#minseok crack

[littleprincehyun]

The fans were asked to vote for which member they thought was most likely to help out when he sees someone carrying heavy things and baekhyun & sehun came last 😭💀

Baekhyun: *shouts* WHAT IS THAT?!

Sehun: *time out*

[minniedeer]

minseok: cute and he knows it. willingly acts cute despite being the oldest.

kyungsoo: forever in denial about being cute.

[eomayas]

exo getting caught simping for you

a/n: it’s ok to be a simp! some are suggestive (jongdae, baekhyun, sehun) this is a bit long btw!

minseok: “i miss you,” he says into the phone, cradling it to his ear. he can practically hear your smile when you respond with i miss you too. “what are you doing right now?” he asks, pulling the blanket closer to his chin and snuggling deeper in the bed. minseok wishes it was you that he was lying with, and not these hotel pillows.

“talking to you,” you reply cheekily. minseok giggles at this the way only a person in love would. “baby, you should probably get some sleep. you have a show tomorrow.” you say and he sighs, his bottom lip jutting out slightly.

“but i want to talk to you!” he whines, somewhat like a child would. you only scoff and tell him that he can call you in the morning after he’s had some rest. “fine. i love you, honey!” he says, just as the hotel door opens and jongin and baekhyun walk in, jongin making a face at him and baekhyun laughing.

“i love you, honey!” jongin mocks, bursting into a fit of giggles. “is that jongin?” you ask, amusement in your voice.

minseoks cheeks turn red. “yes, goodnight, y/n,” he says, rushing to get off of the phone.

“don’t hang up on me!” you say, letting out a light laugh at his embarrassment.

“y/n,” he groans, burying his face into the pillow. jongin and baekhyun are quietly waiting for him to say something so cheesy and incriminating, so that they can use it against him later.

you giggle and sigh. “alright. goodnight minseokie, i love you. tell jongin i love him too,” you say, blowing him a kiss into the phone before hanging up. minseok would have blown one back, but he is already getting mocked by his younger members and can’t handle the teasing he’s going to get for the next few days.

“minseokie!” baekhyun yells, making smooching sounds at him. jongin giggles and joins in, the two men jumping onto his bed and shouting the nickname and pretending to be you on the phone.

minseok wishes he was dead.

junmyeon: “please don’t leave,” your boyfriend groans, burying his face into your neck, holding you close to him. you rub your hands up and down his back soothingly. “come with?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you with wide eyes.

“no,” you say, punctuating it with a kiss. suho let’s out a groan and a fake cry, and you laugh. “you’re such a baby.” you say, running your hands through his hair.

“yours,” he says quietly, and you smile, squeezing him tightly before patting his back and telling him that he needs to get ready to leave. junmyeon stands up straight and looks down at you, a dejected look i’m his face.

“oh my god, you’re so dramatic!” you say, and he cracks a small smile. you gently whack him on the chest and clutches your hand in his, settling it over his heart. “it’s only a few days.” you say, rubbing his forearm with your free hand.

junmyeon juts out his bottom lip slightly. “i dont know what i’ll do without you,” he says, and a brief snort makes you both perk up and look around for culprit, finding sehun wheeling his suitcase behind him.

“you’re so dramatic,” sehun says to junmyeon, laughing at his leader and older friend. junmyeons face sobers, turning bright red at his youngest member making fun of him and seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

“go away,” junmyeon all but whines and stomps his foot as he says it, making you giggle at him. he rolls his eyes at you and you wave goodbye to sehun who (for once) listens to what junmyeon tells him to do. “this isn’t funny.”

“it kind of is,” you say, grabbing his hands and pulling him closer to you. he continues to pout, even after you cradle his face in your hands and smush his cheeks together. “i love you, junmy.” you say. he only hums in response and you gasp, letting go of him. “say it back, asshole!”

he smiles and pulls you back towards him. “i love you, y/n,” he says, his voice sincere. junmyeon puts his hands on your hips and leans down to your level, brushing his nose with yours. he gets close to your lips and you pull back slightly.

“i’m gonna miss you,” you whisper, looking into his eyes. he gives you a soft smile, and this time you let him kiss you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. it’s probably too intimate of a kiss for public, but neither of you show any signs of caring.

“we’re leaving without you!” minseok and jongin shout, breaking up your kiss with your man. junmyeon sighs and goes back to pouting almost immediately, and you gently push him away from you and towards his group members who are starting to board the jet. “hurry up, lover boy!” minseok shouts before disappearing into the jet.

“go,” you say, pulling away from him at last. junmy sighs again, finally starting to head towards the jet, looking over his shoulder at you dramatically like they do in the movies. you giggle at that and wave once he gets up to the door of the plane. “i love you!” you shout, and rather than getting a response from him, the rest of the exos shout. “i love you too!”

baekhyun: you smile at your boyfriend on facetime as he hums absentmindedly. he’s looking away from the camera, and you get a nice view of his side profile. “baek,” you say, resting the side of your head in your palm.

“hmm?” he says and turns to the camera, a soft smile on his face. you smile back at him, hearts probably taking the shape of your eyes.

“i love you,” you say, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. he smiles wide, showing his teeth and making his eyes crinkle.

“i love you too,” he says. you hear a door open on his side, and he turns around to greet whoever it is. “hey, junmyeon. say hi to y/n.” he says, moving the camera to show his leader. junmyeon crosses him arms over his his bare chest, trying to shield himself from you.

“hi, y/n. sorry i’m not dressed, i just showered,” he says apologetically.

“it’s alright,” you reply.

“what do you mean it’s alright?” baekhyun shouts, turning the camera back to his face, sporting an incredulous expression.

you roll your eyes. “you know what i meant,” you say.

“you should only be alright with seeing me naked,” baekhyun says.

“i’m more than okay with that,” you say, and he smiles. he pretends to lift his shirt up, and junmyeon yells at him to stop, not while he’s still digging for his pajamas. you only giggle and add, “you can get naked whenever.”

“can you wait a second!?” junmyeon yells, frantically digging around his bag for his clothing so he can lock himself in the bathroom and get away from you and baekhyun.

jongdae: “you know i miss you,” you say into the phone, a hand on your chest, right over your heart where jongdae lives.

“yeah? how much?” he asks teasingly, a big smile on his face. he leans his shoulder into the wall and crosses one leg behind the other.

“a lot,” you reply, unable to contain your smile. so far, every conversation you’ve had with him since he’s been gone on tour. "she misses you too." you add coolly, biting the inside of your cheek.

jongdae's cheeks tinge pink and he looks down at the floor. "yeah?" he manages, putting a hand on the back of his neck, his face only getting redder at the thought of you. its been too long since hes had you.

"mhm. we miss you a lot."

he only smiles to himself and says "both of you can show me how much when i get back," just as the door to the practice room opens and kyungsoo enters, his eyes narrowed in jongdae's direction. when jongdae blushes bright red at getting caught, kyungsoo raises his eyebrows, a knowing smirk on his face. "baby, i gotta go." he says, clearing his throat and straightening his posture.

on the other line, you frown. "fine. but you are upsetting us." jongdae glances over at kyungsoo who has taken a seat on the floor, preoccupied with his phone.

"i'll make it up to you," he says, turning his back to kyungsoo's direction. "swear i will. just be good." he says lowly, already embarrassed from kyungsoo walking in on the both of you having borderline phone sex.

"don't know if i can do that, dae. we really miss you. she's getting lonely; nothing feels as good as you do," you sigh, resting your head on the couch pillow.

jongdae forces himself to think about anything other than your words in order to stop a tent from forming in his pants. "kyungsoo is here," he mutters, many minutes too late.

you gasp. "oh my god, jongdae! can he hear me?" you panic, irritated that he let it get that far with an audience.

"i dont think so?" your fiancee replies, his voice unsure.

"oh my god, bye, jongdae," you say, and hang up before he can get another word in. jongdae lets out a breath and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to rid his brain of images of you on top and underneath him.

turning around and sliding his phone back into his pocket, jongdae starts walking over to kyungsoo. kyungsoo lifts his eyes from his phone at the sound of jongdaes footsteps and says, "you should really turn your phone volume down," making jongdae stop in his tracks get insanely red in the face, embarrassment flooding his body.

chanyeol: "wait, listen to this real quick," chanyeol says, scrolling through his laptop to find the track he had showed you a few weeks ago. he's changed a few things and added more drums and a flute--he really values your opinion on his music and wants you to hear what hes made.

you wait patiently for him to click play. the opening notes make you smile as you remember the way you told him he should let them play before he stacks them and blends the sounds together. "replay that part," you say when you hear something new.

chanyeol rewinds a few seconds and presses play before asking, "this part?"

you listen and gasp when you hear it again. "yes! pause it!" you shout over the phone. "did you add a violin?" you ask, a smile on your face.

chanyeol smiles at the phone, impressed with the way you've enhanced your musical knowledge and have noticed little things, like the violin strings that are stacked behind drums. "i did," he says, proudly.

you sigh in awe of him. "yeolie you're so... you're so cool," you gush, like a little schoolgirl talking to her crush. everything about chanyeol amazes you and makes you smile, and yes, maybe it’s because you’re in love with him, but you also would like to think that it would be this way even if you weren’t, if you were just friends or some fan.

chanyeol can’t help but blush at your words, the tips of his ears turning red in the way that you love. “aw, he’s blushing!” jongin says, taking the phone away from chanyeol to tell you. you smile, your heart swelling at the image your brain conjures up.

