, and he hit me with another sheepish apologetic smile.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the man begun, hands on instinct raising as if trying to console me, “but this could be your own thing, you know? It would be your call and your own investigation. We could also ask the violent crime team to help you out with questionings.” Now, that did sound marginally better, and I found myself swaying. I mean, I really didn’t have much choice, I would still agree even if I was truly just a glorified secretary to them, otherwise I’d be booted of the team quicker than I could say ‘fuck you’. But like this, it at least didn’t feel like a complete lost.

“So, once I went through the cases, I’d have free range and I could try to investigate and close some of them?” I made sure before I truly consented to anything, and when Minjoon nodded and agreed, I relaxed a little bit.

“Okay then,” finally I accepted, “I’ll look through the old cases too.” That seemed to make him very happy, and he made sure to smile at me brightly and shower me in gratitude and praises, but I couldn’t really help the sinking feeling at imagining myself going through more cold cases. At least there was a clear end to that in sight with these.

After that the conversation shifted slightly to lighter topics and Minjoon ended up telling me some funny stories about our colleagues’ mishaps at work. I laughed at them heartily while feeling this strange rift between us deepen even more, realising more than ever that I was truly a stranger in this unit full of people who actually somewhat liked each other.

I promised myself that this time next year, I will be sitting here with the whole unit and be a part of those fun stories as well.

Later in the evening, as we walked leisurely back to our cars after finishing up at the food joint, Minjoon suddenly seemed a little more hesitant and withdrawn. At first I saw it as a reluctance to part after a nicely spent evening, but soon I came to realise that there was something he wasn’t sure how to tell me. I could see it written all over his guilty unsure face, mouth opening for a moment without words coming out and then shutting again. I waited patiently for him to gather his courage, until the man finally broke the suddenly awkward silence.

“So, we were making some plans with the team,” Minjoon opened hesitantly and immediately I felt a shot to my heart knowing I wasn’t a part of whatever discussion they were having as a team, but I kept my mouth shut. I only hummed in response, encouraging him to go on.

“Well, next Friday we’re going to speak to Ms. Kim,” he finally got out, and I froze a little, “I just felt that a heads up was needed for that particular encounter." And I wasn’t going to lie, there was a little bit of panic that seized me at the mention of her name.

Miss Kim, alias Kim Jiyu, alias the sister of the man currently in charge of Kim Enterprises and any other business the Kim family was running legal or not, was notoriously known in both the underworld and the law enforcement sphere as a very unpleasant and harsh woman that people only ever can have the displeasure of meeting. There was a lot of stories floating around about her, and most were extremely unflattering to her character. All kinds of adjectives were attached to her, from spoiled or mean all the way to downright cruel and heartless.

The meeting with her could mean only one thing – they were trying to get the meeting with the Mr. Kim himself, but as most people, couldn’t get through his sister first, as she acted as a wall between him and the rest of the world. Unless you came with a warrant, the chances of speaking to him alone or at all were very slim, most visitors got handled by Ms. Kim before they even made it through the receptionist.

I shuddered a little bit at the thought of meeting her and doing a questioning against her and the crimes her family was involved in. Allegedly. After this thing was over, I had to go to good old Jungkook and troll him a little over parking tickets to decompress from this whole ordeal.

I turned to Minjoon, taking in his worried face, and I put on my bravest expression, nodding with a gentle smile. We didn’t really speak after that again, both of us just processing the information that was traded throughout the whole evening.

When I got home, I was so exhausted I just wanted to crash into the bed and sleep for twelve hours but sleep just wouldn’t find me until the early hours of the morning, and I found myself lying there with closed eyes, brain overheating with everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours.

I nervously shimmied around, earning another judging stare from one of the maids and a warning shake of head from Minjoon, as we waited in the entrance hall to be accepted by the lady of the house.

When Minjoon mentioned going to interview Ms. Kim, I truly didn’t even begin to imagine we would go into her house. That morning pulling up in front of a huge modern mansion and getting greeted by a chauffeur and a gardener before I even made it halfway through the gate was truly a shock. I don’t know why I was expecting maybe an office or something, given the fact it was one of the richest residential parts of Seoul, but still.

As usual, my nervousness made it that I was there first, way before Sunmi or Minjoon got there, who were the two people assigned to this task, Hwang and Seungcheol trying their luck loitering around the office building where Mr. Kim must have been. It was a tactic that was already well known to me in our unit, fighting on two fronts and then exchanging found out info. In my mind I was transported months back, to the first time I was brought along, the “first time” I officially met Yoongi in the VIP lounge in Pied Piper and how I nervously sat in front of him while he laughed at me like my presence was the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him.

The feelings of unease and queasiness that thinking of Yoongi often brought along manifested themselves and I started sweating even harder, slowly gaining Minjoon’s worry as he looked me up and down. I shook my head to him very slightly, hoping it was seen as a comforting gesture and it wouldn’t make him hover over me in an attempt to shelter me or comfort me.

The silence in the hall stretched for several additional minutes and the three of us stood there awkwardly, scrutinised by every member of staff currently on standby. I felt the scolding gazes doubly, as I didn’t make much effort on the visual front, rocking up to one of the most expensive houses in the most expensive neighbourhood in my worn washed out jeans, a simple black tee and a breezy short-sleeved shirt with an aggressive flower print, hair styled in a way that was the most practical and needed the least amount of time to achieve and a face red and sweating both from the hot temperatures and the nerves, the look finished with a pair of old sneakers basically crying for help.

I couldn’t look more out of place in the pristine light green hall with sleek furniture and floors made from massive marble tiles and I felt properly as an outsider, both from the perspective of a kid growing up in an impoverished block and as a colleague that wasn’t properly informed about the details of the visit. Even Minjoon wore a nicer pair of jeans and a shirt, which he never did, and Sunmi looked as elegant as ever in her dress pants, light blouse and beautiful wavy hair let hanging loose around her shoulders. I swallowed my bitterness and regret at not checking up on the area first and not getting the chance to also dress accordingly. And avoiding looking like a beggar accidentally let in from the streets.

My train of thought was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, the distinctive clacking of high heel shoes on the marble floors carrying to us all the way from deep inside the house, and I found myself almost letting out a breath of relief, as I would finally be able to escape this oppressive atmosphere and disappear somewhere into a corner of a room and just quietly make notes.

With each clack getting closer to us the tension in the air grew lightly, the forms of my colleagues also straightening out, hands last minute fidgeting around their clothes to gather courage and look as composed as we could. From what I understood, from the people present here only Sunmi had the pleasure of meeting our host before, and it was only twice. Not nearly enough for the initial instinctual apprehension to wear off. Therefore we were all probably experiencing similar levels of unease. Most probably. Hard to say, I was pretty strung up.

Finally, the form of a woman rounded the corner and materialised at the other end of a very long corridor, slowly inching towards us with the elegance and prowess of a hungry lion, her form slightly shimmering. At first I thought my eyes were watering or I was straight up hallucinating, but as she came closer I realised it was because she wore a silvery dress that reflected every light and surface around her.

She was taller than me, quite a bit (not a big feat honestly, I barely grew out of looking like an 8th grader) with a small, graceful face, each inch perfect and carefully maintained. Both her make-up and dress looked very sophisticated, showing clearly that she was a member of the higher class, with her beautiful dark hair pulled into a tight intricate bun at the back of her head. She was absolutely stunning and, to be honest, for a moment I got a little starstruck. It felt like meeting a movie star or a celebrity, she had that aura around her, and for a few seconds I completely forgot why we were there and almost started asking for an autograph and a detailed explanation of her beauty routine.

That all shattered the moment she finally reached us though, as her impassive face suddenly broke into a cruel smirk, venom taking over her dark eyes and she scoffed, looking us over like we were pests about to be exterminated. Before even giving us a chance to introduce ourselves, or really say anything, her focus shifted to Sunmi, gaze burning her down intensely.

“I thought we were over this, detective,” she said in a strong voice, sounding just as annoyed as mean, “There’s no need for you to come over and ask your silly little questions. I told you everything you need to know.” I saw the moment Sunmi steeled herself, eyes hardening, readying to play her part of an unshakable detective. And damn, did she do a great job.

“Please Ms. Kim,” she retorted, her body relaxing a little as she adopted a posture to counter the other woman’s stiff elegant figure, “You know I’ll never have enough of asking you silly questions. Just let us bother you for fifteen minutes and then we don’t have to see each other again for a few months.” There was a little impish grin tugging on her lips and I could notice our hostess was starting to get a little bothered by that, her annoyance slowly running through the roof. I watched on with bated breath, both me and Minjoon just hanging back quietly, taken aback by the sudden change in the air.

Ms. Kim’s face turned into a bitter grimace, the disgust obvious in the downturn of her mouth as she stepped aside and gestured down the long hallway she herself came from.

“Fine, you got fifteen minutes, after that I’m not entertaining any other visits unless you have an arrest warrant,” she bit out almost in a bark, before she turned around without waiting and stomped her way back inside the house. We all scrambled to follow her, suddenly thrust into action after just weirdly hanging about for such a long time. Sunmi took the lead, confidently striding after her, but as she passed me I could hear her releasing a huge puff of air as she steadied herself to carry on.

I gazed after her, taking in her stoney face and confident posture, my respect towards the female detective immediately skyrocketing. If Minjoon told me I was looking at her with hearts in my eyes, I would totally believe him. I liked to pretend I looked similar while dealing with Yoongi, but Sunmi clearly perfected the pest bratty power play that just drove these types up the wall, and I hoped I would be able to learn from her before we all had to go our separate ways again. I’m sure the Min gang would infinitely appreciate it. Especially the maknae.

Miss Kim led us only halfway through the corridor before she disappeared into a room on the right, and like ducklings we all followed inside. Minjoon came through last, but immediately went for the chairs, so I took it upon myself to close the door. When I turned, I was the last one to take the room in. It was quite a standard home office space, with a dark desk dominating the space, some shelves with books and decorations, and of course, the two chairs waiting for visitors to be scrutinised from the high table.

Not wanting to pull much attention to myself, I quickly hurried into the left corner where a lone small armchair stood, sitting myself there. I was already pretty much invisible to them as they sized each other up.

Just as before, Miss Kim didn’t seem overly interested in getting our names, getting straight to business without any preamble.

“I cannot imagine what else you’d like to hear from me, Miss Lee,” her piercing voice sounded through the room, taking on a slight whining voice. I jerked slightly in my chair, head immediately flying up to look at the woman before I realised that me and Sunmi shared a surname and she was talking to her, not me. The relief that flooded me at not having to face her yet was quite mortifying, so I just focused on fiddling with my notepad and pen, waiting for something worthy of being written down.

“A multiple homicide took place on your front lawn, of course we’d be interested in getting your perspective as much as we can,” Sunmi replied to her matter-of-factly, holding her own in the intense power battle that was currently taking place between their gazes.

“On my front lawn? That’s news to me,” Miss Kim leaned back into her chair, throwing her arms into the air, “That’s not our warehouse. The Kim Enterprises don’t own it.”

“Cut the shit, that’s your turf. You want to tell me that someone was murdered on your turf, and you don’t have even the slightest idea? Not even if Mins were involved?” Sunmi snapped back immediately and even I was surprised for a split second before I schooled my expression and watched the two of them attentively.

Miss Kim seemed hardly surprised, she didn’t even blink at Sunmi’s approach, just sat there and stared at her blankly with not even a single hair out of place. Then she smirked lightly, fingers drumming a quick rhythm into the desk.

“I have no idea what Mr. Min is doing, but I can assure you he’s doing it far away from me,” she said diplomatically, “We’re not exactly the bestest of friends.” There was a tense venomous smile on her face and I fought back the scoff. That was some understatement. But she was really good at acting as if her whole clan didn’t almost lose their lives to Yoongi’s six after actively trying to sabotage him several times.

But guess they must have gotten a little mercy from him since most of the conflicts happened while the old Kim, her father, was still in power. Since he has died and his son took over, the relationship between the two powerhouses was still considerably strained, but also much calmer.

There was a moment of silence, Minjoon quietly looing to Sunmi whether she wanted to keep going and when she didn’t stop him, he cleared his throat and turned his full attention to the woman behind the desk.

“It might not be your warehouse, but we know the area is pretty much under your rule,” he said seemingly amicably, a stark difference to Sunmi’s irate approach, “We don’t care about any other stuff that’s happening there. We don’t care about drugs or smuggling right now, this is a murder case.”

To that the woman smirked and rolled her eyes. “So what? If I give you information, you’ll overlook anything else that might be going on? You want me to be a snitch?” she drawled out, clearly mocking us all, then threw her hands out into the air, “Not my warehouse, not my problem. Why would I know what’s going on in a house that doesn’t belong to me?” The answer was pretty clear, to be honest. Even as someone from a rival gang, if she knew something she wouldn’t cooperate with the police. The retaliation would be merciless if Yoongi found out. And he always did.

“Anything you say will be recorded as an anonymous tip, it will only push us in the right direction,” Minjoon told her, in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, but his voice was too hard and matter-of-fact to be friendly. The elegantly dressed woman’s eyes jumped from the two with a slyness that left a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. In that moment she looked more like a viper about to strike than an heiress to a huge successful family. An ugly smirk curled around her lips and her face took on a certain savageness, suddenly she looked nothing like the graceful lady that greeted us in the foyer.

“Well, detective,” she started in another drawl, now her voice pitching more towards an almost playful hostility, like she was trying to make herself seem less lethal than she truly was, “all I can say is that they were drug dealers. Which is something you already know. So you probably have to ask… why did they lose their lives because of it? Hmmmm, I wonder… wonder who and where does drug deals that has the reputation of killing anyone that just looks at him bad…” She ended that whole spiel with a sharp grin, and promptly stood up and in a grand gesture flicked her wrist towards the door.

“I didn’t really expect that I would have to do the police’s job for them, should have fucking gone to the academy,” she hissed out in a snarl, “Now get the fuck out of my house and don’t bother me again about bullshit that doesn’t concern me.”