“are his ears turning red?” you ask and chanyeol yells in protest, only making his blush deepen.

“of course,” jongin replies, ducking out of reach when chanyeol swings to hit him. you only giggle and sigh, feeling mildly upset that you are not there to witness one of you favorite things ever.

“give me back my phone!” chanyeol says, reaching around jongin for it, but the younger man is too quick and gets out of the desk chair and crosses the studio in record time.

“you know, he’s made, like, four songs for you. i don’t know why he didn’t show you one of those,” he says, a devilish grin on his face, though he’s telling the truth. at this admission, chanyeol launches himself from his seat. “i’m sorry! please! here, take it back!” he pleads, holding out his phone for chanyeol to take back and shielding his body from the blows that don’t come.

“shut the fuck up,” chanyeol groans at jongin, taking the phone off speaker and it putting it to his ear. “ignore him.” he says to you, running a hand through his hair.

“…so you didn’t write four songs for me?” you question. chanyeol bites the inside of his cheek, not ready to admit that yes, he did write four songs for you, most of which have lyrics that he hasn’t let anybody hear. “yeol.”

“hmm?” he says, settling back into his chair at the engineering table, his face burning. you smile, because you’ve got your answer.

kyungsoo: you run your hands over kyungsoo's newly shaved head, grimacing a bit when you run your hands the opposite direction of the cut and the follicles prick your fingers. "you don't like it?" he asks after seeing your face.

"i love it, actually. just feels weird," you say, dragging your hands down to the sides of his face and smiling down at him. kyungsoo gives you a small smile. he turns his head to the side and kisses the inside of your palm, your heart melting in your chest. "hi." you say shyly, kyungsoo leaning into your touch.

he smiles up at you, his eyes crinkling around the edges. "hi, pretty," he says, and you could just die. you remove your hands from the sides of his face and put them on his shoulders and adjust yourself in his lap so you are fully facing him and your legs are on either side of him, knees resting on the couch. kyungsoo laces his hands together behind your back, loosely holding you against him. “you look really pretty today.”

“just today?”

kyungsoos cheek turn a light shade of pink. “always,” he says, you smile at him and lean down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. the door to the lounge opens, and all 7 of the exos walk in loudly.

“y/n!” they shout when they see you on kyungsoos lap, making kyungsoo and you pull apart resignedly. irritation is etched on your boyfriends face at the interruption, and you gently pinch his cheek before moving to turn around.

“hi, you gu- kyungsoo, let me get up,” you say when he holds you tightly on his lap, making you turn around uncomfortably to greet the other members. at your request, kyungsoo let’s you get up with a sigh, holding onto the back of your skirt so you don’t accidentally flash the men behind you. “you guys did great tonight!” you compliment when you’re finally standing up and facing them.

a conversation breaks out, and you don’t notice when you lean against the couch and drape your arm over kyungsoos shoulder, gently stroking the side of his face. you both hold hands with your free one, and he rubs the inside of your palm with his thumb.

it’s only when you notice chanyeol cut his eyes at you and kyungsoo being so clingy that you smile. “kyungsoo, i’ve never seen you act like this!” he says, his eyes wide.

“like what?” kyungsoo asks absentmindedly, looking up at you with eyes that make your knees weak and your heart beat faster.

“so cheesy, and-“ kyungsoo snaps his head to look at chanyeol, daring him to finish his sentence. chanyeol closes his mouth, a nervous smile on his face just from a look from kyungsoo alone. the other members wait in silence, as do you, with amusement on their face, waiting for chanyeol to continue and claim his fate or to surrender. “never mind.” he says, waving kyungsoo off.

a collective giggle is let out in the room, and kyungsoo looks up at you with wide eyes, unaware of the effect he has on people.

jongin: “here,” jongin says softly, holding out his fork in front of your face. you try to take it out of his hands and he pulls it back, shaking his head. “let me do it.” he says, a shy smile on his face.

you comply and open your mouth, letting him feed you. “is it good?” he asks, watching you with so much love in his eyes it’s slightly overwhelming. you nod and give him a thumbs up, swallowing the food. jongin smiles and gives you a soft kiss on your lips.

this goes for the rest of the night; he’ll present food in front of your face and wait for you to open up to feed you, ask you if it’s good, and then kiss you. it’s sweet, really, and you don’t think anything of it, even after the rest of the exos join you for your meal.

sometimes you feed jongin, but most of the time he steals it off your plate or you put it on his. it becomes second nature for you both. “ooh, let me try that,” you say, pointing to the dessert that kyungsoo places down in front of jongin. your boyfriend cuts off a piece, giving you the first bite.

you accept the food and your eyes widen as you taste it. “kyungsoo, this is really good!” you say after you chew and swallow. he gives you a kind smile and thanks you.

jongin already has another bite of food waiting for you when you turn back to ask him, and you accept it with a smile on your face. he can only smile back, resisting the urge to grab your face and just kiss you until the sun rises, his group members be damned.

the man made sound of a whip cracking makes you and jongin snap your head in the direction, eyes falling on jongdae, minseok, baekhyun, and junmyeon all giggling, or holding back laughs. you smirk and look over at jongin, who wears an annoyed expression. “whatever,” he mumbles. you rub his back and he leans into you, making the situation worse because even kyungsoo joins in on the teasing, pantomiming cracking a whip and making the noise as well.

sehun: you cage your arms around him and put your chin on the center of his chest, looking up at him. sehun looks down at you with a small smile. “you’re cute,” he says, and if his arms weren’t pressed so tightly against his sides he’d boop your nose.

“so are you,” you say to him, loosening your hold around him and instead wrapping your arms around his waist.

“i know,” he says, and you roll your eyes. sehun moves hair out of your face and leans down to place a kiss on your lips. “cmon, let’s finish.” he says, sliding out of your grip. the two of you had choreographed a dance to a song you both liked, and had been using the exo practice room for a few hours now.

you nod and he jogs over to the speaker to play the song again, and then comes back to get into the starting position. you watch yourself in the mirror as you hit all of the moves, your feet feeling like they barely touch the floor. sehun watches you too, getting lost in the way that you move so freely, like you’re weightless and gravity isn’t any concern of yours.

he misses a few steps and you notice, smirking at him through the mirror. “keep up, lover boy,” you say, doing the last few moves as the song comes to a close. you wipe your sweaty forehead with the hem of your shirt, and sehun comes over to you, just as the door to the practice room opens. you turn and wave at jongdae, and he greets you and sehun with a wave, his phone pressed to his ear.

sehun takes this moment to pull you closer to him by your shirt. you let out a light laugh at him, and awkwardly keep your hands off of him because youre both sweaty. “i’m all gross,” you say.

“me too,” and he leans down and kisses you, his hands sticking to your skin through your shirt. you hold onto his arms, cringing at the feeling of sticky skin on sticky skin, and pull away.

“it’s too gross,” you say, making a face. sehun frowns at you, and you have to hold back a smile.

“you think i’m gross?”

“when we’re both sweaty? yes,” you say say, putting your hands on your hips.

“i like you when you’re sweaty,” sehun replies. “i like you when you’re all dirty.” he adds, making you exclaim in protest and draw the attention of jongdae, who just gives you both a disgusted look.

[noforkingclue]

So, if you fine with yandere and "The Boys", then what about the obsessed father and son, who really want Y/n to become part of "their family"? Homelander and Ryan saw you as their ideal wife and mom, and now, they are literally everywhere. They have completely filled your whole life. These two are not taking their eyes off you, they want you completely for themselves. Ryan wants you to be his mom, John wants you to be his. They both want you to adore them.

Note: requests are currently closed

Yep, I'm fine with writing dark fics! My very first full length fic was a dark one so I have no issue writing for it.

Hope you like the fic!

Title: Happy Family

Warnings: dark fic, implied future forced pregnancy, Homelander

The Boys tag list: @captainofmybigwetdream, @scraftsku35, @zannemes, @holy-minseok

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“Mum!”

Ryan ran towards you and wrapped his arms tightly around you. It was like being squeezed by a vice and when you tried to pry him off all you did was cause him to tighten his grip. Ryan looked up at you with sad eyes and you quickly looked away. He used to be such a sweet child and then Homelander got his hands on him. A strong hand gripped your shoulder and you swore you felt your bone creek under its grip.

“That’s right Mum,” Homelander’s voice was like honey, “Run along now champ. Mum and I need to have a little chat.”

“Ok!”

Ryan gave you one last squeeze before running off into the garden. You rubbed your side but Homelander quickly ushered you back into the house. Well, more like practically dragged you. He let you go and you stumbled forward, grabbing hold of the kitchen counter to prevent you from falling to the floor. You would not allow yourself to cower at his feet.

“So,” Homelander said, eventually shattering the silence, “I thought this was settled.”

“What do you mean?”

Homelander waved his hand at the surroundings. Admittedly, they were very luxurious. There would be no way in hell that you’d ever be able to afford all of this. Unfortunately, the price that came with it was not one you wanted to pay. However, Vought seemed willing enough to pay that price for you whether you wanted them to or not.

“Don’t lie to me, dear.”

“I never would. Not to you.”

In a flash Homelander has his hand curled around your neck. He slammed you against the wall and pushed his fingers against your neck. You grasped his hand, desperate for him to let go. All you managed to do was to cause Homelander to grin and press his forehead against yours.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he whispered, “You’re lying to me. I told you not to lie to me.”

“Let her go!”

Suddenly Homelander was pushed away from you. Ryan was glaring at him and had his arms tightly wrapped around you again.

“You promised,” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly, “You promised you wouldn’t hurt Mum again.”

You put your on to of Ryan’s head and gently patted it. Ryan pressed his face against your stomach and you couldn’t help but feel vaguely relieved that he was there. Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t saved you. Homelander’s expression faltered for a second before his smile returned.

“It’s ok,” he said, ruffling Ryan’s hair, “Mum and I were just having a little… chat that’s all.”

“You were?”

“Home-“

Homelander gave you a steely look and you said,

“John, listen. We need to talk about this. I’m not Ryan’s mother.”

Deadly silence followed. Homelander’s smile becoming stiff and didn’t quite reach his eyes and you heard Ryan sniff.

“Dad said-“

“It’s ok Ryan,” Homelander pulled Ryan towards him and put his hands on his shoulders, “It’s unfortunate but some people hold these views.”

“What views?” you asked desperately

Homelander pouted mockingly and said,

“That to be your mother you have to have given birth.”

“What? I don’t believe that!”

“Then why do you keep saying that you’re not my mum?” asked Ryan

“Because…. It’s just… you see…”

“I think what Mum means is that she needs time,” Homelander’s manic grin returned, “But it’s ok. Once you have a sibling this will be easily mended.”

[qarl-grimes]

Little Secrets: Three (Final)(Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader)

A/N: absolutely shooketh at the feedback i’ve gotten to part one and two of this little story. i can’t thank you all enough. alicent may be a little ooc, but for the sake of this story, she is. here’s part three!

Synopsis: She’s his sisters handmaiden, Highborn, but not high enough. He’s a Prince of the House of the Dragon, destined to marry someone of higher birth than her. This, them, can be their secret for just a little bit longer.

Warnings: 18+.

For the purpose of this story, the Readers House has been entirely made up by me. In the ASOIAF books, highborn handmaidens sometimes also serve as handmaidens and companions to noble ladies in the household of their overlords or at the royal court. It is important to note that the Readers House is fairly low.

Reader will be female, but her physical appearance will not be described.

I have tagged that who wanted to be! :)

@moonmaiden1996 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @snixx2088 @alexameliamg @wasntpriscilla @demure-doll @m1ndbrand @tea-effect @novazoldyck @thesadvampire @hangrymama @holy-minseok @highexpectationsgurl​ 

Parts One and Two here.

Your palms are sweating.

It’s to be expected, really, with the way the Queen is looking at you. There is not surprise on her expression, no, but a cold fury that curls into disappointment when she turns sharply to face her second youngest son. 

‘I had hoped this dalliance would have ended by now, Aemond’.

You breathe in sharply and look to the floor. She knew, then. For all your sneaking and pleased little smiles at evading the Queen, she had known all along. 

‘I will marry her, mother’. You look at him, chest fluttering at the determination set into Aemond’s tone. ‘With your and fathers permission or not, Y/N will become a Targaryen and, in turn, Princess. We will flee to Dragonstone on Vhagar and return only where this a babe-’

‘Aemond!’ The Queen snaps, finally, her hands flying to her forehead in frustration. She glowers at her son. ‘Your father will fade soon enough. Your brother is a menace to the Red Keep. Not to mention the issues with the Driftmark Throne. Do you not think this family has enough to deal with?’ She hisses. 

Aemond opens his mouth to speak again, not even slightly cowed by his mother. You, of course, speak when you are not supposed to. ‘I will be loyal to your son, your grace,’ you begin, voice cracking just slightly. You swallow and hold her gaze when she turns to you, brown eyes impatient. ‘I may be from a minor House, but I will be as good a wife as any to your son. Better, even. I love him’. You mouth lifts. ‘And not a childish love. A true love. I would die for him, and he for me. In such times,’ you add carefully. ‘Is such loyalty so easy to come by?’

The Queen stares at you for a very long moment, her lips pursed and her breaths short. With a sharp sigh, she waves Aemond’s way. ‘Leave. I need to think’. You go to leave, whereas Aemond reminds unwavering. ‘I will call you with my decision, Aemond. Go’.

You look at Aemond as you turn and, judging from the smirk on his face, you guess that you look white as a sheet. You had stood up to members of the Kings Guard, but it was the Queen who made you sweat with fear. Ser Criston allows you leave, pulling the door aside for you.

‘Seven Hells,’ you breathe, once in the safety of the corridor. 

Aemond’s hands finds your forearm, and he turns you to face him. His lilac eye glints. ‘Yes,’ he muses. ‘Mother can be quite a force. Aegon all but cries when she unleashed her terror on him’.

You scoff at the image, before tugging Aemond toward the archway, where the Queen’s private courtyard opens. It is a small garden, barely larger than the room you had just been in, but it was quiet. ‘She does not seem as if she will agree, Aemond’. You sigh. ‘It looks as if a visit to the Free Cities is imminent’.

Aemond scoffs, hands sliding up your arms to rest on your jaw, forcing you to look at him. ‘She will agree,’ he murmurs, intense in his own way.

You frown. ‘That was your mother being agreeable?’

‘No,’ Aemond speak softly. ‘That was my mother realising that she has lost’.

Exciting twists inside of you, but you narrow your gaze all the same. ‘You’re sure?’ Aemond nods with a smirk. ‘Thank the Seven. I think watching my throw up the entire ride to Essos would have put you off the idea of marrying me at all’.

Aemond smirks. ‘You seemed well enough last night’.

You open your mouth to reply, but suddenly realise the position the two of you are in. Anyone could walk past, including Helaena. You wanted to inform the girl yourself, not have her find Aemond all but caressing your face-

‘Prince Aemond, Lady Y/N’.

You wrench yourself away from Aemond out of habit, finding Ser Criston standing beneath the archway of the courtyard. ‘The Queen is ready to see you’. The Knight looks from you to Aemond, the man he had all but trained to be a fine fighter, and his mouth lifts just slightly. ‘Come’.

The Queen faces you when you enter, her expression pinched and her gaze watchful. She speaks only to Aemond, and her voice is anything but joyous. ‘You will marry, Aemond. I have no doubt that you give me little choice. I will not have a handmaiden sully your sisters honour with her own lack of-’

Aemond pulls you back just slightly, his lips lifting into a slight snarl. ‘Careful, mother’.

You bristle but fight down the need to defend yourself. You had given yourself to Aemond fully, but always with the intention of making him your only. Who was the Queen to condemn you for that? Well, you suppose. She is the Queen.

‘I love Helaena,’ you say, despite yourself. ‘I would never want to sully her honour, your grace’.

The Queen turns to you. Jaw clenched; she dips her head. ‘I have no doubt that is true, but that does not deny the danger you put yours and her honour into. Who do you think the courts would believe, should your honour come into question?’

Aemond straightens up. ‘Do you believe me the kind of man who would not defend her honour, mother, since I am the one who took it?’

‘Aemond!’ you snap, wide eyed and warm with embarrassment. ‘Seven Hells, must you?’

Aemond’s glances sulkily at you with his one eye. ‘I apologise, my love’.

The Queen watches you with a queer expression. ‘Leave us, Aemond,’ she says suddenly, turning sharply toward a small table stacked with goblets. ‘Seven Hells, Aemond, leave us for a few minutes, would you?’ she snaps, when her son makes no movement.

Relenting, he casts you a glance and slinks from the room, Ser Criston pulling the door closed behind him.

‘I never thought my son would want to marry, Lady Y/N,’ the Queen begins, handing you a half full goblet of red wine. You sip it the moment it is in your hand, desperate for something to numb your nerves. You swallow and nod.

‘I can understand why, you grace. Prince Aemond prefers the company of swords to most, I am aware’. The joke falls flat, and the Queen considers you over the goblets she twirls between her fingers.