The two detectives didn’t seem to be bothered by her words or sudden turn in mood at all, instead they both stood up almost coordinated and without a single word or a glance back turned to leave the room. I scrambled to follow them, the whole thing replaying in my mind as I absent mindedly smacked about the door to catch the handle. The split second I turned to see where it was, I caught Miss Kim’s eye for the first time that evening. Hers were sharp, face a hard grimace of uncaringness and cruelty. She smirked at me in a mocking way, like she would at an insect right before she crushed in under her heel, her pride and ego clearly displayed like trophies in her arrogant stance and upturned head. I shuddered lightly and decided to leave the door be, breaking into a light jog to catch up to my colleagues much to judging looks of the servants. I didn’t care much, I just wanted to be out of there.

Once back on the street, a weighted silence stretched between us as we marinated on what we were told. Really, these interviews always felt so short and so little information would come from them, and then you’d look at the clock and find out it’s been thirty or forty minutes spend just turning in circles. This was one of them.

“Of course we know the drug deal is an important aspect of the case,” Minjoon suddenly bit out, peeved as the last comment clearly got him, “A group of drug dealers doesn’t just get murdered by accident. But Yoongi is self-sufficient, he has ties across the sea to Japan, he doesn’t do deals with small in-Seoul gangs.” We both looked at him, trying to ignore his petulant outburst, trying to be empathising because all of our emotions ran a little wild at the moment. I looked to Sunmi, studying her calm face that was in contrast to her hand tapping her thigh in a quick rhythm, her mind working fast to slot everything together and re-evaluate what we found out till now.

“Well, then the reason must be there,” I voiced out unsurely, getting nervous when their gazes turned to me, “If what she’s insinuating is that they were doing a deal with Yoongi and got killed, then we gotta find out why. If he normally doesn’t do that, then why now?” Sunmi nodded at my words, eyes squinted both against the sun and in thought, mulling over it.

“Yeah, that’s really the only way I see here too,” she stated finally, voice carrying strong, “We were working with theories that they maybe provoked him or split from him and stole some of his cargo, maybe tried to push his turf somewhere, the usual reasons for this brutal of a punishment, but maybe we should explore the option that they were actually partners. Maybe they scammed him with goods, that could get you murdered in this business.”

I pursed my lips tightly, keeping a neutral face to reign in my surprise, as most of those things she said were total news to me. I had known they were looking into their past and that they were drug dealers, that they missed one guy and maybe he got away. Nothing of what she said actually made it to me, and I had to stand there and pretend like I knew what she was talking about. I mean, I wasn’t dumb, these were the usual reasons for murder between gangs, but it would have been nice if someone actually told me we were looking into these options.

I swallowed my bitterness down and kept my eyes trained on Sunmi, nodding along. I didn’t want my negative experience with my team and unit to tamper down the respect that was quickly growing in me towards her, the detective has in the short period of time I’ve known her become something of a model for me, and I knew that it wasn’t her responsibility to keep me updated since she was from a different unit. No, this transgression was on the side of my own colleagues, so I stubbornly kept my eyes from straying towards the officer in question, who was nervously shuffling next to her.

I let out a tired sigh, the disappointment was so constant with them that I barely even found it in me to be properly annoyed, just felt resignation bleed into me slowly. I knew that I would most likely just keep getting fucked over like this, but still, I stubbornly and selfishly wasn’t prepared to give up just yet, and it hurt. But really, what other option did I have.

“We should get back to the station,” I piped in, cutting short the conversation that started up between them while I was spacing out, and I felt Minjoon’s guilty gaze on me, “Get the info to the others and re-evaluate.” Sunmi once again nodded, patting my shoulder and giving me a friendly smile.

“You’re here by car, right? We could definitely squeeze you in if you need a ride,” she offered easily, and I found myself genuinely smiling back. I thanked her and pointed towards my own vehicle, and she patted my shoulder some more, a little more awkwardly, and made her way to her own. Minjoon lingered behind a little, but whatever he wanted to tell me, we didn’t have time for it anyway, so I shot him a polite smile and went my way too.

The day went by surprisingly fast, considering I didn’t speak much for the rest of it, the earlier realisation weighing heavy on me. The briefing was pretty short, with mostly Sunmi making sure the other two detectives were caught up. They split their duties quickly too. Minjoon and Seungcheol were supposed to keep looking into the mysterious third accomplice while Sunmi and Hwang would start looking more sharply into their mob ties, hoping to somehow trace them to Yoongi if they scrutinised them hard enough. I sat there and watched them awkwardly, until Minjoon turned to me and somewhat sheepishly asked whether I wanted to share my findings. So I did.

I recapped to them everything I said to Minjoon a few days earlier before he stepped in and informed the others I agreed to go through the older cases as well and would try to build a new bigger case. I gulped down my own simmering anger, that was admittedly dwindling down with every hit I took from them, and smiled, nodded, agreed. Minjoon kept glancing towards me as if he wanted to say something more, but I ignored it for the moment. Now was not the time. He asked the other team if they would volunteer to have someone tag along with me. Seungcheol agreed. I shook his hand and thanked him. In my head I clung to the promise Minjoon made me, that this would be my own big case, and kept myself in check.

By the evening, I was finally wrapping up with the original task, a huge boulder falling off of my shoulders and then promptly building back up when I curiously checked how many files I would have to pull up come Monday. It was a lot. I did catch myself just sitting at my tiny desk kneading my face in my hands, smushing my features all together and then pulling them again, as my eyes focused and unfocused on the computer screen.

And that’s how Minjoon found me too. He walked up to me quietly, and at first I didn’t even notice him through the existential crisis I was going through, but soon his hip moved into my field of vision and I jerked back, embarrassed at my antics. Minjoon still looked just as apologetic as that morning, and I couldn’t even be annoyed with him after the day I had.

“Dinner?” he asked quietly, unsure of whether I would want to go with him or not. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but instead I just nodded tiredly, pushing the files under the desk and turning off the computer. I was done, done for the day and done with working on this, so I just wordlessly stood up and glanced around. Just like last week we were the last ones around, even Park already long gone from his office where he basically camped out.

Minjoon waited for me patiently, as I gathered my belongings and then just walked out without looking back. We ended up at the same restaurant, ordering the same thing, the lady behind the counter giving us winks and mischievous smiles while I tried my hardest to push the flustered part of myself as deep as possible. That was the last thing I needed, really.

Minjoon launched into his apology as soon as we sat down, stating how tired and overworked he was and pleaded for me to forgive him just this once for forgetting to forward the information to me. How it just slipped his mind and how Hwang just plainly refused to have to keep running to me with every new little thing and always left it to him and he was just so busy. I sat there staring blankly, not even really in the mood to pretend it was fine like I usually would for the man, and he stewed under my intense gaze, stuttering to find a way to make it up to me.

I wanted to be spiteful, wanted to tell him just how tired I was as well, how if they even invited me to these meetings in the first place, we wouldn’t have this problem, but failed to find the reason why I should bother.

“Then how about this? I have an offer to make,” Minjoon said suddenly after a few minutes of awkward small talk, a mischievous smile slowly stretching on his face. I perked up at the sudden change in mood and curiously nodded at him to continue. “I always have the time to tell you everything when we eat here and I can relax at the same time, so it’s pretty obvious you should keep coming to these dinners with me. Just for the work’s sake of course,” the man suggested slyly, eyes colouring with mirth and something else, something a little darker and sweeter. That insufferable flirt.

That time I did blush full force as soon as the meaning of those words hit me, ducking my head shyly as the negative emotions dissolved confusedly into something a little more excited and jittery deep inside my chest, the anger forgotten under the sudden attention. I found myself nodding and Minjoon rewarded me with such a blinding smile it made everything worth it, all the work and the bitterness long pushed from my mind.

That evening, there was plenty more conversation, none of it about murders or crime which was a refreshing change for both of us, and we both seized the opportunity to actually mention anything that didn’t have any tie to Yoongi, who seemed to have become a constant in my life. For a first time in a really long time I laughed freely with another person, nothing holding me back from the amusement and nothing weighing heavy on my mind.

When I made my way home that evening, the hopeful joy making itself known in my heart seemingly erased all the negativity of the day, of the week, of the month. The only thought that fought its way through was the flash of Yoongi in my mind as I passed the street that would eventually lead me to Pied Piper.

I turned my head straight and drove on.

The days quickly bled into weeks, into a month, until I was sweating my ass off in the office towards the end of May, the sudden heatwave hitting right after a week of storms and rains. The heat always seemed to get even more exaggerated inside the building, something about it just had to be cursed. And with how old and rundown the station really was, hoping for a working AC soon turned into a fruitless endeavour.

I spent the month the same way I spent the month before that, buried neck deep in old cold cases that never saw enough evidence or attention, cross-referencing every little thing down to wearing the same-coloured socks. Similarities started quickly adding up, and by the time I opened the 20th case I could confidently say whether it was truly a Min murder or not. I even had bets going on which one were Jungkook’s and which ones were Hoseok’s. There were even few that I suspected belonged to the Kims, but it wasn’t a theory I felt was strong enough to actually present to others. I had become something of an expert on violence.

Truly, throughout the cases, there were few names that kept repeating – names of companies that could be traced back to Yoongi’s umbrella corporation, names of middlemen that were known to hang about him, names from other cases. They all tied together a nice picture of shady business and in the middle of it all sat Yoongi, like the devil himself.

I was able to painstakingly trace some of the new cases to the older ones, fully incorporating them into the agenda after confirming truly that they were most likely victims of bad deals and finicky power dynamics. Then came the gut punch – the man that was linked to most of those cases, Moon Jiwoo, the middleman whose sole occupation seemed to be to link up wealthy influential men with Yoongi, has gone and turned into a cold case himself. This time a missing person.

Damn you, Jung Hoseok, ruining all my fun.

But obviously this was something worth looking into, given the fact that he was “taken care of” as well. So I started rearranging the files into different groups and sub-groups once again, making a pile that was directly connected to Moon Jiwoo, then a pile of cases that was linked to the victims in the first pile and then seemingly unconnected cases that were still most probably carried out by the Min gang. Thus I ended up with thirteen cases – seven that were connected to the middleman, the middleman case itself and five that had a link to the main seven. Ten more cases sat on the side, for now looking rather random, but maybe I would come to find out that they fell into the intricate web of murders I was currently looking at.

These lucky thirteen mostly had quite peculiar history of travelling between units until they ended up here. Some started off as missing persons cases until a body was found, death undetermined or suspicious enough to have the violent crimes look it over, some were first classified as an accident until someone from ours found it and pulled it over to organised crime. There were two cases that made it straight to us as soon as they were reported – the missing Moon Jiwoo, a known associate, and a dock worker that was employed by an affiliated company. Unfortunately, it was much easier to make a poor man working in the docks disappear than a filthy rich magnate, so those few cases that made it to us were mostly thin and under-investigated.

Stepping into this task, I have to admit that at first I was quite surprised that someone as infamously known for being a dangerous silent killer that almost never leaves any evidence as Hoseok had left this many cases for us to look into, but once I started properly going through them I realised that there was a stone wall at every turn and most of these cases went completely cold only a few weeks after happening. And considering it was a pure stroke of luck that even brought them to us, the chance that they would have been eventually completely forgotten was extremely high. I had to give it to him, he was extremely efficient, enough to make me progressively more annoyed every time I hit a dead end, cursing him in my mind four times a day. And I shuddered to think about the number of cases that never made it to us or that didn’t even get reported.

But now at least I had a firm idea of what would have to be investigated more thoroughly and which avenues I would look into. You bet that I was gathering those thirteen files to bring them home and put them on the map wall, silently sighing at the image of the macabre décor in my own bedroom. It was truly unfortunate it was the best room for it in my tiny tiny apartment, but sadly I was getting used to it by now. So much for calming relaxing mornings.

A cup of coffee landed on my desk and I jumped in fright, realising I had been just emptily staring at my computer screen as I went over everything I would have to do at home during the weekend and my plan starting Monday. I looked up with cheeks coloured by embarrassment, catching Cheol’s amused expression before he tipped an imaginary hat in my direction.

“Howdy, partner,” he drawled out and took a sip of his own coffee, leaning back onto a neighbouring desk and making himself as comfortable as he possibly could with the sharp edge digging into him. I chuckled at him and tipped my head in return.

“Howdy,” slipped out of my mouth easily, “thanks for the coffee.” He only smiled as a response and then nodded towards the computer and the mess of files everywhere.

“How’s it looking?” the detective asked. I sent him a faux annoyed looked, but there was a smile tugging on my lips. In the past few weeks Cheol made it his mission to check up on me regularly. He’d usually come with a cup of either coffee or tea and start asking about my progress. Since he had volunteered to be my partner in this, I understood his reasoning, but the first few times I found myself quite annoyed by his incessant questioning. Until I realised he was doing it on purpose and was just pulling my leg. After that I was able to relax and see the interaction for what it really was – an attempt to build some comradery, not an effort to press and humiliate me.

I found out he was actually pretty easy-going, he had a sense of stability and strength around him and yet still managed to be an absolute goofball, which helped me feel less nervous and I even started catching onto some of his jokes. I liked hanging out with him and I already trusted him as a teammate despite the fact that we hadn’t even gone out to the field together.

“Same as yesterday,” I told him finally, pretending to be annoyed with him, “Monday big briefing, then we can kick off.” My voice turned serious in the second half, conveying that it truly was an information he needed to keep in mind.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” he responded to just as seriously, only a small smile on his face as I nodded at him and then gestured to the mountains of files. “In the meantime I’ll have fun organising this for you, so you better not be ungrateful,” I joked right back at him, “I am not above abusing my power.” That got an amused chuckle out of him.

“Sure thing, rookie,” his voice turned slightly jokingly exaggerated, but I heard the genuineness in it, which pulled an honest grin out of me, “we’ll see about that on Monday.” With that he pushed himself off the table and started walking off somewhere, only waving around the cup in lieu of a goodbye.

On his way out, presumably back to his own unit, he passed Minjoon’s table, and I caught the man’s eye as I watched Cheol dramatically take his leave. Immediately I felt a blush spreading and I ducked my head back between the files quickly. There was a slight grin on his face witnessing my reaction, and I chastised myself to behave while at work. We weren’t highschoolers anymore and I could get in serious trouble sending puppy eyes to my colleague. If somebody caught wind of that, they’d disrespect me even more, it would become absolute hell here and I couldn’t afford to make the atmosphere even more hostile when I was barely making it now.