‘Hmm,’ she hums. ‘But you are sharp, aren’t you?’

You snort before you can quite stop yourself, sobering to say, ‘Apologies, you grace. Aemond has said the same in jest before’. You look at her, willing her to speak, but the silence stretches. ‘I understand that I am lowborn, Queen Alicent. My House is small and meaningless, and my Lord father offers little in bannermen and coin. But I was not lying before – I will be loyal to Aemond. I will bare his children and I will love him. I won’t let anyone hurt him’.

The Queen smirks, and you understand where Aemond gets the look from. ‘When he was born, I swore the same, as I swear when all of my children were born’.

You think of Aemond’s long scar, the skin puckered and sitting where his other lilac eye should be. You have never known him without the scar. ‘Were we women permitted to pick her weapons, your grace, I would be quite tempted to return the sentiment to Aemond’s nephews’.

She looks as if, for a split moment, she might smile. ‘That is a treasonous statement, Lady Y/N’.

‘It is the truth,’ you return simply.

She dismisses you soon after, and you all but deflate into Aemond’s arms on the other side of the door. ‘Congratulations are in order, my Prince,’ Ser Criston remarks, but to Aemond’s amusement. Aemond scoffs and leads you away, his chin dipped to look at you.

‘Well?’

‘We will marry,’ you breathe, mouth stretching into a grin as you look up at him. ‘We will marry, Aemond. I must tell Helaena before word breaks, of course-’

‘I have not wanted to tell you this, for fear of you smacking me as you often do when I lie to you, but I believe that my sister is very much aware of us, Y/N’. Your grin turns to a gape, and Aemond smirks. ‘She is smart, my sister, you know this’.

‘I-I know that! But how-’

Aemond kisses you soundly, his smirk solid against your mouth, and laugh into the kiss, palm smacking lightly on his back until he pulls away from you. ‘We will marry,’ you grin. 

‘We will marry,’ Aemond agrees, a smile a little less lethal and a little more content gracing his sharp features. 

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 14: Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas

Fandom: EXO

Sickie: Xiumin (flu)

Caregiver(s): EXO

Word Count: 1,916

Notes: Just me self-indulgently whumping my ult bias, no big deal

Minseok woke up to a cool, gentle hand pressed against his cheek. He peeled his eyes open to find Junmyeon kneeling next to him.

“Hey, hyung.” The hand moved to his hair. Minseok hummed, acknowledging his friend, before his eyes closed again. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad.” His voice felt like it was coming from somewhere else. It was too quiet, too hoarse and feeble to be his own. 

Junmyeon hummed at that, his hand scratching softly against Minseok’s cheek. “I know, love. But we’re here now. We’ve got you.” He gently pulled the comforter back, much to Minseok’s dismay, a small moan of distress escaping his throat. The leader frowned in sympathy, moving as fast as possible without jostling the older man too much, completely stripping the covers from his body. “I know, it’s cold out here, but we gotta get you out of this bed. Come on, we’ve got a bath ready for you.” Minseok squinted up at him, lips parting once, twice, as if he wanted to ask a question. But that question kept winking in and our of his brain. Junmyeon, ever patient, at least with his Minseokie-hyung, smiling encouragingly. “Everyone’s here, love. We’re here for you. Let us help.” He held out both hands, and Minseok accepted them. Once on his feet, despite his knees quaking like jello, Minseok seemed the slightest bit more coherent, leaning only slightly against Junmyeon as the leader led him towards the bathroom. 

Chanyeol was waiting inside, bathtub already filled with water that was gently steaming. Minseok nodded, as if having a conversation with himself, as he slowly attempted to slip his shirt off. His arms were shaking too much, and after three attempts of letting him try on his own, Junmyeon stepped in, swiftly but tenderly undoing the buttons on his pajama top and pulling it off. The leader made eye contact, waiting for a nod from Minseok before helping him slip out of his pants and guiding him towards the tub. 

Once in the tub, the warm water enveloping his aching body, Minseok’s eyes slipped closed again. Another small sound escaped him, this one of contentment, as Chanyeol’s fingers began to work through his hair. 

The rapper chuckled, the noise deep and comforting. “You sound like Tobin,” he joked. Minseok smiled at that. “I have better behavior, though.” His voice still sounded so alien to his ears. 

Chanyeol laughed again, comforted by his hyung’s joke. “There’s no doubt about that.” Minseok smirked to himself, his body melting under the rapper’s strong, careful hands. As the aching tension left his muscles, his mind began to wander down paths he couldn’t even begin to follow if he wanted to. 

Minseok was snapped back to reality when he heard the bathroom door open, footsteps crossing the tiles towards them. He knew a hand dipped into the water by the small splash and the feeling of the ripples against his ribs. That hand reached for his below the water, fingers interlacing together as said hand was brought to rest on the lip of the tub. Minseok relaxed instantly. Jongdae. 

“How is he?” the vocalist whispered. Minseok considered telling him that he could hear just fine and could answer for himself. But that thought was quickly muddled in the haze of warmth created by the fever and the bath. 

“He cracked a joke earlier, so that’s gotta count for something,” Chanyeol relayed. “But his skin’s on fire still.” His fingers were still working through Minseok’s hair, and the elder knew they had to be close to done. Either that or his sense of time was totally fucked. 

“What happened when you and Baekhyun got here earlier?” 

“He was already back in bed when we showed up. When Baek went looking for the thermometer, he found a post-it note next to the Nyquil with a time on it, so at least we knew he was medicated and not concussed. The cats were not pleased with us, though. Ron kept following his around, and Tan’s tail was doing that fast back and forth thing. I think they’re really worried about him.”

Jongdae hummed, his thumb rubbing back and forth across Minseok’s knuckles. “Damn, hyung. Even got your cats’ all wound up. You don’t do anything by halves, do you?” Minseok shook his head, and he heard both Jongdae and Chanyeol chuckle softly. 

Minseok wasn’t sure how he got out of the bath, mind once again lost on a hazy adventure, but it must’ve gone incredibly smooth given that Chanyeol and Jongdae were still having a completely normal conversation when he tuned back into the present, wrapped in a towel with clothes held in front of his face. 

“You want help getting dressed?” Chanyeol asked gently. Minseok nodded. His limbs felt a little less shaky now, but he knew better than to fully trust them right now. He was, however, much more successful at getting dressed on his own than he had been disrobing earlier. 

The clothes now on his body, though, were setting off alarm bells in his brain. 

“These aren’t mine,” Minseok mumbled, pulling at the hem of the t-shirt. 

“Yes they are. Your old ones are in the laundry, or at least they will be soon. I don’t know how productive the guys were since we’ve been with you,” Jongdae replied, smoothing his hands over Minseok’s arms. 

“But…” He pulled at the hem of the shirt again. “This is just a t-shirt.” 

“Is there a problem with that?” Jongdae was trying very hard not to laugh. Minseok shrugged. Jongdae looked to Chanyeol for an assist. 

“Would it change your mind if I told you I brought you one of my hoodies?” the taller man asked. Minseok’s eyes widened a bit as he nodded with more energy then they’d seen out of him yet. “Okay, be right back. It’s the light blue, hyung, your favorite.” Jongdae continued to rub his hands up and down Minseok’s arms as they waited. 

“How are you feeling?”

Minseok shrugged again, still playing with the hem of his shirt. “Weird. Everything feels… cloudy.” Jongdae frowned sympathetically, one hand carding through the older man’s bangs. 

Chanyeol barreled into the doorway, holding up the hoodie triumphantly. Minseok gasped excitedly, taking the soft material in his hands. Without asking, or being asked, Jongdae helped him slip the hoodie over his head. Chanyeol smiled, watching his hyung practically melt with joy at the comfort of the sweater. He held out a hand, and Minseok took it without hesitation, letting himself be led wherever Chanyeol had in mind. 

Which was back into his bedroom. Where the bed had been entirely stripped down to the mattress. Minseok blinked.

Jongin appeared at his side (how did he move so fast?) “Hyung, don’t panic! We’re washing your sheets for you!” The dancer’s grip on Minseok’s arm grounded him back to reality. 

"We couldn’t find your extra sheets, though,” Sehun admitted. “So we figured we could move you to the couch for a bit, until the laundry’s done. Or the guest room…”

“No, couch, cause he has to eat, and Minseokie-hyung doesn’t like it when we eat in bed, so I doubt he’d do it himself,” Jongin interrupted, shooting a look at Sehun. The younger man held up his arms in surrender. 

Minseok did not fully remember how he got from his bedroom to the living room. He did not remember Chanyeol catching him when his knees giving out halfway there, nor how Sehun had swooped to his other side and helped carry him to the couch. He did not remember Baekhyun hugging him before the others could stop him, the vocalist refusing to leave until Minseok was settled on the couch and wrapped under Baekhyun’s own favorite blanket. He did not remember Jongdae slipping in behind him on the couch, nor Jongin slipping him one of his favorite stuffed bears.

In fact, the next thing he was fully aware of was sitting on his couch, snuggled safe in Jongdae’s arms, buried in Chanyeol’s hoodie and Baekhyun’s blanket, Jongin’s plushie tucked next to him, Kyungsoo busy in his kitchen, the house kept in order by Junmyeon and Sehun. At the sudden realization of his members’ love physically engulfing him, Minseok felt a radiant sense of warmth that made his chest ache in a way that quieted the pains of the flu. 

“Why?” he asked quietly, almost to himself. 

“Why what, love?” Jongdae, the only one close enough to hear, threaded his fingers through Minseok’s hair, smoothing from his forehead to behind his ears. 

“Why are you all doing this?” 

Jongdae chuckled softly. “Because we love you, dummy.”

“Seriously. You take care of us all the time.” Minseok started at Junmyeon’s voice, unaware that the room had gone silent and all eyes were now turned to him. “Why wouldn’t we return the favor?”

“And your clean freak immune system is usually too strong for us to return the favor, so we have to jump on any opportunity we get,” Chanyeol added. 

“Yeah, you scared us pretty good, too, hyung,” Baekhyun added with a slight shake of his head. “Do you remember Yeollie calling you? After rehearsal?” It was Minseok’s turn to shake his head. “When the rest of us went to practice straight from the airport, and the managers brought you straight here, Chanyeol and I called to check on you during our lunch break. You passed out on us. Like, went from vertical to horizontal passed out.” 

Minseok’s brow furrowed at that. “I… what?”

“Not the time for creative word play, hyung.” Kyungsoo nudged Baekhyun’s shoulder. “You fainted, Minseokie-hyung. And these two heard it happen. So we all raced over here.” 

“Oh.” He did not remember that. He felt that he should at least remember waking up on the floor. How long ago had… Maybe it didn’t matter anymore. “I’m so sorry…”

“Please don’t apologize, hyung. Do you know how many times you’ve literally scraped me off the floor?” Jongin interrupted. 

“Or sat up with me in the bathroom after I drank too much?” Chanyeol added. 

“Or stripped our beds and forced us into the shower when we were sweaty and gross?” Kyungsoo listed. 

“Or remembered to bring the exact medicines any of us need before we’ve even told you we aren’t feeling well?”Junmyeon smiled. 

“Or…”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jongdae cut Sehun off when he noticed Minseok’s eyes fill with tears before he covered them with his hands. The younger vocalist’s hands rubbed at his shoulders. “Hey, hey now. No tears. You’re already dehydrated.” 

Minseok’s hands fell to his sides. “Then stop being so nice to me and making me cry.”

“Okay, heard loud and clear. Everyone go back to being mean,” Junmyeon announced, hands on his hips. That earned as many chuckles as it did eye rolls. 

“Thank you.” Minseok’s voice was still foreign to his own ears, still weak and raspy, but it spoke volumes to the people around him. “All of you.” 

“Can I hug him now?” Baekhyun asked. 

“Not if I get there first!” Jongin moved fast as lightening, toppling on top of Minseok and Jongdae. Baekhyun latched on before they’d evened out from Jongin, and Chanyeol joined on top of that, despite Kyungsoo and Junmyeon both calling that they weren’t being careful at all. Even though the crush of his members piled on top of him definitely hurt his ailing body, Minseok had never felt safer, more loved, in his entire life.

[nyashykyunnie]

im still awake so ahh... Here a lil more info abt my jinwoo x oc (Some crack and fluff)

Minseok: Did u grow tall again?

Jinwoo: Maybe you got shorter?

Minseok: 💀💀💀

Minseok: We're not friends anymore

Jinwoo: Mhm, right.

Jinwoo:**is always waiting for Minseok's chats even tho he just leaves them on read or replies rlly dryly**

Minseok:**doesnt text him for a day**

Jinwoo:**IMMEDIATELY SHADOW TELEPORTS TO MINSEOK PANICKING** WHO HURT YOU, WHO MADE YOU CRY, WHY ARE YOU SO QUIET, ARE YOU SICK DO I NEED TO USE THE LIFE POTION ON YOU WTH HAPPENED

Minseok:**was watching pocoyo the whole day and forgor abt Jinwoo** Oh hello:DD, come join me lets watch pocoyo!!!

Jinwoo:** SIGHS IN RELIEF BECAUSE HE HAD A HEART ATTACK**

Minseok:**RAMBLING ABT JELLYFISHIES ALL DAY LONG**

Jinwoo:**doesnt understand all of it because Minseok talks too fast but enjoys seeing Minseok's cute lil dimples appear while stimming as he rambles**

Minseok:**makes cat paw hands and shakes it when he's excited.**

Jinwoo:**either stares at his hands for far too long or impulsively holds the lil fists because they r so cute**

Jinwoo:**Moon**

Minseok:**His star**

Minseok:**Loves magical and quirky things**

Jinwoo:**Makes magical illusions for Minseok to play around him and just so he can see that star-strucked face.*

Minseok: Woowoo?

Jinwoo: Yes, Seokkie?

Minseok: Nyathing :D

Jinwoo: Mn.

Minseok: Woowoo?~

Jinwoo: Yes, Seokkie?~

Minseok: Heheh^^

Jinwoo: **chuckles too**

Minseok:**likes dancing around as if he's dancing in a ball and being treated like a princess**

Jinwoo:**Plays along with his childish antics and becomes Minseok's makeshift prince charming**

Minseok: You really look like a prince charming, woowoo:DD!!

Jinwoo:Really? If I'm the prince charming then you must be my princess.

Minseok:Yeah XD!!!

Jinwoo: Can I? Can I kiss my princess?

Minseok: ...

Minseok: Yes<33

[rancidtae]

ARCADIA’S LULLABY | CHAPTER 3

Genre: Mafia AU. Vigilante AU. Sci-fi (AI). Warnings: Graphic violence, Strong language Pairing: exo & Original Female Character (Jung Jiah/Kang Rina) - Kim Minseok/Original Female Character - Zhang Yixing/Original Female Character Word count: 7k+ chapter summary: the rain pours relentlessly, but a different storm is just starting. Jiah meets Jongin at a birthday party, it's all harmless fun and magnetic sparks until it isn't, and he calls her the wrong name.

masterlist meet the characters

You wanna disappear in a crowd Just a stranger in a room Wanna change your colors just for the night With no word of it following you home

081222 - 5:43 pm

Things are quiet.

The story is still at the center of the news and online discussions. People have dissected every detail of Lee Chungjae's life to the point that he took down all his posts. In every sense of the word, he's the country's most hated man.

And candidate Lee's reassuring smile when reporters bring up the subject has started to crack.

But nothing else happens.

She's on edge. Let the storm hit already, for fuck's sake. 

Yixing finds her restlessness hilarious and texts her a screenshot of the weather app this morning. 90% chance of rain for the next three days.

It looks like Kuraokami answered your prayers.

In the midst of it all, he's been refusing to blend to the background of her mind, exploiting the fact that she's weak when it comes to a good meal. Most days he shows up to her door with takeout, and just yesterday he came with ingredients and made her eat her words about carbonara being the most overrated approach to noodle based recipes.

He’d laugh at her if he could see her now, standing outside the chronicle's building, struggling to get her buzzing phone from the inside of her bag.

A part of her hopes it's the blocked number from before.

But there's a name on the screen, and it puts a frown on her face.

“What do you want.” 

A chuckle spills through the line. “Resentment is a terrible thing, you know? It does the heart no good.”

“How would you know? You don't have one."

“I heard you paid someone a visit last night. I wanted to hear it from you.”

She scoffs up at the sky through her see-through umbrella.

"You want me to say I’m... what? Shaking in my boots? So you can rub one out to the sound of it?”

“Language, sunshine. Let’s keep things civil.”

“I tried to be civil, didn’t I? I even gave you a heads-up for old times’ sake, but then you decided to make things personal. So now I’m thinking that next time, I'll just let it blow in your face, make it surprise.” 

“Ah, there we go again with that. Why do you insist on calling it personal?”

“Why don’t you suck my dick, Namjoon?”

She hates that she can hear his poisonous smile, over so confident and collected.

“You walked into that room yourself. How is it fair to blame me for the consequences of your actions?”

He enjoyed it, he’s enjoying it even now, she knows. He denied any involvement in her encounter with a certain pair of recently debuted syndicate members, but hist hands were all over that stunt.

A blow like that, the same night she showed up to let him know she had info on his candidate’s son, and he expects her to believe destiny is just funny like that.

No fucking way.

Things may or may not have escalated to shattered wine glass and a deep burgundy stain on Jin's favorite artwork hanging on the wall.

“Can you get to the point? Some of us can’t afford to spend the day scheming, I have things to do.” she says, impatience seeping into her tone.

It's starting to rain, so her hair will start looking crazy in about three minutes.