True to his word, Minjoon took me to the little restaurant by the office once or twice a week to eat and gave me the whole rundown of the other team’s plans and findings to keep me updated on everything going on. He would relay everything to me with care, making sure I wasn’t left out and that he wouldn’t have to awkwardly fill me in under Hwang’s hateful eyes. But we would always end up talking about everything and anything, and soon I started anticipating our dinners not because of the information, but because as soon as that was told, we would start chatting and laughing.

One moment I’d be asking about the next step against Yoongi and the next we were trading stories about the most embarrassing things we’ve done in high school or our favourite childhood spots to play in. Minjoon talked a lot about his family, about his older brothers and parents, and while I tried to avoid that topic as much as possible, I ended up also sharing some childhood stories without many details.

Honestly, those evenings became my favourite moments. The weeks and the work were both so hectic lately and I found myself swamped with cases, searching for the tiniest details, and more often than not I was going home totally exhausted with red raw eyes and a migraine that just wouldn’t leave no matter what I did. I almost perfected sleeping in a way that didn’t aggravate my headache to a point I almost threw up (I did throw up once, after I came home and almost passed out not realising I didn’t really eat anything the whole day).

The moments I spent with Minjoon were a beautiful escape, a few hours a week I forgot completely about my responsibilities and didn’t care about murders and gang activity, and only sat back and traded jokes and bashful flirts. We both have long since stopped pretending we weren’t interested in each other, and it made those encounters even more exhilarating as we danced around the attraction with careful teasing smiles and soft flirting. I was still very much nervous about the unit catching on and realising what’s going on, but Minjoon’s warm presence in my life slowly erased those fears and made me more open to the possibility. The last few meetings toed the line of propriety with more ways than one, flirtation straying further than before and Minjoon’s insistence he drives me home leaving us in a few tense charged moments by my door.

It was exciting and terrifying, but I liked the officer. He’d been the only one that went out of his way to actually accept me and treat me as a human, he helped me and pushed me through to give me opportunities to prove myself to others and he continuously cared about my well-being. I liked spending my evenings with him, he was charming and kind and we both seemed very compatible.

The only problem that stood between us and made us both hesitant to cross a line further than friendly dinners was the fact that we were not only coworkers, but team members. That left us awkwardly trying to navigate the sudden tension that arose between us without giving away how close we were getting. Honestly, every day I was nervous that Sunmi or Seungcheol would look at us and see, like it was written all over my face that I was starting to like Minjoon from a wholly unprofessional standpoint.

It was like there was a huge ticking clock hanging over my head just waiting for a disaster to happen, but it didn’t stop me from looking forward to the Friday evening every week. And Minjoon seemed to be in the same boat. But as long as we didn’t cross over to uncharted territory, we were fine.

Thus, we both just sat there in the office and exchanged timid grins, making sure no one saw us making eye contact, like we were two criminals fleeing from the law.

I tried to focus back onto my monitor, but I was absolutely fried. It was still noon, but the whole weight of the last two months just hit me and I was fighting to stay awake, knowing I was done with one of the most annoying boring tasks I’ve ever had to deal with and that from Monday I’ll be even more busy.

There was both panic and excitement coursing through me at what was waiting for me, all the possibilities from actually doing some real investigating and solving cold cases to finally having the chance to put my energy into something productive and not only sneak around Seoul at the ass crack of dawn hoping to catch a sight of a serial killer working for the most annoying man in the existence.

Finally I’d have a chance. And that was just as scary. It felt like I had twice as much to lose, given the fact I was barely tolerated now. I had everything to gain, but everything to lose. If I failed this, if I messed up or got us into trouble, it’d be the end of me on this precinct. Not successfully closing at least one of these cases wasn’t an option, I had to yield results.

For the nth time that day I tried blinking away the tiredness from my eyes and the early onset of another migraine, but as soon as it started being hard to focus through the pain, I decided it was time to give up on trying to achieve anything today.

Already having great experience with gathering my things to leave as fast as possible, I was ready to leave within five minutes of deciding to go home, the relief coursing through my veins like ice cream on a hot day. And it was a very hot today.

Still, I stopped by Minjoon’s desk, surprising him for a moment before he gave a confused smile, the question marks reflected in his eyes without him even having to ask anything. I grinned at him wildly, no doubt looking slightly insane from this angle of him looking up at me.

“You said that you haven’t questioned Yoongi yet, right?” I enquired out of nowhere, confusing him even more as he fully turned to me, and I could see him trying to figure me out. Then he slowly nodded.

“Yeah,” he drawled out, “we decided to go into offensive and start pushing him, so we’ll start questionings in the following weeks.” I nodded quickly, shooting him a rushed smile before I made my way out into the hot noon air and blasting sun, leaving supremely more confused Minjoon behind, not even giving him a chance to really say goodbye.

There’s been a thought playing around in my mind for a few days now. Was it finally time to go see Yoongi again? Now seemed to be the best time to make my grand return, remind them of my existence and cut the suspense. The team was already planning to go talk to him anyway, come June they’ll be hot on his tail, back to their strategy of annoying him. It would be kind of a sweet little treat to find out how much he knows, whether it already made it back to him and he was onto us or whether he was still blissfully unaware of what we were investigating. I was slightly embarrassed by the amount of excitement that flowed through me at the prospect of teasing the man again, of hearing his remarks, now that I fully had a leg up (though the last time I thought that it went spectacularly wrong).

I wanted to try to throw him off his high horse. To unnerve him, in the same way he always did to me. To return the favour of always finding a way to get under my skin and make me mad. I wanted that. I wanted him to know that I would be getting him behind those bars, just as I promised two months ago in The Rose.

Waiting until the evening seemed almost impossible, not even my own exhaustion that tried to lure me into hours long nap could distract me from the slowly ticking clock, and I was restless the whole day. Sitting around, staring off into space, always wanting to pick something up, some chore or an easy task, but unable to focus on anything except for whether it would be better to catch him still in the office or make a grand entrance to the Pied Piper, where he should be today.

And pulling up to said club twenty minutes after 7pm, I did pray that he was there, as I immediately recognised those same bouncers and desperately wished there wouldn’t be a repeat of that whole situation. Though, if I did manage to cockblock Yoongi twice, that would definitely put a smile on my face, that’s how petty we were getting here.

But that hardly mattered, not when I walked up to them and before I could even get a single word out of me, a mean glint present in my eyes to let them know I remembered them and I wasn’t amused by whatever bullshit they would try to pull, they were already opening the doors to me and gesturing for me to enter with smug smirks. My whole actor bit got thrown off and I stared at them shocked for a moment, before I hurried to scramble inside much to the distaste and grumbling of people waiting in the line right behind me. There was some disgruntled shouting, a warning growl and then the door fell shut and I was left in the dark hallway leading deeper into the heart of the club. That was entirely too easy.

From here, I could only sense the loud drums pulsing through the walls, their faint echo thrumming through my very bones, as I mechanically forced a foot in front of the other, pushing myself back into my carefree smug attitude. Stop being stupid, I thought to myself, something like this can’t throw you off. But it did mean that Yoongi was already no doubt alerted to my presence, sitting like a king in that red balcony waiting for me to get there.

Well, I couldn’t let him wait for long, could I? We had a game to play.

Somewhat nervously I shuffled with my clothes, choosing to show up in a little bit more club appropriate attire so I could sell my arrogance and triumph, and flaunt it properly in their face. I had to appear strong, this was a crucial moment between us and I couldn’t fumble here. Though, deep down I felt like this evening, just like all of my other encounters with the man, would inevitably end in disaster. Still, I made sure my skirt and crop top were in place, short heels properly strapped and hair and earrings where I wanted them to be, hoping my makeup still looked as okay as it did when I left my apartment.

This afternoon, as I desperately tried to come up with some sort of a plan, I had realised everyone around Yoongi always walked around in pristine high-end clothes, while I ended up running after them dressed in rags, basically. The encounter with Miss Kim only strengthened this idea within me. I had to step up my game. I had to learn how to play by their rules just enough to get away with it. So, I made sure to dress up a little. Only a tiny bit.

With a deep stabilising inhale and exhale, I set out down the hallway and down the stairs into the main room. I ignored the bar that opened up to my right and went straight for the VIP section entrance. I was anticipating to run into a little more trouble here, as I made my way towards the two unsmiling bouncers all jittery and trying to look more confident than I’ve ever been in my entire life; but upon seeing me, they just stepped to the side, unhooked the red rope and waited for me to walk through.

I did, though my nerves grew with every step I took up those stairs, knees and hands slightly shaking, and I clutched my little handbag until I risked damaging it. The upper floor, the VIP section, was just as intimate and infinitely more pleasant than the downstairs as the last time I was here, and my eyes quickly scanned through the seated guests, trying to make out whether there was someone I recognised, but it was too dark. I caught the barman’s eye and he winked at me cheekily, gesturing at an alcohol bottle he was just fiddling with, attempting to lure me in to buy a drink. My returning smile was apologetic, but it did stop me, and I found myself just awkwardly standing there looking towards the wall where I knew the balcony entrance was.

Trying out the same strategy as before, I loudly inhaled and exhaled, forced my body back into working order, and started moving slowly towards them. With every step I shoved a little more false confidence and condescending attitude to prepare myself, steadily growing surer in those heels and schooling my expression.

Just like downstairs, the bouncer moved out of my way and allowed me to enter the private zone, but as I caught a glimpse of his face, I did a hasty double take. A wry grin made it onto my face, watching the man up and down.

“Good evening, Mr. Choi,” I greeted the bodyguard with a sense of mocking in my tone, a sentiment he gladly returned in his patronising little bow he did towards me, eyes fighting to not roll to the back of his head. I chuckled and moved on, finally climbing those last few stairs.

Coming face to face with the men after such a long time was truly terrifying, especially as I stood there in my ditzy little outfit in front of several of the most dangerous criminals in the city and noted the shock and interest in their eyes as they fully took me in. Several different instincts warred through me – to hide away, to run, to flounder under their attention, to throw my attitude into their face, but all I could really manage was stand there in a manner I hoped that screamed carefully constructed indifference.

Yoongi was spread out on the central sofa, just like last time, comfortably seated in a way that almost made him seem half melted into the soft furnishing, but his eyes were sharp just like his smirk, thoroughly studying me. I could already see the cogs in his head turning, realising this was a beginning of a new game, even more exciting than the last one. I fought the shudder that tried to overtake me under his heavy gaze and instead turned my attention to the sofa next to him.

There was no Jungkook today, his dark sulking mass would be hard to miss, but Taehyung was here, elegantly sitting near the corner of his settee with one arm curling around the top of it and the other gently laid on his crossed legs. Everything about him screamed how comfortable and confident he felt, all the way to the playful smirk and studious eyes. I would have to be more careful around him, he was kind of a whole lot to deal with and I had no idea whether I could take that tonight.

But I couldn’t stop the surprise from displaying clearly on my face as I clocked in the last figure in the room, sitting close next to Taehyung, full body turned to me with a wide smile that had a dangerous edge to it and strangely deep dark eyes that had my fingers trembling in a tinge of fear. It was Hoseok, dressed in a nice suit and comfortably sitting there with a glass of alcohol loosely held in his hand, swirling over his expensive shoes. He was grinning at me like we were old friends, but somehow that made me even more wary of him, an unease setting into my insides that had me reconsidering whether tonight was a good idea.

But I was already here, so. No way but forward.

Gathering my wits back I plastered a smile on my face and regarded the three men with a cheery “Gentlemen” while I made my way towards the little chair sitting straight across from Yoongi. It was my place anyway, we all knew it, he clearly had all the unwelcome guests sitting on it to make them uncomfortable and unsure of themselves, so I had to own it as effortlessly as possible.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise, officer,” Yoongi started with his smooth voice that he only used when he was being intentionally an ass, “Come here to club and destress on a tough Friday night?” His eyes flicked down to my attire and then back to me, the amusement shining through alongside another strange glint to his eyes. He was interested in what my strategy was here, inviting me to set my starting pieces.

I ignored him and turned straight to Hoseok, finding his dark unsettling eyes already on me, but I forced myself to smirk lightly. “Shocked to see you here,” I said with my full voice, a cheeky undertone to my words, “Aren’t there enemies to be murdered? Bones to be buried?” His eyes narrowed slightly, smile turning a bit sharper. I’d never really spoken to him before, and our first exchanged words were a taunt from me? It was as brilliant as it was stupid, but it did throw the man off for a few seconds, his face immediately becoming a little more closed off, the happy smile still dutifully in place.

“Everybody deserves a day off here or there,” he retorted back, drawing an amused smirk to Taehyung’s face. Yoongi was watching us closely, studying the interaction before taking the control back.

“Could I interest you in a drink?” he asked, testing the waters, sharp eyes observing me. I nodded. He smirked. “Perfect,” he hummed, “Finally truly came here on a day off?” I only chuckled in response, watching him wave to someone behind me, presumably to Soobin. I squirmed a little on the tiny seat that simply must have been designed to torture the people sitting on it, always playing a balancing game on the little square with nothing to really lean on. The dark-haired man’s eyes still followed my every movement and he suddenly gestured to the space next to him.

“Of course, if it would be more comfortable for you, you’re welcome to join us on the settee,” Yoongi drawled out with a smirk, Taehyung hungrily watching our interaction with some sort of dark amusement glinting in his eyes. It made me shudder, nerves threatening to swallow me whole under their intense scrutiny, especially since Hoseok was also present. I would have never guessed I’d meet him here, casually drinking with Yoongi. Somehow I gained the idea that he just always crawled around in the dark like some kind of a mythical creature.

I pushed all of the uncomfortableness to the edges of my consciousness and quickly straightened, moving to the sofa in a few confident strides. This suddenly put me much closer to the man than I’ve ever been before, my stomach revolting and filling with lead. I quickly clasped my hands together nonchalantly to hide the slight tremor that started up again in them.

If Yoongi was surprised by my decision, he didn’t let it show and only continued to regard me with rampant curiousness and interest. I felt like a puzzle game that he desperately tried to solve just for fun, and it was increasingly more difficult to not start tensely shifting around; my eyes flitting around the room and lungs seizing until it was hard to consistently breathe.

I figured since I sat like this with Jimin in The Rose when I went there I’d be fine now, but I should have known that Yoongi himself was a completely different ballpark. He shifted around in his seated until he was half turned to me, leisurely lounging on the red velvet with one arm rested on the top and the other playing with a glass of what I assumed was whiskey. He was a picture of aloofness and power, all painted in black and red, and his aura was slowly crushing me like I had found myself at the bottom of the ocean. All I could do was try not to flounder too much and stand firmly.

I had come here to play their little game, to shock them and throw them off, to show them that I can keep up, that I’m not just a stupid little girl that’s in over her head. I needed to be bold, to play with them the same way they play with me. So, I took a few steadying breaths and ignored the way my whole body was screaming at me to leave, instead grinning self-assuredly at the man.

The silence stretched on, the other two men present sat back and watched Yoongi with amusement and something akin to respect in their eyes as he stared me down. For few long moments no one said anything, and Yoongi’s eyes just bored straight deep into my soul, picking me apart and making me squirm uncomfortably in my seat. Unlike the first time he did this to me, I fought to keep myself defiantly staring back but I couldn’t hold the eye contact, every few seconds flitting to something else before I looked at him again, shame creeping into my features. His smile grew larger and more entertained until I couldn’t take it anymore.

Just as I started considering just turning away from him in humiliation the moment was broken by a waiter coming in to serve me a cocktail and I exhaled deeply in relief just as Yoongi chuckled and nodded at the boy. I took the drink eagerly, absolutely ecstatic that I had something to put my attention to instead of those fuckers smiling smugly right next to me. The drink was something very fruity and it tasted sweet, my features immediately perking up in delight as the taste hit my tongue.

Next to me Yoongi chuckled again, and I pointedly ignored him until he spoke. “Your eyes are so genuine,” he muttered, something warmer than just plain amusement creeping into his voice, “Everything’s so clearly written all over your face.” I froze at the tone, my mind transported back into The Rose to the respect he so clearly showed towards me, and I almost fled the club in absolute panic at the reminder of why I distanced myself in the first place.

I wasn’t the only one thrown off though, Hoseok sitting right at the corner of my vision visibly tensed at Yoongi’s words and looked at him in a way that could only be described as a warning glare. Not that the man himself paid him any mind, though I was sure he certainly knew of what Hoseok was doing right to his side.

But even when all of my alarms were going off in my mind and I was so undeniably shown just how much I was losing control of the whole situation (if I even had any from the beginning) and how I got myself into real trouble fraternising with Yoongi and going along with his stupid little whims, trying to outwit him and always managing to play right into his hands, I still stubbornly refused to stop. I still stubbornly refused to back down and admit to myself this was slowly crossing lines I couldn’t afford to cross, I still tried to force myself to believe that it would mean my defeat, my surrender. And I couldn’t surrender, that’s what he wanted. It was pedal to the metal all the way, baby.

I pulled myself back together and shot him a carefully crafted smirk in return. “Don’t try to butter me up with your words, you’re not taking me home tonight,” it took everything in me not to flush at the insinuation, and I cocked my head to the side with a cheekiness I’ve seen from him many times before to sell it properly, giving him back what he always gave me (especially in The Rose with Jimin, those bastards). But the answering grin that immediately spread over Yoongi’s face had me nervous again. He looked like he won the lottery, like I just perfectly played into his cards. The man just leisurely brought his drink to his lips, before a look crossed his eyes.

“Of course I’m not, that police officer is,” he retorted nonchalantly, one eye cheekily looking to me to gauge my reaction over the rim of his whiskey glass. I froze, some spectacular mix of emotions passing through my face, and I had no idea what kind of expression was set there, but it greatly entertained my whole audience, all three of them grinning like wolfs that just stumbled upon a little girl in the middle of the woods. My heart gave a few painful jerks, and I buried my face in the glass again, hoping to regain some composure.

“Been following me too, huh?” I shot back weakly, head still spinning from this particular information coming out his lips. God damn him, god damn them all. The man laughed at that like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course, my favourite police officer just suddenly disappeared,” he said in a mock worried voice, “I had to make sure that you were alright. What if you needed help, officer?” Now my whole body trembled as I went over my whereabouts in the past two months. How much did he know? What did he see me do? Does he know what we’re investigating? Is he aware of what we’re trying to spin him into? Did I doom this operation right from the start without even realising it?

Yoongi was blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil and happily continued yapping. “Though I must say you have a rather boring life, somehow I expected a detective’s life to be more interesting,” he mocked some more, but really I didn’t care about what he thought about my life. I needed to know how much he knew about my work.

“Must have been at least a little interesting,” I tried to spin him to talk more, forcing my hands to calmly pick at my skirt to play up my aloofness, “had you interested in why the sudden absence, did I not?” He chuckled lightly, eyes dissecting me carefully with a cheeky look.

“I’m always up to indulging you and your little games, officer,” Yoongi half whispered back to me, leaning lightly forward, “Keeps my life more interesting. At least I have something to do over my lunch break.” I regarded him, spread there on the sofa leisurely like he owned the whole city, smirking himself half to death, and I decided to take a gamble.

“Oh, I have the most interesting game prepared for you,” I whispered too, subconsciously leaning in as well to make sure he heard me, “Trust me, you’re going to love it.” From this distance and under this lighting his eyes looked absolutely consumed in darkness and even as they crinkled in amusement, there was something predatory in them, especially as his lips curled up delightedly. I couldn’t help myself but think he looked almost like a tiger spirit that just managed to catch another poor soul unawares.

But when I searched the black irises for any signs of mockery or knowing, I only found pure interest and eagerness to see how this unfolds. With careful hope I allowed myself to believe that he somehow managed to miss me going to the crime scene or to Miss Kim’s house, for a short moment thanking the unit for not taking me with them as often as it clearly prevented from spoiling Yoongi his surprise.

He probably wasn’t expecting me to push an actual investigation against him at all, and probably also wasn’t warned by the Kims that we were asking around about those warehouse murders. That’s when a true smirk unfurled on my face, all the despicable joy I felt about paying him back surfacing freely onto my face.

There was a new kind of calculation reflected in his gaze, eyes never suspicious but always storing away every little detail about our interaction.

The atmosphere between us grew tense, I almost felt the air crackling, almost tasted the electricity on my tongue. I finally leaned back away from him, mirroring his relaxed posture and took a long sip of my drink.

My eyes flitted to the two other men that have just been silently sitting to the side watching the whole interaction, and suddenly I flushed realising they witnessed my shameless taunting of their boss. Hoping the light would hide any unusual colour on my face, I rather focused on deciphering their expressions.

Taehyung was watching me like a new toy that he couldn’t wait to figure out, like a game that he’s been dying to play and find out how the story ends. It made me shift uncomfortably under such raw curiosity, though I’ve been slowly getting used to the fact that he was just someone that would inevitably always throw me off. The man was basically 85 % deception and 15 % flirting, I’d rather keep myself amused by other means than striking up any kind of conversation with him.

Hoseok on the other hand had during our discussion leaned back into the sofa and he watched me with his face closed off and clean off any smile, only apprehension shining through in his gaze. He watched me with distrust and like I was a problem he wouldn’t hesitate to solve. That sent a wave of shivers and goosebumps down my back, finally giving me the opportunity to see the man behind the mask. This was the man people feared, this was the man the petty criminals respected, or they’d find themselves solved. This was the man that walked amongst the docks, and everybody listened. I fully believed that had Yoongi given the order, he’d be happy to get rid of me right here in the club.

Sitting here, drinking leisurely while these three men grinned at me like hungry wolves, I fully realised just how far deep into shit I shovelled myself with this personal justice route I had taken. Yoongi kept me around only because it amused him to watch me struggle and both Jungkook and Hoseok were firmly against indulging me.

As much as I enjoyed annoying Jungkook cause he was one of the members that always let his anger show, and that was very therapeutic for me, I was aware the reason why I was such a sore in his existence was because he hated how close Yoongi let me. Given the chance he’d prolly kill me even without Yoongi’s orders.

Other than that, Jimin and Namjoon were dangerous to be around and speak with, and Seokjin I haven’t even met, but Jimin insinuated he was also getting a little trigger happy when it came to my meddling. Now gloves were off and I was truly treading thin ice. One misstep and I would turn into a warning, just like any cop that got too close. Up until now it was all fun and games, what’s a little tailing and tracking between friends, but once I put this investigation to life, I’d truly be in danger of retribution.

I once again glanced at the satisfied grin on Yoongi’s face, at his hands gently clasped around a whiskey glass, at his relaxed shoulders and designer suit and shoes, pretty hair curling around a pretty face, and I saw the violence hiding underneath. He was good at masking his, and that made him so dangerous. It was so easy to forget what kind of man you were talking to. And from now on I would risk standing in the direct line of Hoseok’s ire as well.

I threw back the rest of the cocktail I had in my glass, my stomach protesting as I hadn’t eaten much the whole day, and I stood up to leave. I felt their stares on me, all three of them burning through me with those fiery eyes, each of them showing a different kind of craze. The gaze of a puppeteer, the gaze of a honeytrap and the gaze of a killer.

I shuddered and moved away from them, closer to the edge overlooking the rest of the club. Everyone was enjoying just a normal Friday night, having absolutely no idea what was going on just a few metres above them. I envied them a little bit, I envied how carefree they seemed.

“Feel free to enjoy yourself tonight,” Yoongi spoke suddenly into the silent tension, “The drinks are on me.” With his arm he gestured over the railing of the balcony, down to the pit of bodies moving together to the rhythm as one. Suddenly the spell was broken and I once again started to percieve the loud club music blaring throughout the whole space as it reverberated through my bones.

Without me noticing, Yoongi had stood up as well and moved to me, his presence and the warmth radiating off of his body abruptly crowding me in against the railing. I froze in a moment, just sensing him right behind, close enough to make me feel he was there but not enough to touch, as he leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

“You do deserve to let loose and relax once in a while,” he spoke to me in a hypnotising drawl, his voice turning into almost a purr, “So don’t be shy… indulge.” A full body shiver wracked through me, making me jerk in place with the force of it, and for a brief moment I wondered whether this is what it felt like to be sung by sirens into a sure death. Yoongi chuckled again, a low rumbly sound that made me twitch, and then he stepped away from me.

The cool air rushing in broke the spell and I collected my bearings again, throwing a disgruntled stare at him over my shoulder while my knees fought to work again, hands clenching the railing like it was the only thing currently keeping me alive. I just managed to catch a glimpse of the man’s sardonic grin before he turned completely and left.

The two other men stood up as well, both of their faces once again amused by my plight as I was very obviously flustered by Yoongi’s behaviour, before they stepped out right after their boss, leaving me completely alone in the luxurious balcony bathed in red velvet and sin.

Defeatedly I sat down onto the nearest sofa with an ‘oompf’, all bones turned into soup as I decompressed now that the oppressive atmosphere left with them, and blankly stared at a wall for a moment before I was able to process things normally again. My phone started wildly buzzing in my little handbag and I decided that ignoring whatever just happened and taking the distraction it offered me was a better choice than to dwell on it.

Fishing the phone out, I checked the neglected notifications, not much really coming in except for a text from Cheol confirming he read my email about the files and that he’d be ready Monday to go over it once more and some social media pings. And then, a very noticeable slew of messages from Minjoon. The first one was from 19:22, which was around the time I arrived here, asking whether I’d still be up for a dinner. It was currently over 8pm, but there was a few more asking minor questions with the newest one only from a few minutes ago.

I quickly opened the chat and answered an affirmative, my brain just begging for me to distract myself from tonight’s happenings. Minjoon was happy to hear from me and I finally took him up on the offer to drive me, as I couldn’t exactly sit behind a wheel right now.

On my way out I pointedly ignored the bartender’s small smirk, or the bouncer’s curiously raised eyebrows, I ignored Yoongi sitting at the downstairs bar chatting amicably with the guy manning it and sending me very unsubtle mirthful glances, I ignored Taehyung’s flirty wave as I passed him in the hall and most of all I ignored Hoseok leaning against a sleek black car outside of the club with a cigarette between his fingers, icy eyes following my figure for as long as he could.

The second I disappeared behind a corner I half expected him to run after me and grab me, the feeling of being watched slithering along my back in a way that made me shudder in disgust and fear. I hurried towards a bigger road, the Friday evening rush swallowing me and hiding me amidst drunken college kids, foreigners and working folk trying to forget their responsibilities for at least one night. I could relate to that, but no matter how much these meetings took away from me, they always gave me some sick satisfaction in return. And I couldn’t wait for the day I truly bested him.

I waited around for a few minutes, just enough to have the evening chill start setting into me, before a familiar car came into view, slowing down until I could hop in quickly. Minjoon smiled at me warmly, his eyes getting caught on my outfit and he fought for a few moments to keep his eyes on the road. I blushed deeply under his gaze and felt the relief of not having to police my reactions like I did with Yoongi, finally getting the chance to freely feel without fearing his mocking eyes.

“Where were you?” he asked incredulously, voice a little shaky as his glances kept getting caught on my short skirt and exposed legs. There was an electric current going through me at his obvious interest, a fire slowly waking to life right under my skin, and I found myself subconsciously trying to fold my legs in a way that make them look even prettier.

“Just out with some friends,” the lie slipped out of my lips so easily I didn’t even stop to think about feeling guilty about it, too preoccupied with feeling the tension between us slowly cracking, clutching the handbag like a lifeline and revelling in my rising heartbeat. I felt so free, so opposite of how nervous and jittery Yoongi made me. And I wanted.

“I see, I thought you were going home to rest, so I didn’t want to bother you at first,” Minjoon said, lips turning into another warm smile, which I returned tenfold, my whole face lighting up.

“I’m glad you did, I was getting hungry,” I told him teasingly, “It’s always nice with a personal chauffeur, you know?” He went along with my teasing happily, hands attractively flexing on the steering wheel as he shot me a look with one eyebrow raised, lips playing with as subtle smirk. The whole atmosphere shifted; the tension close to overflowing. Suddenly it became very clear to us that we’ve been dancing around the line for too long.