“I was hoping you were bluffing.”

She laughs in a way that makes an older woman give her a nasty look.

“My hopes weren’t for us.”

Ah.

There it is. As grim as it is, it’s like a weight taken off her chest.

Her surroundings come back into focus. The narrow street. The stream of people walking past her, trying to get out of the rain as soon as possible. A girl brushing her shoulder, recording herself speaking in a foreign language. A taxi driver fighting with a delivery guy. A German shepherd with a yellow raincoat and little rubber boots, its nose against the side of a phone booth. 

“I see.” 

“Just now?” he has the gall to sigh, disappointed. “I thought you knew when you went to Yoongi looking for a 22. I guess you're not that good at seeing things beforehand anymore, not even when you start them.”

If she had to describe it, she’d say it’s a lot like a game of hide and seek with the kids from her street. Terrifying and exciting at the same time.

“Come to the hotel,” he suddenly says, much to her surprise “Stay here until things settle down.”

And if she had to sum Kim Namjoon up, this would be it. No one but him could give an invitation and a threat at the same time with such ease. Come, or else.

“No. I think I'll stay outside, see what comes out of it.”

Another deep sigh.

“I see. Have it your way, then. You have your fun, make sure to enjoy it.”

She hits the red button and finds that the cute dog with the rubber boots nowhere to be seen, as if it vanished off the street with its human. 

At least 13 different people stop her before reaching Kim Kibum's office. Even though her name wasn't credited, her co-workers know what it means when she disappears for weeks, and the kind of stories she chases. The vultures in her department rolling their eyes at the sight of her kind of give it away.

“I thought I told you to work from home until further notice,” he says as she locks the door behind her.

“What? I deliver the story of probably the year, and you don’t want to see my face anymore?”

"Don’t. I’ve had a long day” he huffs, pulling the blinds down. His office looks less cluttered than she remembers. Has it been that long since she clocked in? “You know there’s a reason why I asked you to lay low for a while.”

She drops her body on one of the chairs in front of his desk and grabs a heavy, fancy pen.

“Did you see? Lee Chungjae is living his best life in France pretending to care about free education. He’s out there taking pics with Rihanna.”

Her boss leans over, snatches the pen from her hands, and points it at her like a sword.

“And? What do you expect? That they lock him up as soon as the story comes out? We do our thing, the rest is up to the world. We’re a newspaper, not the league of justice.”

Earlier today she told Haneul something similar, just to calm him down. Now she knows how he felt.

“It’s been a week already.”

“No, it’s barely been a week” he corrects her, moving a storage box under his desk and stretching his waist like he just can’t wait for retirement. “You know how this is, Jiah.”

Yeah, she knows. Shitty. Working your ass off, dealing with red tape and censorship, putting everything on a plate only for the world to move on, people not give a shit, and those who are supposed to do something turn a blind eye and fill their pockets.

“Why is your stuff inside a box?" Even the fake Basquiat is missing, so she knows it's serious. "Are you quitting?”

“I’m moving to a new office,” he says, pausing before adding "Jongsuk quit today.”

The news hits her like an ice bucket.

“He turned in his resignation letter earlier."

"Fuck." she breathes. "Oh. Fuck."

"Talk about freedom of the press, huh?” he laughs bitterly, tapping his temple, shaking his head, his eyes turning red.

In terms of bad news, this is the kind that makes you very aware of the last meal you had.

The Chronicle’s had the same chief editor for nearly twelve years. It’s one of the country’s most respected newspapers, and Jung Jongsuk was a big part of the reason why. The idea of someone with enough power moving the right strings to get the man, the myth, the fucking legend fired just as means of revenge sets a chill down her spine.

It’s a petty but very clear act of revenge. A shame, considering he was damn good at his job and how much he cared about his staff.

She sucks on her teeth “What’s he gonna do?”

“No idea. He showed up earlier today and left as soon as he gave a speech. They want me to step in immediately. Can you believe it?”

She's out of words. Half wanting to congratulate him despite the sad circumstances of his promotion, half wondering what that means for her. He suddenly squints.

“You look terrible. Finals?”

“Done, I’m a free woman”

She's can't stop thinking about Chief Editor Jongsuk, how he was always like the cool stepdad that didn’t have to be too nice or too mean to get your respect, how he gave her a chance when she was just a freshman.

“Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep or, I don’t know... drinking your face off with your friends?”

Her hand slips inside her backpack. “Well, if you'd answered my calls, I would be doing one of those.”

She puts a small, puny handgun on the desk, and slides it in his direction.

“Are you—” he locks the door before lowering his voice to a hiss “Have you lost your mind? How did you get through security?”

“You said we need to be careful and this is what being careful looks like, take it.” she says, sliding it closer to him. It barely brushes the side of his keyboard.

“Are you crazy? Do not— ” he opens a drawer and pushes it inside like it burns to the touch, slamming it shut and leaning his body away, pressing one hand to his forehead. “Jiah, this is illegal”

“I’m the best investigative journalist you have, flirting with the illegal here and there is one of the many reasons why.” 

“This isn’t flirting with the illegal, for god's sake, this is raw dogging it, Jiah. This is an office. We’re a–”

“Im Haneul is about to get into witness protection, that’s why I’m giving you something to protect yourself with. Thank you, Jiah. You’re welcome, boss.”

He bites his lip, looking at the drawer with resentment before setting his eyes on her, dead serious.

“Is there something you’re not telling me? Did something happen?”

“It’s always better to be prepared. You know what they say about peace and quiet.”

“I don’t,” he deadpans “Is that some kind of gang lingo?”

She frowns. “Just what has Minho been telling you? I should pay him a little visit—”

“You’re not going anywhere near my staff.”

“Your staff? I’m your staff. He’s a sports reporter, you can walk into a bar anywhere in Itaewon and find a dozen replacements.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, not denying it. “Did. Something. Happen.”

“I heard something. From a good source.”

“A good source.”

“Yeah, sometimes those are what we call confidential. So—” he fixes her with a look that makes her fear that his eyeballs will pop out of their sockets. “Fine, it was Kim Namjoon.”

He blinks at her. Throws his hands in the air and plops down on his seat.

“That's hilarious. If this doesn’t work for you, you can always pursue comedy. Now get the hell out of my office, I have to move my stuff to the other side of the floor.”

She stands up stretching her arms, giving him a once over and opening her mouth. He lifts a hand.

“I don't want to hear it. Go take a bath, get drunk, do drugs, get laid. You’re an undergrad student, not Chelsea Manning. Live a little.”

“Actually, I prefer Lisbeth Salander."

"Get out."

081222 - 06:55 pm

Something about the bleach fumes welcoming the moment she enters Lady’s Room is just– homely, and Wendy's threatening glare makes up for the stern mother figure she didn’t have growing up. 

“Don’t even think about it, boots off.”

She toes off her muddy boots, struggling not to spill anything on the heavy takeout bags, making her way to the back.

“How come he gets to keep them on?”

Taemin looks insane with a black cape covering his body and his hair all foiled up, Seulgi's hovering over him with the cutest concentrated frown. He wiggles is feet at her.

“Clean shoes privilege. Plus, I'm way cuter than you.”

She snaps a picture of him for future use while he's distracted explaining how he read somewhere that hair takes bleach better when you're stress-free, and that the end of his last semester is just the perfect moment.

“And of course you believed that, because it makes total sense”

“No, it’s true,” Seulgi says. “It’s also better when you’re in a good mood. That’s why I don’t like to take people fresh out of a bad breakup, the chemicals get all messed up.”

“Oh, he doesn’t need to worry about that,” she says off-handedly.

Taemin doesn’t like her tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wendy answers before she can, flipping through receipts on the reception area. “It means that you need a relationship to go through a breakup. That’s usually how it works”

“I'll have you know that I have secondhand PTSD from you guys. I’m like one ride home with an angry couple away from giving up on monogamy.” 

“So, blue?”

“Silver.” He shows her a picture of a male idol with gray hair, wet styled. He's worried that if he goes too light it'll wash out his complexion.

She inspects his face in the floor to ceiling mirror “Nonsense, you’d look good in anything, buttercup.”

He smiles, always a slut for some validation. "You're coming to Sana’s party, right?”

She groans, plopping down on the chair next to him.

“Jiah, come on, it’s the last party of the semester. The last party before I graduate.”

She’s not swayed by his abuse of the last something before I graduate card. “I’m out of social battery, I'll kill the vibe.”

“We’ll pregame at my place and you’ll be good to go.”

“I can’t be bothered to go home and get changed.”

“Oh! You left the strappy shirt, you know? the one you didn’t know you were wearing backwards, and that leather skirt at my place, I threw them in the washing machine just for an occasion like this.”

“I’m seriously not feeling the vibe today.”

“Who cares, you attract people when you’re sulking.” he shrugs “Plus that’s the skirt you were wearing when you pulled that Romanian guy. We get free bottles every time you have your leg meat out.”