“So where to, your highness?” Minjoon asked, even though he was obviously already driving with some goal in his mind. I only grinned at him and responded: “Wherever you want, sir.”

The place turned out to be a cute little restaurant, the kind that is open at all times of the day and a girl in full club attire in the evening wasn’t a strange sight there. I had to laugh at Minjoon’s choice, as he clearly improvised upon seeing how I was dressed. But the man was watching me with something I could call fondness in eyes and that was all that mattered to me as he placed his hand on the small of my back and led me inside.

Once seated, I found that there wasn’t really even a need for talking about the team, and frankly I wasn’t even in the mood to be discussing Yoongi when I had just met with him and was doing my best to distract myself from that. Minjoon was still watching me with some sort of fascination, his gaze flickering between intrigued and sensual, and I was sure he also wasn’t particularly interested in work related topics.

We exchanged some more flirty grins while we ordered, but politely waited to be alone before starting up any kind of conversation.

“So… outing with friends?” Minjoon started, gaze once again slipping to my attire before jumping back to my face slightly flushed. I only nodded, too spent to come up with something and spend my evening lying. “I wasn’t really feeling it,” I added after slight deliberation. Minjoon grinned.

“Was feeling up to meeting me though,” the man retorted, flirty expression taking over his face, “Gonna make me feel special. Be careful or it might go to my head.” I chuckled at him, leaning over the table to graze our fingers lightly together. Minjoon’s eyes immediately jumped down and zeroed in on the place of contact before he looked back to me, eyes hooded.

Suddenly feeling parched, I licked my lips, rolling my tongue along them slowly and curled them into a sly smirk. “Everybody deserves to feel a little special,” it came out almost on a whisper, the tense atmosphere setting between us and freezing us into our spots with dark eyes and hungry stares.

I still felt jittery from my encounter earlier in the night and it mixed together with the anticipation of what was to come from this, throwing me into a whirlwind of emotions that made my body tremble slightly. My stomach was all knotted up, but it didn’t feel unpleasant, instead there was excitement brewing and slowly spreading through my bloodstream.

Even after the food arrived, the air kept getting tenser, even as we attempted to have regular conversation, it crackled between us like an onsetting storm. Every word, every sentence inlaid with telling mischievous smiles and expressive eyes. Sometimes during the dinner it started dawning on me that this was inevitable, we both were already too far. With all the flirting we’ve been doing this was really only a matter of time, and it just so happened that tonight the tension was going to explode into something that we probably shouldn’t be doing.

I looked over at Minjoon again, properly eyeing him and his expression, and when his gaze met mine and darkened as he sat there with his cheeks dusted with pink, hunched over like he was ready to launch himself over the table, sitting there like he would rather be anywhere else and preferably somewhere where there were no barriers between us, that’s when I realised he also wasn’t as opposed to this as he should have been.

The small talk flew all stilted between us and we mostly just stewed in our own cocktails of emotions and sensations, trying to chew through our food as fast as possible so we could leave; and even though it was already a little chilly outside, there was a heat coming from within that was enough for a thin line of sweat to bead along my hairline. I couldn’t imagine what picture I painted at that moment, if with one look it was obvious how the arousal was steadily rising in my veins with every another second spent just shyly exchanging heated stares.

Every so often my eyes slipped a little lower, eyeing the young man’s collarbones just peeking out from his dark green tee, sliding up and down his arms as he leaned on the table and ate, and I could see from the delighted sparkles glinting in Minjoon’s eyes that he was aware, and very much returned the favour.

God, this was definitely going to end in disaster. There was no way we could avoid this any longer.

And I was right.

Once done with the food, we sat around for a moment just looking at each other silently, before Minjoon finally gestured towards the door. “You wanna go? I’ll drive you home,” he offered immediately, the kind words that I was already used to by now tinged by something a little more tonight. I nodded and after some flirty arguing over who’s going to pay, I finally surrendered and went outside to wait for Minjoon to settle the bill.

The cold air rushed over me and cooled my burning skin a little and I took a few big breaths to ground myself. The night Seoul was loud and lively, I found myself surrounded by joyful groups and couples dressed in their best sitting in restaurants and eating or walking around the sidewalk laughing, clearly aiming for one of the establishments in the area. It was quite refreshing to see, and I lost myself in the rush and buzz, watching others enjoy themselves.

And that’s how Minjoon found me when he came out, sitting on a little wall by the sidewalk dreamily staring off into the distance. He came over, hand going straight to my face, gently catching a strand of my hair and slowly pushing it behind my ear. He lingered there for a moment, fingertips brushing the reddening tip as all the blood rushed to my face in a mighty blush. On instinct I ducked my head being too flustered and broke the contact, but the man just smoothly moved to my shoulder, pushing me up to stand.

He was very natural in his movements, pulling me to his side and wrapping his arm around my shoulders very lightly, and I just went with it, too shy to express it but too happy to go against it. I fought against the instinct to giggle like a schoolgirl and set out to his car, which was quite a short walk, and unfortunately to my apartment it was a quite short drive as well, even in the restless silence that stretched between us.

Our arrival at my doorstep seemed to have come sooner than I was anticipating, sooner than I was ready to end this little outing. I turned to the brown-haired man and studied his face for a moment. We steadily exchanged eye contact, the tension between us back with vengeance, my throat drying up under his dark gaze. I was fluttering on the edge of propriety, in my head still repeating all the reasons why this was such a bad idea, but it didn’t seem to matter when Minjoon watched me with the same longing and desperation. I felt my skin heating up, my insides stirring with something I haven’t properly felt in such a long time it hit me with a ferocity I wasn’t prepared for.

“Aren’t you going to go home?” he whispered so lightly I almost didn’t hear him. He sounded slightly breathless, tone curious and probing.

“Can you walk me to the door?” I shot back immediately, almost unthinking. He licked his lips, his kind face getting twisted with something akin to intense desire before he quickly nodded, and we both scrambled to get out of his car.

The walk was brief, of course it was. I lived on a second floor and my door was accessible from an outside walkway, so all we had to do was clear two stories of stairs and we suddenly found ourselves by my tiny apartment.

I turned to Minjoon, something expectant in the air between us, and each second ticking by felt like a countdown to the inevitable. I wasn’t ready to end this night here. I knew I wasn’t. And judging by Minjoon’s bottomless eyes, I could confidently gamble on his interest and hit jackpot every time.

As the tense silence stretched out a little, neither of really sure how to tackle this situation as we were caught in the ‘will we won’t we’ and ‘should we shouldn’t we’, until I decided to break the curse. Stepping a little closer and looking up at him through my lashes, my hand latching onto the sleeve of his jean jacket that he put on in the car and tugging lightly, I steeled myself and jumped over the line head first.

“Do you want a cup of coffee before you go?” the whispered question escaped my lips and hung for a few moments between us. I watched as if in slow motion as Minjoon took it in and nodded once, then twice, and then his hand caught mine.

I turned hastily towards the door, jabbing the key in and pushing inside without a single thought in my mind. It turned out, there wasn’t even a need for an awkward pretending of drinking anything, because the second the door closed behind us, we were on each other.

It was like dam broke between us and we suddenly couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Minjoon kissed me quickly and desperately and I fought to keep up, hands going around his neck immediately while his snaked around my waist. Taking off shoes long forgotten, we stumbled inside and towards the sofa.

In that moment, I didn’t have the mental capacity to think about the huge maps in my bedroom. I didn’t realise how lucky I was we didn’t make it any further, too lost in the way Minjoon’s tongue was finally sliding against mine and how his calloused hands caressing my sides felt a lot like heaven.

And when he inevitably got his hands on my skirt and I inevitably thought of Yoongi’s eyes taking me in when I arrived at the balcony, and when Minjoon pulled me closer and I thought of Yoongi’s presence caging me in with his warmth against the railing, of his lips turning into a smug smirk as Minjoon kissed me, then I just pressed my eyes closed harder and tangled my hands into his short brown hair, banishing all thoughts of curly black locks far away into the deepest corner of my mind.

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Taglist (open): @wobblewobble822 @viankiss @jjkwifestyle @mortal-body-timelesssoul @fullmetalavatar54

@ot72025 @jalexad @eleni-cherie @m00njinnie

[calqlate]

NOVEMBER SONG

SUMMARY: Yamaguchi Tadashi always saw himself as a side character. However, there came a day whereby he did not want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be perhaps, loved — all because of a single person: you.

PAIRING: yamaguchi tadashi x gn! reader

GENRE(S): pining (one sided)

WC: 1559

NOTE(S): inspired by baek yerin's november song + dw it has a happy ending

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST (italicised blogs are unable to be tagged): @deeomi

Yamaguchi Tadashi was that boy: the awkward, quiet boy who sat in the corner of the classroom right next to the windows. He never spoke unless he was spoken to, and he only talked more than he needed to with Tsukishima. He was always seen by girls as Tsukishima's friend, the one that can be used as a channel to get close to the tall blonde. (Yamaguchi had always felt bad for them, because Tsukishima never paid them much attention in the first place.)

Yamaguchi always saw himself as a side character. If he were to appear in a fairytale, he would be the page boy appearing on page fifteen, or perhaps even the faceless gardener drawn in the background. For him, just being there was okay, as long as he was not disrupting the flow of anything. It was okay if Tsukishima was the focal point and he was the 'but'. As long as he was not a forgotten face, he was okay with it.

However, there came a day he did not want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be perhaps, loved — all because of a single person: you.

It was funny, was it not? To have lived like an extra of a major production but wanting to be noticed all of a sudden? To be the star, the protagonist, the hero? (Maybe he did not want to be the hero, per se; he just wanted to be seen as a someone for once.)

"What's wrong with you?" Tsukishima asked one day, his patented impassive, blank look still on his face, "You're happier and, I don't know... jittery, these few days."

"M-Me?" Yamaguchi stuttered, then rushed to fill in that dubious reply with a scoff, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes," the blonde sighed through his nose, "Yes, you do."

Yamaguchi did not say anything else. Arguing with his friend would not get him anywhere; Tsukishima was perpetually right all the time. Winning an argument against him would be doing the impossible. It would be akin to proving that Newton was lying when he proved that gravity exists.

So it was natural that Tsukishima was proven right once again when he caught Yamaguchi staring a tad bit too long than usual at a particular person. Tsukishima recognised them: it was [F/N] from the next-door Physics class.

"So, [F/N]?" Tsukishima said after class, a hint of mischief in his golden-brown eyes.

Yamaguchi immediately turned a few shades darker of red, wishing he could disappear into his hair or thin air, he did not mind which.

"You can't be just simply staring at them, you know," the taller male said with a little sigh, "They won't be able to notice you that way."

"I just don't want to embarrass myself," the freckled male said meekly, then added in a softer voice, "I'm just... me. There's nothing special about me."

"No, there is," Tsukishima said, "There are things about you that make you special."

There was a brief pause as Tsukishima frowned, before he elaborated, "Being caring, for instance, and being nice. Not everyone has a soft heart like you, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi's jaw fell slightly, and he stared at his friend with wide eyes. Tsukishima had never really complimented him before, so this was something new and big. Monumental, even.

He smiled, "Thanks, Tsukki."

Catching a person's attention, however, proved to be difficult. He did not know how Tsukishima managed to do it, but he was surely envious of whatever the blonde had that he himself was lacking in. However, he thought of a plan that he found always proved to be successful in almost every drama his mother watched.

"[F/N]?" he said one day as he approached you, your name rolling off his lips easily yet oddly, like it was meant to be.

You quirked an eyebrow up at him, beckoning him to continue.

"I-I was wondering if you'd like to study together," he said, stuttering unintentionally at the start, to which he mentally berated and kicked himself for, "Additional Mathematics, especially. I can't quite grasp linear law." That was a lie; he was rather good at Additional Mathematics, and his best topic was linear law.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "But aren't you good in Additional Mathematics?"

He winced internally. Drat, he was caught. Time to deploy Plan B.

"I was thinking it could be more of a revision session," he said before any doubts could cross your mind, "I can't prepare with Tsukki either; he has tuition classes."

"Oh, okay," you said, shrugging your shoulders slightly, "How does Saturday afternoon sound?"

"Sounds good," he said, smiling and hoping it did not look too creepy or off-putting in any way (because God forbid he scared you off after his very first interaction with you), "We'll do that."

The revision sessions did prove to help; Yamaguchi got closer to you. Perhaps it was even a little too fast-paced than he originally thought it would be, since he clearly did not plan too far ahead when he realised a harmless little crush turned into a full-blown and slightly dangerous love. Every little accidental touch sent both of your hands jerking away from each other, every slightly prolonged glance sent both of your cheeks burning whenever they were caught, and every smile set both of your hearts pounding furiously against both of your ribcages.

"You're in love with them," Tsukishima blurted out one day during lunch, which caused Yamaguchi to choke on his rice.

"W-What?" he said as he pounded on his chest, looking at Tsukishima with wide eyes, similar to that of a fish's.

"[F/N]," Tsukishima said casually, picking a cherry tomato from his lunchbox with his chopsticks.

Yamaguchi covered his face in his hands, "Is it really that obvious?"

"Anyone would know," Tsukishima said plainly, "It's that obvious."

A pause followed as Tsukishima chewed on the cherry tomato, then, "Aren't you going to confess?"

"M-Me? Confess?" Yamaguchi stuttered as he dropped his hands to his sides, "It's not that easy, you know!"

"What century are you living in, Yamaguchi?" Tsukishima asked with a snort before closing his lunchbox, "It doesn't matter who asks the other person out. Anyway—" — The blonde paused and stared at his friend before continuing — "Don't you want to make a lasting impression on them?"

Yamaguchi bit his lower lip. He was never one to be macho or manly in any way. He was the shy and gentle guy; he would be a stammering mess with pink-tinted cheeks. However, Tsukishima had raised a valid point. It was time to "man up", like Tanaka-senpai had always said, and make the first move, like chess.

Tsukishima stood up, taking his lunchbox with him.

"Be confident," Tsukishima said, patting the dark green-haired male on the shoulder before walking off, "I know you can do it."

And so he did; he puffed his chest out and summoned every ounce of willpower he had to brave through the confession, to enunciate his words clearly without hesitation.

He expected rejection. Which person, in their right mind, would say yes?

Apparently, you were that person, which pleasantly surprised him.

He always wondered, what exactly did you see in him that made you agree? He hoped you were not just doing it out of pity, or worse, using him to get close to Tsukishima. (A lot of people liked Tsukki better than the plain old Yamaguchi anyway.)

However, you always reassured him gently, all while taking his hands, that you did it because you reciprocated his feelings. You were not lying to him in any way, neither did your actions have any underlying meaning. You were willing to be together with him, to be his other half, to be the one supporting him at one hundred percent.

Whenever he felt down, whenever he felt useless, whenever he felt like the world was against him for some unknown and odd reason, you were always there to give a hug, to tell him that everything was going to be alright, and that you were physical proof that you were there and would not be going anywhere. It was during times like these that Yamaguchi knew for sure that this love was meant to be his and it was uniquely his, that a bond like this would never come again in his entire lifetime.

Even if this love was broken, trampled on, and tested, it would never fade. Both of you would always come back together, like unlike poles, the right puzzle pieces filling in the gaps.

Maybe this love was not romantic according to society's standards, but that was okay. It was the bond and overwhelming feelings that words could not describe make this love special, one that cannot be recreated.

He hoped he could be the one for you, too: the shoulder you could cry on, the first person you would share good news with, the Mr. Right in your happily ever after. That future was close in reach, but he did not know that. For now, he was content with the way he lived with you, and that was perfectly fine.

As long as the two of you were connected, like two single lines diverged together into one, everything will be fine.

[generalpalacefishgoop]

Interesting Richarlyson, Pomme, and qBad lore lines regarding qForever and/or @v@ or others (23 Dec 2023)

(not full transcript, just some i thought were interesting, also I'm not changing their typos on their signs n such)

with qPhil and qBad:

Richas :"Dad DID took a medicine but NOT this one" (Happy Pills)

Richas :"Tio Phil 0_0 it IS a medicine but…it is not taking effect. I knew it but, well, the only thing I can do is try to…ask help for someone but who knows where they are."

Richas :"Don't worry tios 0_0 killing him does nothing cause it won't do much now. If anything happen, it will be to me sO DON'T WORRY >:D WE CAN FIX HIM"

with qBad: after sending Pomme away for a moment:

Richas :"so they spoke about bad forever right? Take care of Pom and Dapper tio, I will take care of him dad is far gone, don't try to save him this is not a matter of a pill anymore 0_0 well KKKKKKKKKKKKKK NEITHER I DO KNOW LIFE IS CONFUSING"

Bad asking if "taking care" of him meant killing him

Richas : "KKKKKKKKKKK no tio nah nuh yuh"

Even if the pills aren't working, shouldn't there be some way to fix him?

Richas :"I mean there always is but…do we know how? I can ask tio but do you even know about a certain "dark cucurucho""

"That's the thing tio This is our only hint, for this, it's not a mather of sving him, but keeping dad alive I mean, he might be a danger to me but he is still my dad and better me than the others no? 0_0"

Nonono! what about nobody?

Richas :"thATS WHY KKKK YOURE A LITTLE GOSSIPER and you like dad forever a lot so I don't want tio to be stepping on landmines"

What about working together?

Richas :"Tio again 0_0 KKKKKKKKKKK again, he is far gone, idk how bad it was before Well, if that wakes dad up >:D"

"I mean yeah tio rn the only thing he would propose to in this state is satan so this is how bad it is"

Bad proposing different sleeping arrangements

Richas :"he don't want to kill me now tio 0_0 BUT at least not for today KKKKKK"

"i mean he shot tallulah so KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK But dw 0_0 I just want to say because tio, put energy on pom and dappe >:D"

Bad expresses concern towards Richas

Richas : "KKKKKKKKKKK I am a smart eggie tio, dw and honestly 0_0 it's dad, I will be fine either way, did anyone ever hurt and egg like this before?

qBad :"If you die Richas, I will crawl down and grab your soul and drag it back from the underworld myself, ok Richas? You are forbidden from dying, understood?"

Richas :"WAIT NOW I KINDA WANNA DIE JUST TO GIVE TIO THE WORK"

"if dad die pull him back for me, please"

qBad :"I will do my best Richas, I'll try"

Goes to look for Pomme, caught Pomme just staring a little too close at fire

Pomme :"hey :D"

qBad :"hmm…what are you up to?"

Pomme :"Nothing, dw"

qBad :"Oh. ok. Well if it was nothing, i won't worry about it because if it was something….you would say something…"

Pomme :"Just feeling a bit sad Just a bit worried of not being trust worthy"

qBad :"It's not that Pomme. It's Richas…he's concerned about you and so he doesn't want to tell you something because he doesn't want you to worry that's basically it"

Pomme :"Why? He doesn't need to be worried about me"

Richas :"KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK I have secrets with pom too"

"no no Pome 0_0 it's about dad forever"

Pomme :"I mean… I don't know, today has just been a lot I wasn't planning on keeping it a secret from you"

"It's more… of an idea than a secret But I'm not sure we should say anything about it "for now""

Richas :"BUT I can say hope you're fine pom 0_0 dw, take care of tio bad too cause he abuses his poor totems"

Pomme :"dw, I made it my duty to keep him alive like I kept you alive for 3 months you muffinhead"

Richas :"CALLATE KKKKKKK"

Bad starts singing a "we will keep Richas alive" song

Pomme :"A miracle tbh"

"Okay that song was comforting pfft and funny :') <3"

"I'm just… I just want to try my best, you know"

Bad gives words of encouragement

Pomme :"Today was honestly awful, I saw him SHOT my siblings and I couldn't hit him, because >I know< it would've make things worse"

qBad :"Yeah, I think you did the right thing Pomme, the way you handled that situation, I think you handled it very well. And I am very proud of you."

Pomme :"I was angry at him and I felt powerless and I hate this I hate this I hate this feeling, I always feel powerless things keep happening to us and I CANT defend them no matter how hard I try to train and have the best gear I'll break at some point, I can't tank it forever no pun intended"

Bad ensures her that she has people who love her for her to lean on

Pomme :"Dad everytime it happens when you are not here when our parents aren't here"

Richas :"I MEAN MINE WAS KKKKKKKKKKKKKK"

Pomme :"yeah, AND he was targetting richas I just made sure to be the LAST ONE to warp, to leave no one behind, besides Richas and what I did was waiting in front of RIchas' stasis enderpearland I WAS READY to activate it I GOT SO SCARED."

Richas :"KKKKKK Pom, thank you for those splash potions TAKING 20 BULLETS HURT A LOT KKKKKKKKKK"

Pomme :"I KNOW I WAS SO FREAKING MAD. I WAS JUST PRETENDING TO BUILD FOR HIM BUT KEPT LOOKING AT THE SIDE I had my freaking tomb digger ready to hit him to give y'all time to warp away At least Dapper taught me well"

Richas :"our goat sleeper"

qBad :"Let's go yeah! See, Pomme, what you just described is a perfect example of literally ALL of us together, have been able to help lift each other up, help make each other stronger. Your brother, Dapper, helped give you the skills you needed to be tough, he gave you knowledge and tools that could help you in this situation. Richas helped provide you with levity while you're out in the wilderness to help you have the motivation to stay alive yourself, right? Instead of doing it alone, you had this goofball to keep you company, right? Everybody in our life can help lift us up in some way, shape or form. What's interesting about burdens, Pomme, is the burdens that we help carry for others feel lighter to us because we're helping them and the burdens others help carry with us, feel lighter to them as well so when two people help carry each other's burdens where they can, it actually makes the weight lighter for both of them and that's what we're trying to do with you and that's what you're doing with us Pomme. You're shouldering a burden which is making it easier on your siblings, it's making it easier on everyone else, you know what that's called, Pomme? It's called love. That's when you love your family so much and you love your friends that you're willing to sacrifice to help them because you love them and you care about them, okay? So, you don't need to worry cuz we love you too, Pomme and we're going to keep you safe and hopefully you can help keep us safe and I just want to let you know we do appreciate it."

Pomme :"I will keep you safe, I would do anything so you all are safe

literally anything"

group hug

[astral--horrorshow]

Around-The-Clock Shadows

Platonic Yandere ROTTMNT x Reader

Info: This will be a full-length fic including multiple ROTTMNT characters, the main storyline revolves around the Mad Dogs.

Fic Summary: You sure are likeable, aren't you?

《Chapter 1》

Chapter 2: Juice-Induced Short-Circuit

Characters: Donnie, Leo, Raph, Mikey

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! I'm going to try to write a bit more to get chapters out faster, (dw i'm not burning myself out, i literally sit around at home most days) so ya'll have that to look forwards to!

Tbh I did my most productive writing while listening to video game fan music, maybe it just has magical tendencies from good it is.

If you want to be added to a taglist, just say the word! If you want to draw fanart or make anything based off of this, I would be literally honored. Please don't be shy, I will love whatever you make! If you have any questions about the fic, feel free to ask!

TW: Stalking, kidnapping plans, toxic relationships, Donnie has a bit of an ego, ruining of clothing

I do not condone any of the behaviors found or done in this fic. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. If you or someone you know is being treated like this, please contact the authorities.

Please Reblog writer's work!

Chapter Summary: Donnie gets rid of a tracker in a way that Leo doesn't like very much, and Raph goes over a plan with his brothers.

Word Count: 1176

☆~☆~☆

"Don't let me hear the robins sing above,

What good's their song if I've no one to love?"

You leaned your head back against the porcelain of the bathtub, watching the steam from the water curl up towards the ceiling. The silky-double vocals of Leslie Gore crept beneath the door and echoed throughout the tiled bathroom.

You leaned forwards and pulled the plug to the drain, watching the water swirl into the pipes.

"Don't let that dreamy moon come out, come out tonight,"

You lifted the needle off of the record, slipping it back into its case and strolling back to your bedroom. You snuggled under the warm covers, your wet hair dampening the pillow. Your eyelids were getting heavier with each second, warm water always did make you sleepy.

A hand landed on the outdoor windowsill, pulling the body attached to it upwards, revealing Donatello. He froze for a moment when you stirred in your sleep, but relaxed again when you merely turned your sleeping face to the wall.

Donnie pulled open your window, and slipped inside almost silently. He scanned around the room, before the spot of red light he was looking for pulled him to the jacket it was coming from.

He plucked the tracker the Purple Dragons had planted and glared at it with distaste. How dare they disrespect your privacy like that? He knew that they didn't care about you, not like he did. He wants to protect you, they want to use you. He wouldn't let that happen, over his dead body. Donnie's trackers are for protection purposes, so you need them. You need him, you need the rest of your new family to protect you from people like Kendra.

Now, what to do with the tracker? He obviously couldn't bring it back to the Lair, but he didn't want to leave it on you. He couldn't place it somewhere else, there were still things to prepare for your arrival and they would still see you at school, much to his displeasure. He thought it over, finding no good options even within the deepest depths of his intellect.

Suddenly, he thought of the most intelligent idea. He would spill something on the jacket, so you would throw it in the wash! The tracker would be destroyed! Those horrible, deceiving nerds wouldn't suspect a thing! He applauded himself in his mind, basking in his own intellect.

He was so busy praising himself in his mind that he didn't notice the electric blue portal materializing out of thin air behind him until Leo was right behind him. Donnie jumped nearly a mile out of his skin when Leo's hand landed on his shoulder.

He jerked around, expecting you to have woken up somehow and discovered his presence, but deflated when he saw that it was just his brother, and glared at him.

"What are you doing here, Leo?" Donnie said, crossing his arms with an annoyed look on his face. He could believe that his brother could do what he was doing, but he really wished he wouldn't.

"I'm visiting, of course," Leonardo flipped the ends of his bandana over his shoulder like it was hair, "Also, Raph sent me to look for you. You didn't come back after you left."

"That's none of your business."

"I think it is. If you're here, then it's all our business."

"You'll just do something rash."

Leo put on a half-mocking, half-serious pout, "Nuh-uh!"

"Scoff."

"If you don't tell me, I'll tell Raph and Mikey something is wrong."

Donatello clenched his fists and teeth, glaring even deeper at Leo. "Fine. The Purple Dragons placed a tracker on them, and I'm going to get rid of it."

Leonardo brought a hand up to his chest and gasped dramatically like a woman in a black-and-white movie, his eyes widening. "No!" He said it less like an exclamation, and more like a woman gossiping with her friends.

"Yes. Like I said, I'm going to get rid of it. Now go away."

Leo sassily put a hand on his hip, "No. I'm going to stay here and look after them."

"Fine," Donnie snapped, "But if you wake them up, you're going to regret it."

He walked to the kitchen, taking a carton of juice out of the fridge before returning.

Upon re-entering the bedroom, Donnie gritted his teeth yet again upon seeing him sit on the edge of your bed, his three-fingered hand gently petting the top of your head.

“What are you doing? Get off of there before you wake them up!” Leo pouted at his brother’s demand, but sat up anyway. He cocked his head in curiosity upon seeing the juice in Donnie’s hand.

“Juice?”

“Yes. This is how I’m going to get rid of that awful tracker.”

Leo launched forwards, attempting to grab the juice. “Don’t do that! You’re going to ruin a perfectly good jacket!”

Donatello jerked his hand back before Leo could grab it. “The whole point is that they’re going to wash it, dumb-dumb.” Upon hearing his brother’s plan, Leo didn’t try to grab the juice anymore, but put a hand on his hip again. “And what happens if it stains?”

“I’ll buy them another one,” Donnie turned back to the jacket, screwing the cap open.

Leonardo made no further attempt to stop his brother, but looked away as Donnie poured the liquid over the fabric. In his refusal to watch him disfigure clothing, he looked over to you, still sleeping soundly even with all the noise they were both making. You really were a deep sleeper, how cute.

“Done,” Donnie announced, interrupting Leo’s thoughts. He turned back to him, trying not to focus on the stained fabric on a hanger behind him. “Let’s just go,” Leo said, sulkily. He didn’t want to leave you so soon, but he couldn’t stand another minute in the awkwardness of the moment. They both walked to the kitchen, checking on you one last time to make sure you were still sleeping soundly. Donnie put the juice back in the fridge, then stepped into Leo’s portal.