Seulgi slaps the side of his neck with her glove-covered hand. “Don’t pimp her out.”

“And this is why I suggested a ladies-only policy.”

“Interesting that you assume you fall in that category, but go on.” Taemin says, Jiah gasps in fabricated indignation. “And isn’t that reverse sexism?”

“It’s not like men are rushing to get in.”

Irene emerges from the office, walking past them with her all work and no fucking around face on, all her focus taken by her tablet.

“Oh, actually, we had a guy customer a few days ago and he was very happy with our services,” Seulgi says. Taemin and Jiah let out synchronized snorts.

Irene looks at them, going through the pile of papers Wendy handed her. “Grow up, you two."

Seulgi catches on, making a noise of disgust.

“So what did he want? A massage?”

Irene flips a page, scanning its contents. The warning is sharper this time. “Taemin.”

“He wanted a full-on transformation, so we went with silver,” Seulgi says, ignoring the quip, poking at his bleach covered hair with the pointy edge of her brush “It looked pretty good on him. It suited his personality.”

Taemin coos "Is that a crush I smell?"

Seulgi shrugs. "I'm just saying he fit the look, he was easy to talk to. Funny too. Asked a lot of questions about the salon, said a childhood friend of his co-owns one.”

"Huh, sounds boring to me." Taemin shrugs, not impressed. Seulgi and Jiah share a knowing look. He's platonically possessive to a fault, and being the only guy in their group only makes it worse.

Jiah smirks, spinning on the chair. "Sounds like your replacement to me."

He sticks his tongue at her “I was going to introduce you to someone tonight, traitor.”

Irene and Wendy sigh in relief, finally finding whatever it was they were looking for, high five-ing.

“I’m heartbroken.” She yawns. “I wasn’t planning on going anyway”

“You should go.“ Irene says, coming to stand behind her chair, playing with her hair. "You sure need it."

“What is it with people treating me like I’m some boring bitch lately?”

“Have you considered that you’ve been a boring bitch lately? We barely see you, you were supposed to help us look for a new place” Wendy complains, plopping on the other chair next to Taemin’s, spinning. "And you missed the anniversary party"

Nothing for her to do but take the shots. Seulgi steps in for her, an angel.

"Cut her some slack, she brought food. You know that’s sorry in her language."

"Alright, yeah.” Wendy agrees way too easily "And for the record, there's nothing wrong with being boring, Yeri can always use a boring figure in her life"

“I’m not going to a party to be on Yeri Sitting Duty.”

Taemin squints at her, walking to the washing station under Seulgi's orders, cape swooshing dramatically behind him. “But you’re coming, right?”

To be fair, she does feel bad about ghosting them for weeks.

“I swear to god, you better not ditch me for one of your Instagram famous friends."

He doesn't get a chance to reply, his calls for help fill the salon and Seulgi giggles like a sweet summer child discovering the joys of waterboarding. Irene's pleased to the point of pulling her phone out to record the scene, chortling.

081222 - 11:25 pm

One would assume that the only child of the owner of a massive Japanese architecture firm, who also happens to own several clubs in the city, can afford to throw a party with decent alcohol.

Her annoyance should be directed at Taemin for talking her into coming and proceeding to do exactly what she asked him not to.

He’s nowhere to be seen, and Party Yeri is at her peak, hands thrown in the air, dancing between a bunch of freshman girls with their phones out, the red light beams bouncing off her glittery top. 

“Not a dancer, or just not in the mood?” a voice interrupts.

She felt his presence before he approached her table. Some people are just hard to ignore, and with his simple silky shirt with a few buttons undone, pushed-back hair, and a flirty strand hanging on his forehead, he has a crowd of curious women and men alike following him with hungry eyes everywhere he goes.

“The second one.”

He smiles just like someone who's used to seeing others react to his looks.

Her first impression of him was jealousy for having better lips than her. She was too busy listening to Mina talk about her internship in Spain to pay too much attention to Taemin introducing the guy. Sitting at levels of handsomeness that don't require a personality, the man bored her without uttering a word.

But he's not hard to look at.

“So, how come we haven’t met before?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Taemin says your presence is an exclusive experience." she sips her drink, he thinks it's funny. "Jiah, right?”

“And you’re Jongin, one of the dancing friends.” 

A guy approaches Yeri’s group, disgustingly scanning each girl like he’s trying to figure out who has the lowest standards. 

“Not a big fan of us?”

She considers her answer, watching the girls shrug him off before he can get too comfortable.

“I've learned to coexist with you people. It comes with the Taemin package.”

His little laugh is surprisingly childish for his masculine looks. The way he keeps looking at her face like he can't spare any bit of attention to their surroundings makes her feel like a bug under a microscope lens.

“Here's my theory, I think he might’ve been keeping you to himself for a bit there. But I’ve heard so many things about you that I kind of feel like I know you already."

Jiah doesn't know what to say to that, but holds his warm gaze and indulges in the view for a bit. Caramel skin, glowy under the strobe lights, painted red like a forbidden object of desire, or a character of a Japanese movie, waiting for his lover at a love hotel.

Handsome indeed. Nice jaw, soft nose, slightly arched eyebrows. 

“Good things, I hope.”

“Interesting things.” He says with a crooked grin. She cocks an eyebrow, but he beats her to it. “So, journalism. What’s that like?”

She gives him the generic answer she keeps for occasions like this; lots of reading, being on the phone, doing more with less. No one is ever satisfied. Neither the readers nor the editors nor yourself.

Ok. So maybe she assumed a lot of things. He's surprisingly great company, really easy to talk to. He owns a dance studio and teaches from time to time. Some of his students have made it to entertainment companies, and he tries not to seem cocky, but it's clear he's extremely proud of them. He’s very nonchalant about covering various styles, though he’s more interested in R&B these days. 

“Your day-to-day sounds like a lot of sitting behind a desk,” he comments. Being someone that works with his body, the idea must haunt him.

“Oh, god, no– I always feel like I’ll throw myself from the window if I spend too much time at the office. I’m on the investigation team, so I’m almost always out on the streets, harassing bureaucrats and stuff.” 

“That sounds... fun.”

“Riveting,” she promises. “It’s not bad, really. You go through the boring stuff and then when you get a good story, you remember why you do it, and… it’s a good feeling.”

“You know, usually when someone mentions journalism I think of people with thinning hair and marriage issues.” 

“Are you calling me old?”

“No. I was trying to say that you just took down a stereotype for me.” he pauses, pouting and looking up like he’s considering something “But you do give off an old soul vibe, sitting on your own, sulking like you’re here against your own will, ready to decimate anyone who dares come near you.”

She blinks at him, he’s holding back a smile, she can tell. Waiting for her reaction.

“Wow, so you’re just gonna call me a hag like that?”

He looks mildly surprised, worried, and amused all at the same time. “That’s not–”

“And if I look that scary, how come you’re here at my table?”

“Because you’re very attractive. It balances out the scary.”

She hums into her glass.

“And I’m very charming, I knew you’d be harmless.”

“Right.” He’s not entirely wrong. She’s always suspicious of extremely charming people, and the alarms are going off in her head.

“This is me hitting on you, off the record.” he continues, undeterred. She snorts. "And I say that because, as I’m sure you know, Taemin is possessive.”

She lifts and shakes a finger like an aunt at church when the pastor hits a mark. “Like a kid who doesn’t share his toys.”

Which reminds her, where’s that silver-haired menace?

“We’ll just have to ease him into it.”

“Uh-huh. This is flattering and all, I guess, but I’m married so–”

“Oh, that’s fine. I don’t get jealous” he shrugs, very serious about it. Which is unexpected, no one has ever reacted to the I'm married line like that. “I’m not gonna try to compete with your career.”

She's speechless, but in a good way, laughing at the audacity and shaking her head.

But then, just for a moment, he disappears.

There’s a quick, almost untraceable absence, even his smile falters.

Then he snaps back.

“Hey, you wanna get out for a bit? Get some fresh air? Looks like your friend’s gonna be busy for a while.”

Yeri was off her radar for a bit there, and now she’s got her arm threaded with the birthday girl herself. They’re moving away from the crowd, talking into each other's ears like they haven’t debriefed in months, probably headed to the bathroom.

Now that he mentions it, fresh air sounds nice. 

“Promise I’m all out of lines,” he adds.

It’s humid out on the street, but less stuffy and noisy. She pulls out a brand new pack of cigarettes and they get fire from a girl hanging around with her friends next to a motorcycle. Her kohl-stained eyes scan Jongin greedily while he leans over, hands cupping the flame.

She suddenly turns to look at her, right when Jongin leans back and thanks her, and winks.

If Jongin notices, he’s unbothered, much more concerned with moving around her to stand on the side of the street, wordlessly making them switch spots. The gentleman move is soon eclipsed by a sudden coughing fit.

It's so bad she feels kind of horrible about finding it amusing. He really just fucked up his smooth streak after one drag.