☆~☆~☆

The Turtle Tank sped throughout the backstreets of New York City, leaving scattered papers and humans in its wake. Raphael pulled the tank into an isolated alleyway, beckoning his brothers to join in a circle.

"Okay," Raph said, putting his arms on the backs of Leo and Mikey, who were next to him in the circle, "We have everything prepared? Donnie, you have the tranq gun?"

"Of course I do, Raph," Donnie said with a slightly exasperated tone, "We've been over this."

"Okay, fine. Everyone knows the plan, right? We sneak in, get them, and take them home, like a boss!" Upon saying his catchphrase, Raph pumped his fist in the air, hyped up.

His energy spread to his younger brothers, and they put in their words of excitment and encouragement. Raph drove the vehicle out of the alleyway, and sped towards your home.

☆~☆~☆

A/N: Apologies if this chapter drags on a bit! I wanted to focus more on staying on one scene because of all the jumping back and forth in the first chapter! Also sorry that Raph and Mikey aren't very active in the story right now! They'll be a lot more starting in chapter 3! The first two chapters are more focused on the stalking aspect, which I tend to assign to Leo and Donnie. Raph and Mikey are more caretaker-esque, which you'll definently see very soon!

Taglist <3: @yandere-toons @yanteetle @ssak-i @oleander-nin @averagerottmntsimp

[llyfrenfys]

Followers- Dw i angen eich help / I need your help

This is a post I've been sitting on for a while and it's time I finally write it to let you all know how I am, where I'm at and the progress of Prosiect Llyfr Enfys.

So, as I alluded to in previous posts, I had a health scare at the end of May which landed me in the hospital. I've spent June recovering from that and dealing with a few life changes as well (which I will talk about later).

Unfortunately, me and my partner had to deal with an unexpected bill of £200 this month which had to come directly out of my savings and is a huge chunk of it.

I've been doing research in preparation for hopefully doing a Masters at Aberystwyth in September on the topic of LGBTQ+ Welsh terminology before the 20th Century. My undergraduate dissertation was on the topic of 20th-21st Century LGBTQ+ Welsh terminology (which is currently unmarked due to the marking boycott). Hopefully after graduation I can share it with you. But my research into older terminology means needing to travel to different archives and libraries in Wales, which at the minute, I just can't afford. The closest place would be Bangor, but I have no money to spare at the minute and Prosiect Llyfr Enfys is not funded by any scheme or grant- it's currently all funded by myself.

For the first time in my life, I've been considering using a food bank. We're not quite at that stage yet, but it's precarious. It's another unexpected bill away from a critical situation.

Currently, my monthly expenses for anything related to the dictionary totals around £40 (subscriptions to archives, libraries, genealogy research tools) which have been instrumental in my work. For example, I couldn't have written my articles for Hanes LHDT+ Cymru without access to ancestry sites or online newspaper archives. This does not include other expenses such as bus tickets to get to the National Library of Wales when I need to, or costs of purchasing dictionaries in order to source them in my work.

All of this is to say that i need your help:

I have a patreon which I will be posting in next in July- if you enjoy Prosiect Llyfr Enfys and want to help keep it going, please consider subscribing today by clicking the link above or in my bio. The lowest tier is affordable and if you have the cash to spare, will enable me to keep on working on the project. If you want to make a one-time donation, I'm considering enabling tips on tumblr for those who would prefer that.

If enough people are able to subscribe to keep the project going, I can start to make some concrete plans for a trip to Bangor and share my journey with you all and involve you in the trip. If I'm unable to raise enough funds, I will have to make the decision to pause the project until after my Master's. I do not currently have a publisher, which is also a big factor in that decision, if I need to make it.

All your support is greatly appreciated- if you cannot donate, please share this post.

As ever, huge huge diolch yn fawr to everyone who has supported the project so far- with your help, we can get this dictionary published to help benefit the whole Welsh LGBTQ+ community and beyond.

[silverfoxstole]

OK. Right. I've sorted my panel photos, which I'll start posting tomorrow (I won't bombard you with them all at once!), so I can get my thoughts straight about yesterday. This is going to be long; sorry! I'll divide it into two parts so that those who want to skip my wittering and just see the pics can.

I hadn't actually thought I'd ever go to a con again; my last one had been back in 2009 and they've got a hell of a lot bigger since then, which sort of puts me off as I don’t really like crowds, and living as I do right down on the south coast they're usually too far away. However, when back at the end of January an ad popped up out of the blue on my Facebook feed informing me that Paul would be appearing at Portsmouth Comic Con (less than ten miles from me) my heart skipped a beat and I started wondering whether I'd be able to go. Of course, there was nothing stopping me but I wasn't keen to go on my own, and I knew my DW-and-anything-else-related-to-scifi-fantasy-etc-hating sister would never agree.

When not long later I saw Sylvester was going to be there as well I mentioned it to my friend P (with whom I’ve attended cons in the past), lamenting that I had no one to go with and not really expecting her to suggest that she try to come down from Manchester so we could go together but to my surprise she did and so the tickets were duly booked. Fast forward to about three weeks ago, unfortunately, and things started to go - literally in this case - off the rails thanks to a driver's strike and then engineering work that meant no trains into Portsmouth for the 11th and 12th and P very reluctantly having to drop out because she wouldn't be able to get down here and back in time for work on Monday. Still wanting to go but not really wanting to do it alone I had no choice but to ask sis to come with me, which she very gamely did and I owe her. Big Time. It’s really not her thing and I know she didn't enjoy it at all. She works in town and made me stand on the outside in the queue in case she saw anyone she knew!

I had been worried about how I was going to react as I do suffer from anxiety and I've not been amongst crowds since before Covid, but much to my surprise I was completely relaxed, even when talking to the guests; I'm obviously long past my 'OMG it's Paul!' phase (thank goodness!) and instead it was a case of 'Oh, yeah, there he is, and Sylv and Sophie (a later addition, and one I'd been hoping for) too.' I don't know whether it's because they're so familiar or I just got used to actors popping in when I worked in a shop near a theatre, but it was easy and I'm so glad! The reflexology session I had in Thursday might have helped keep me calm, too; if you’re feeling tense I recommend it!

I had only previously visited the Guildhall for concerts (sis knows it better as she's had to do presentations to the city council in the past) so it was rather odd to be in there during the day. I have to say that I think they could have put aside more room for the guests as it was difficult to work out who was queuing to see who (ho ho). It was very warm and the setup also made taking photos a bit awkward with people having to dance round each other a bit. We went to see Paul first (of course), and when he clocked me in my NotD cosplay he leaned back, smiled and announced 'It's like lookin' in a mirror!' I honestly can't remember exactly what I said in response to that! Probably nothing that coherent! He asked if I'd made it myself, which gave me a neat opportunity to present the gift I'd made for him: an Eighth Doctor bear and Mr Bush bear.

I think i've wanted to make bears for Paul ever since I put together the first one nearly three years ago, but I never thought I'd get a chance so when I knew I'd be going to the con I started planning. I was originally just going to do the Doctor, and make a Seven bear for Sylvester, but as they were coming to Portsmouth I decided to do Bush as well since I can’t imagine Paul gets a lot of Hornblower-related gifts. Of course, when it was confirmed that Sophie would be there I had to make an Ace bear too and here they all are before I packed them up yesterday morning, sitting on the bags i'd also run up to put them in (not pictured, my terrible embroidery name tags to help me tell who was who):

I'll do some more detailed posts so you can see them properly another day, but I was so pleased with they way they turned out that it was really hard to give them up! At least I knew they'd be going to good homes!

When I gave Paul the bag he just looked at me in surprise and went 'Is that for me? Can I open it now?' and there was a smile on his face as soon as he saw what was inside. 'That's my career! Doctor Who and Hornblower!' He absolutely loved them, couldn't believe I'd made them and told me 'I have a room where I keep all the gifts I've been given, and these are going to take pride of place.' I couldn't wish for more than that! Well, maybe a photo of him with them but it was busy and I didn't like to ask and possibly hold things up. I hope he's found the alternative Dark Eyes outfit that I added for Eight bear as I had some fabric leftover from my jacket; the sonic for that one took a bit of ingenuity!

He asked about my costume again while we were getting into position (for want of a better term) for a photo and commented that so many people are paying someone to make their cosplays now and spending a hundreds of pounds, something I'd guess he finds quite astonishing given the incredulous look on his face when he said it. I could be wrong, but I got the impression that he likes to see what different fans have come up with; there are a lot of people who seem to be patronising Steven Ricks since Paul got his remade costume last year, which I can understand because the man is a brilliant tailor, but sometimes it must be a bit like seeing clones.

Jen took the photo and we were about to leave it there but then this strangely confident person I found inside me asked Paul a question:

‘Can I be cheeky?’

‘Sure.’

‘Can I give you a hug?’

‘Of course!’

Well, if you don’t ask, you don’t get! (says the woman who hates asking for things in shops) He gives very good hugs. 🥰

I did manage to let him go (it wasn’t easy!) and he thanked me again for the bears before we moved on to see Sophie, which involved going round to join another queue in the same small space. Confusing? Yep!

I don't know who here has met Sophie Aldred but you should because she is so, so lovely. Ace has always been one of my favourite companions and I was so pleased when I saw she would be coming. I'd already started an Ace bear with the intention of giving it to Sylvester with his, but of course that got changed and Sophie was smitten. She looked really closely at it, remarking on the little details - 'Oh, it's even got the plait. And a rucksack and baseball bat!' - and sat it proudly on the corner of her table, where I assume it stayed for some of the day. Apparently it's the best Ace bear she's ever seen - you can't get a better accolade than that! (My head was swelling somewhat by this point, by the way. I don't like to blow my own trumpet but I don't often get so many compliments, and never in such a short space of time, so i hope you can forgive me for including them.)

Last but not least, of course, there was Sylvester, which meant another queue in the same space, which was just daft as because their tables were next to each other you didn't know whether people were waiting for him or for Paul. I'm sure that could have been organised much better than it was. In the same section there were also two chaps who had somethng to do with Star Wars who weren't getting much attention at all which was a bit awkward. They haven't gone back today and I can't blame really them.

I've wanted to meet Sylv for years and he didn’t disappoint. He liked the fabric the bag was made from because its starry night pattern was similar to his waistcoat, which admittedly was why i bought it in the first place. When he got it open and saw what was inside he said 'Oh! I'm a little bear! That’s lovely!’ and when I said I'd made one for Sophie too leaned round trying to see it on Sophie's table. I half wish I'd made a set of both for each of them now but that might have been overkill, and I would have needed a rucksack of my own to transport them all; my bag was full to bursting as it was. Maybe if I see them again I’ll give Sophie a Doctor bear and Sylvester an Ace. As it stands I am so, so pleased that all three of them liked something I'd made so much, and Sylvester and Sophie were both also taken with the cartoons of the Seventh Doctor and Ace that I asked them to sign.

Phew! If you've reached the end of this, well done! I know I have tendency to ramble on and I commend your stamina! I'll put the photos in a separate post but I was one happy camper, especially as just afterwards i got another compliment on my costume and was asked to pose in the TARDIS! We didn't stay the whole day as it was hot, I'd pretty much seen what I wanted to (the Doctor Who 'exhibition' was just a few monster replicas, most of which weren't that good, unlike the really impressive experience they had last year for the 60th and which I would have loved to see. And there were no daleks! My ambition to hug a dalek sadly remains unfulfilled *sniff*) sis had developed a headache, but I'm very glad I went. 😀

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

luxiem x reader || halloween !! day two , part three

VOX AKUMA

personally, he'd be the most 'adult' about halloween

like ya know

he wouldnt go out of his way to do stuff for the day but like

he loves it whenever you try to scare him

its like his advent calendar except its you on every single day counting up to halloween trying to desperately get a yelp of surprise from him

tw for like mention of a knife like once [its fake yall dw] IM SORRY BUT LIKE I ALSO MADE THE END LIKE A WEE BIT SUGGESTIVE OK I COULDNT HELP MYSELF

"You aren't gonna get me this year, my love." Vox chuckled, taking a box of cereal from the pantry before leaving you standing there, dumbfounded.

You were hiding in the pantry at an ungodly hour of the morning just to scare your fiance, and he didn't even give a single flinch! You were dressed up as Ghost Face from the Scream franchise (which was his favourite set of horror movies) and you even had a fake knife in your hand, yet all he did was take a box of cereal from behind you and laugh.

"Ugh... Come on, not even one small reaction?" You huffed, taking off the mask to give him an annoyed pout. It was already nearing Halloween yet he still didn't give you any reactions about any of your scares.

"Honey, your face is too pretty to scare me." He said with a smirk, pulling your chin up to face him as he kissed your forehead lovingly. He would never admit it because he knew you'd probably stop doing it, but he thought you were so cute whenever you tried scaring him. As a 400-something year old demon, there is barely anything that'd give Vox a genuine scare nowadays, and you weren't one of those things. No matter what you try and come up with, nothing can get a spooked reaction from him. Though, there were a few times that he deemed 'pretty creative'.

"Don't try and flatter me, I'm trying to think of how to scare you." You turned your face away from him, pursing your lips as you came up with a different plan. He laughed heartily, putting the cereal box to the side and giving you a hug.

"I guess my little imp is still trying so desperately to scare me. I promise you, darling, all of this is futile~ I don't get scared by your adorable antics." He tapped your nose cheekily, using his other hand to rub your cheek. He was so fond of you, you might've thought he was falling more in love with you with every year that passed where you kept up with this tradition of attempts at scaring him (which wasn't off from the truth).

"One day, I'll get a scream out of you." She pressed on teasingly, kissing him on the lips.

"I can get a scream out of you any night, baby." Vox winked, holding your chin for a few moments as he let your mind wander on about his words...

[moonselune]

is minthara your fav companion? if so, why? i love seeing the reasons people pick their favs its so interesting :D

Ooof okay

TLDR: She is a badass and the type of character I wish was portrayed more in media especially when I was growing up. She is everything I aspire to be, strong confident girlboss and I relate to her heavily. And she's super fucking hot.

This explanation below could be triggering for some people so if you are not comfortable with CSA or CPTSD go look after yourself and watch the animated BG3 shorts xoxo

Sorry nonnie, you probably weren't expecting this 😂

So the reason I love Minthara so much is because she is my first significant encounter of female on female SA being represented, and the first I have related to a character so deeply.

I know the Orin stuff is never clarified and up for interpretation but it is fair to say Orin abused Minthara in some way. It is specifically the way Minthara copes is how I relate to her. She is angry, furious, she wants revenge, she is embarrassed/irritated that anyone could take advantage of her that way.

When I realised what was happening to me, I felt the same and that anger I felt was something that people around me didn't accept. They didn't like that I was reacting to it (which is insane I know but it's quite common) and they didn't like how angry I was. I was even called 'bloodthirsty', and it forever changed my relationships with family members.

I don't want to get into any specifics because it is something I have moved past and put the work in, and specifics won't help anyone lmao - so dw guys I'm good!

Anyways I am a very ambitious person and that part of me (used to) despised myself for letting that happen to me, to let it affect me. I was quickly assessed and they found that I had CPTSD, which is a lifelong mental disability, I had manage it there was no quick fix and there would never be a 'fix'.

(I would really recommend looking up the difference between CPTSD and PTSD as it they are commonly mixed up. Link here xox )

But I had an education to complete, university to get to, I had big plans. And eventually I did all that, I completed my education, and higher education and I have big plans.

If anyone is still reading they are probably like - what does this have to do with our lord and saviour miss sexy drow lady Minthara?

Well Minthara was the first woman I saw have a similar reaction to me, she was a mix of fury and shame, but her anger was so palpable I could really relate to it. And throughout it all she's like "yea so when I rule the underdark" or "when I take over this cult" and I'm just like fuck yeah you go!

Minthara has that awareness that yes this super fucked up thing happened to me and I am going to get my revenge, but I'm also going to take over the world so can we just get to it?

I could list the other million reasons why I love her but this is the main one. I have some artwork of her that I bought of etsy that I have hung up and whenever I'm feeling down I just look at her and go - what would our lord and saviour miss sexy drow lady Minthara do right now? (wwolasmsdlmdrn)

The answer would canonically probably be illegal but hey still fun to think about.

Anyway hope this kind of illuminates why Minthara is my favourite character, definitely not the response nonnie or anyone was expecting.

Of course this is all just based on my interpretation, and if anything you have read in this post has made you feel upset or a sort of way please reach out to appropriate services (not me I am not trained or equipped to help).

Love you all - Seluney xox

[randomsillyfangirl]

I think he knows - Pablo Gavi x Reader

Plot: listening to spotify and I Think He Knows comes on Warning: non, fluff ------------------------------------------------------------

You and Pablo were in your shared kitchen, making pancakes. Not for breakfast. Just because they're delicious. Then one of your favorite songs, I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift started playing.

" I think he knows his footprints on the sidewalk lead to where I can't stop go there every night " played from the speaker and you started humming along to the lyrics.

Pablo personally wasn't a big Taylor Swift fan. He didn't hate her. He just didn't really listen to her. But seeing your reaction he stopped what he was doing and watched you.

" I think he knows his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it's mine " you hummed along, while grabbing yourself a cup of water looking at Pablo asking Pablo if he wants a drink you he nodded.

" He got that boyish look that I like in a man " played through the speaker right as Pablo smiled at your offer.

The lyric " I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans " matched your living room coffee table, having a random architecture magazine for decoration played.

You and Pablo started dating when you were both seventeen, meeting since your dad's were friends. " It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands, no one understands "

" He got my heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue got that, oh! I mean wanna see what's under that attitude " you continued humming along, chuckling how much it matched your relationship with Pablo.

" Like, I want you, bless my soul and I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows, I think he knows, I think he knows " you turned around to face him, smiling and trying to see if he noticed he smiled back, signaling that he noticed too.

" When we get all alone I'll make myself at home and he'll want me to stay " played from the speaker as Pablo gently grabbed your hand and kissed is softly, even with the flower on it.

" I think he knows he better lock it down or I won't stick around 'cause good ones never wait " continued playing as you two looked into each others eyes, totally inlove. Until the pancakes started to burn.

" He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans he's so obsessed with me, and boy I understand boy I understand " was playing as you tried to clean up the mess the burnt pancakes made, honestly panicking abit and Pablo found it a little bit funny, because it wasn't anything crazy bad dw

Pablo decided to post a story of you on Instagram, with the lyric " He got my heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue got that, oh! I mean Wanna see what's under that attitude " playing

Later that day...

" Like, I want you, bless my soul and I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows, I think he knows I want you, bless my I want you, bless my I want you, bless my I want you, bless my soul " you hummed along while reading your book laying on the couch. Pablo noticed and put a sweet hand on your shoulder and kissed your cheek lovingly before going off to training.

In training...

Pablo could help but hum " Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh We can follow the sparks, I'll drive Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh We can follow the sparks, I'll drive So where we gonna go?" while doing drills.

His teammates found it hilarious, " our little Pablito is a swiftly? Really? " Pedri said and Pablo rolled his eyes, " my y/n likes this song- and it's stuck in my head, cabróns"

The lyrics " I whisper in the dark: Where we gonna go? I think he knows he got my heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue Got that, oh! I mean wanna see what's under that attitude " was running through Pablos mind. Why? Because it was his, your song. It was your relationships song.

As soon as Pablo turned on the car, the rest of your song started playing. " Like, I want you, bless my soul and I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows I think he knows" Pablo started singing along- in secret though, no one else would know that he knows the full song off by heart, thanks to you.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

i will add this info to my pinned post as i get myself more organized, but for now, here is a list of other public places online that you can for sure find me doing more or less what i do here in the event the lights go out here on tumblr:

while i am technically on not-twitter, i don't see myself migrating there from tumblr, so i'm not going to bother dropping a link to my account. if you really want it, you can pm me i guess lol

middlemarchingfic @ ao3, where i've been doing my fic-writing nonsense for years already;

thatswhatsushesaid @ bluesky; i've done literally nothing here yet but thank you very much to @missveryvery for the invite 🙏🙏🙏

ragweed @ plurk; this is a locked personal account that i use for staying in touch with dwrp people tho, so i may create a separate public one for fandom nonsense. still, if we're mutuals here, feel free to add me if you want;

middlemarching @ mastodon; i have no idea how this platform works slkfdjas but i'm here!!! let's go team!!

sibilantepicurean @ reddit; mostly i just lurk here and haven't done.. much of anything with the account, but maybe that will change.

i plan to create a dedicated dreamwidth account just for my mdzs-specific meta, shitposts and screencap art, but it's going to need a little bit of time to put together since i'm not sure at the moment how much cross-posting functionality exists between dw and tumblr. anyway once i figure out what i plan to do, i'll update my pinned post with the details.

[yes0another0outsiders0blog]

heeeyyy! it's me againn! <333 Wanted to know if I could get a matchup? (if not dw)

I'm an average heighted female with pale skin (literally it looks like fucking milk even in summer😭). I have long wavy dark brown hair that is somehow always messy. My eyes are a mix between grey, green and blue and nobody (not even me) can make out their exact colour for the life of theirs since it seems like they are changing colour (from the light and perspective) at every second.

I am straight, but I'm open minded to girls, probably because i literally lvoe girls so much platonically that It wouldn't surprise me being in a romantic or sexual relationship with one iykwim? But I would appreciate if you gave me a boyfriend for this match up! <33

I am very fond of the coquette style of clothing, I'm an hyperfeminine girly that loves to doll herself up. I'm talking full on short white lacy skirts with red heart-shaped sunglasses, cherry lipstick and pink tops with a white ribbon on my hair!

Moving onto my personality; I'm a very sweet girl, I'm the literal mom friend of every friend group I've ever been in. I never shy away from complimenting anything and everything about a person, someone got a new shirt today? "oh my god, that looks so good on you!", someone is trying a new hobby "that's great! tell me all about it!", someone tried a new hairstyle? "you look utterly gorgeous/handsome!" And I am totally babying and spoiling the youngests of the group. (literally giving them princess/prince treatment and even paying for them, lending them my things, making sure they've eaten, drank, etc).

I'm all up when it comes to nicknames, I don't care if you're a boy or a girl I'm opening my dictionary and calling you all the affectionate names written there. (I usually call friends baby, babygirl, babyboy, babes, babe, darl[ing], cutie, sweetcheeks, hottie). (with a partner I would go down more towards sweetstuff, hotstuff, honey, hun, love/luv, angelcakes, babycakes).

I consider myself as a very touchy person, I like to hold hands, hang onto someone's arm, legs/shoes touching while sitting, hugs (a lot of hugs) and cuddling! I love cuddling! /all of this both with platonic friends and romantic partners. Though I will back off and tone it down if someone's uncomfortable with so much physicall or verbal affection and resort to gift-giving (hand-made trinkets or small things that reminded me of that certain someone, etc) as love-language.

I am a very sensitive gal when it cames to being gifted something, I will fr tear up 😭. I literally cherish every little thing that my friends give me, even if it's a fucking bubble gum wrap paper, it's getting a spot in my 'memory box' lmao. ^^^hanging from being sensitive, I literally can not stand war documentaries/movies. I will cry my eyes out. I emphatise a lot, and I probably won't cry from what it's shown in the movie/documentary but on the thought of the family of those soldiers that were waiting for them only for them to never come back. (i totally didn't start bawling my eyes out in class while watching the 'rescue soldier ryan' or smth like that was called, my friends were fr so confused like- 😭)

I laugh at almost everything, and I consider myself pretty much easy-going, I'm okay with every and any kind of plan as long as it's with my friends.

Even if I'm sweet and have literally no idea how to even throw a punch, if someone tries to mess with my loved ones you bet your ass I'm gonna throw myself at them and try and do as much damage as I can, even if I end up with my face all bloodied and pretty much more hurt than the one I was trying to hurt 😭 (i just love my friends that much).

Also, don't know if it matters, but I can and will eat up horror books (and still completely refuse to watch the movie lmao, my brain is easily subsceptible and I would be scared shitless for a week). I'm talking all about Stephen King fashion, specially IT and Christine the cursed car or The Shining aswell.

As an addition, I'm an Elvis girlie, I literally listen to him on repeat the whole day long (obv. I listen to more artists but he is like the most prominent lmao) and you bet whatever you want that I'd be singing jailhouse rock as I clean the house and end up dancing with the broom. quite literally.

OMG IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH TEXT BUT I READ THAT YOU WORKED THE BETTER WITH AS MUCH LINES POSSIBLE AND I WENT AHEAD OF MYSELF SORRY FOR SO MUCH TEXT AND I HOPE U HAVE THE GREATEST DAY MWUAH MWUAH/platonically

Girl, yes, this is the perfect amount of text for a match-up!! Thanks for all of the information, definitely makes my job easier!

I ship you with...

Sodapop Curtis

First of all, he'd find you completely and utterly beautiful. Would make fun of you (lovingly) frequently for being milk-pale, and probably mess your hair up more by playing with it, but he would LOVE just staring into your eyes. Every time the light shifts, he tells you what color they are now, to the point of being annoying. "Oh, wow!! They're, like, REALLY gray now!!"

He'd also ADORE your sense of style. Soda's the type of boyfriend to think that every make-up look a partner does is a complete masterpiece, he'd ask questions as your doing it.

This dude is dealing with Ponyboy and Darry at each other's throats all the time, he'd probably love that you're such a mom-friend and feels so taken care of when they're being too much and he goes to you just to step away. He'd also probably ask for advice with dealing with Ponyboy because sometimes that kid is too emotional about things and Soda tries to be a good listener but maybe your perspective would be helpful since you're more sensitive as well?

With compliments and petnames, Soda is basically matching you. He is just a natural charmer, a pure flirt, and also just generally platonically affectionate. He thrives off of attention and compliments, and will definitely give back what he receives tenfold. People wonder if you even know each other's names based on how often yall go for nicknames. Neither of you will ever have any chance to feel insecure, you hype each other up like crazy. The physical affection is unreal, you two would practically be permanently attached to one another fr. He'd want you to come and hang out with him while he's at work whenever you can, and he'd just randomly give you little origami pieces that he made out of receipt paper or something. He'd just come over with it in his hands and the goofiest, most in love smile on his face saying "look, babe!! I made you a thing!!!"

Yall are the couple that everyone simultaneously wants to be and is disgusted by, you two are just so damn sweet and lovey. Giving bystanders full on cavities with that sugary sweet pda.

He's also one of the few I could see being 110% chill with a partner that's super platonically affectionate. He'd have ZERO issue with you cuddling and clinging to your friends.

Would sometimes be at a slight loss about just HOW empathetic you are, can't relate to the extent of your empathy, but he'll always listen when you need it. Whether you're down about personal stuff or because someone you know is going through something, or even just when you're feeling sad for a fictional character, he will definitely be there to cheer you up in any way he can.

You two would do a lot of group dates, hang out with the gang a lot, he'd be so happy to hang out and get to know your friends too. He's social as hell and gets along with basically everyone, it'd be great.

He'd just think that you're the cutest thing as you dance around as you clean.

I tried to use most of what you gave me. Hope you enjoyed!! You seem like such a genuinely lovely person, have the loveliest day, friend!!!!

[lotus-pear]

my opinion might not count since I don't publish [well used to but don't anymore] I think u should stick with what comes naturally for you. [Srry it's quite long]

I don't know anything abt readers preferences so I rather let the publishing writers speaking.

I'm a 3rd person writer so it comes naturally for me but: ➥ If 1st person comes more naturally then I'd advice to not change it to third person because it won't sound the same [imo] or might be wonky to you. Keep it this way, your writing style will shape itself instead of formating it for readers.

If you plan to write more in the future [publishing it or not] maybe exercise on 3rd person. But for a first fic, stick as it's more comfortable for you. Your fic will find it's audience dw no matter if it's in 1st or 3rd person pov.

It's just my [small] opinion so ppl who are posting/reading a lot of fics will probably help you more on some points.

OOO OK.... THIS ACTUALLY COMFORTS ME A LITTLE MORE but i rly do want to try and master tp since i myself hate reading anything in first unless it's like text msgs or smth LMAO💀💀 but this was reassuring to read ty for the advice :)