She offers to grab him a drink, but he shakes his head, grabbing her arm before she walks away. He swallows hard one, two, or three times, wiping the corners of his eyes.

"You good?"

"No." he rasps. “These are the kind that my grandfather used to smoke.”

“You could’ve said no.” she counters, patting his back. They’re strong, she didn’t warn him because she showed him the package.

“I was a victim of peer pressure.” he jokes after clearing his throat. “I was doing well, wasn’t I?”

“It’s ok. Choking on smoke like a high schooler makes you human.” she offers him as consolation. The coughing fit messed up his hair. he looks younger now, less of a threat. Maybe it’s just the fresh air, the relief of getting out of the crowd, and the nicotine easing her up. 

He asks if she smokes often, sounding like he doesn’t want to intrude, but a part of him will judge her if she says yes. Truthfully, she hasn’t in months, but it always hits a spot after a while, and people assume she’s too into it. 

“Work's stressing you out?”

“That’s what work is supposed to do, isn’t it?” 

He winces.

“Not to a level where you have to smoke like a war general.”

She grins at him sideways, the man who introduced her to this particular brand would have a few things to say about that sentence.

“I can deal with the stress, I only smoke when I get frustrated.”

“And does that happen often?”

“I don’t know? I guess. My boss says I’m too much of a control freak. He's a jerk, but sometimes it feels like he knows me better than I know myself.”

“Not great at teamwork, then?” he probes.

“No, I mean-- I’m not, but it’s not that.” she pauses. He’s waiting for her to elaborate. “I just wish I could do more sometimes, and not just document things from the sidelines. Does that make sense?”

“It absolutely does.” he assures. “I think I know what you mean.”

“I tried it, recently” she goes on, and she doesn’t know why she’s opening up to this guy. She’s not trying to turn him into her therapist, and she’s not even sure she wants to take him home at all. There’s too much going on in her mind at the moment, she wouldn’t be fully present anyway. It'd be a waste.

“And how did that go?”

“It was alright at the beginning. I've been helping someone– a friend who was gonna do something he'd regret. Actually, I'm not sure we're actually friends, but he's a great guy in a shitty situation.” she rambles, taking one last drag. “But then things went south in the worst way possible. It didn't even have anything to do with him, just personal baggage and terrible timing. I guess I had it coming.” 

He nods, deep in thought, letting a comfortable silence fall between them, just watching people walk past, going in and out of the club. She presses the butt against the sole of her boots, and tosses it in the trash.

“If it’s any help, I’m sure your friend is grateful. You did well helping him.” he says, and she remembers Yixing saying something similar. “And whatever happened, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

She shrugs. “It is what it is, right? Onwards and upwards.” 

He grins, pointing a finger at her. "That’s totally something my father would say.”

“So you ran out of lines and now you’re back to calling me old?”

“I only said that because I didn’t want to come off too strong, but if you insist.” He’s back on charming again, hands in the air like she’s just giving him no choice. The switch between kind to charming gives her whiplash.

A waste, really. A month ago she might’ve taken him home, let him make her coffee in the morning.

“I’m not insisting, I just asked you a question.”

He waves her off. “Bet you 5000 won I can kiss you without using my lips.”

It’s stupid. But he looks like the epitome of determination. Kohl girl behind him keeps looking at them over her shoulder, and without the meaningless rumble of the crowd to distract her, his voice turns out to be quite lovely.

So she tilts her chin at him, giving him the green light.

He takes two purposeful steps. She calls his bluff, refusing to back up against the wall. He gets close enough that he has to bend his head down to keep eye contact, and in a surprisingly smooth move, he places a short, harmless peck right on her lips. 

Then he backs up with a single step and pulls out a bill from his pocket.

“A great investment if you ask me.” he says.

She laughs despite herself. Not in the coy, flirted up way, but a full, honest, belly laugh.

The silver-haired menace himself emerges from the shadows with a cowboy hat on his head, thumbs hooked on his jeans. He’s glaring, a scowl on his lipstick-stained lips, focusing on the way Jiah bends over, hand on her tummy and all.

“What are you doing with my best friend? I’m asking both of you, by the way.” he demands.

“Where did you get that?” she asks him, fully recovered, flicking the hat.

Taemin grabs the bill from Jongin’s hand before he can put it away. Jongin raises his eyebrows at him, anticipating complaints for his actions, daring him even.

“Not that I don’t respect the hustle, but I think you’re underselling yourself, sweetie." he says, turning to Jongin like a parental figure setting limits. "A peck from our Jiah is easily worth 10000 won. Pay up.”

“Deal,” Jongin shrugs, reaching for his back pocket again, pulling out several bills, winking at her. "How many can I get for--"

“Alright, we get it, she gets it,” Taemin interrupts, putting an arm around his shoulders, and rubbing his chest distractedly. “I thought you were on Yeri Sitting Duty tonight.”

Jiah licks her thumb and wipes the lipstick marks on his jaw, much to Jongin's endless amusement

“She’s a big girl. You got some on your teeth, you harlot."

"Finally. I keep telling you girls, you baby her too much" he complains, licking his front teeth. "Someday you'll have to set her free, let her make some mistakes of her own. They build character, you know?"

"How wise of you." Jongin says. "Was that the logic behind this new look?"

"Some mistakes don't." Taemin continues, looking at her with crazy eyes, pointing at Jongin. "Some mistakes make your best friend uncomfortable and are off limits."

Jiah and Jongin look at each other. "You introduced us."

"Yes, and? I never said get chummy and explore each other's bodies, did I?"

“Nice tattoo, by the way.” She tells Jongin. She caught a glimpse when he got closer and thought it looked familiar. Then Taemin unknowingly moved the fabric on his chest out of the way and she got confirmation. “It’s the helm of awe, isn't it?”

Jongin mouth falls open, genuine shock taking over his features. Not many people know about runes or recognize them. Taemin tilts his head to the side, eyeing her curiously, suspiciously.

“How do you know that? I thought it was a snowflake.”

“I knew a girl who had one on the back of her neck. Hers was red though. Looked great when she put her hair up.”

Taemin releases Jongin from his clutches with an unconvinced hmph, taking off his hat and putting it on her head. Jongin quietly fixes his shirt.

"Oh. Oh. I think I saw Minho inside. You wanna piss him off?"

Well, that’s great. That’s just great. Super cool.

Jongin takes a look at her face and blurts out the question. "Who's that?"

"Her ex. She broke his heart, he started rumors that she's with the Yakuza." Jongin blinks in surprise, and Taemin looks like he wants to elaborate further. She stops him.

“What’s that grown man doing here?”

“You know he likes to hang around the youngsters and make people guess his age. So, you in?”

“Leave me out of it.” 

"Hear me out. I was thinking you and Jongin could walk around, right? Let him see you together, put on a little show. You know how his ears get red and his eyes bulge out when he's angry?” he's trying to contain his laugh, looking maniac. “I’ll buy you dinner, both of you. I’m serious.”

That’s her cue for a bathroom break. She puts the cowboy hat on Jongin’s head, not deterred by the way his eyes follow her on her way inside.

A sigh escapes her lips as the cold water runs over her hands. She smiles at a group of girls walking out of the door, their giggles reminding her of the task at hand—finding Yeri and making sure she's not too drunk to make semi-rational decisions.

Maybe she’ll try to talk her into ditching this place. Yixing's uncle's spot is not too far from here.

The possibility of running into her ex kind of makes her want to bolt. Not out of lingering feelings, she just doesn’t have the energy for that interaction. He has a way with sucking the like out of her.

There's only so much she can take of things beyond her control.

The bathroom door clicks. Something shifts in the air. The unsettling feeling of realizing she's not alone. She glances up at the mirror and catches a glimpse of him in the reflection.

Reacting on instinct, her hand snatches the decorative vase from the sink and hurls it at him. The man covers his face, not before grabbing her forearm and slamming her against the sink.

She puts her palms up to avoid hitting the mirror face first. It happens at once, suddenly he's grabbing her bag, and the next second the chain strap is pulling around her neck.

Her body bends back. His knee's pressed against her lower back. Either she’ll pass out or he’ll snap her in half.

She's not about to go down in a public bathroom. She pushes her shaky fingers under the chain, attempting to relieve some of the pressure.

Her vision' blurring, she's running out of oxygen and ideas. Tears well up. The muffled music starts fading.

There's a distant slam, a loud thump.

And thank fuck, release.

She catches her weight on the sink, gasps for air, almost crashes against the mirror again. She turns on wobbly legs and faces two bodies intertwined and struggling on the floor.

Her attacker’s dressed in all black, mask included, buzzcut, well built. The second man has his thighs wrapped around his head, snarling as he keeps him overpowered. A blue-grey silk shirt clings to his broad shoulders, thin black lines mark the skin on his chest.

The helm of awe.

He knocks the guy out with his thighs which... ok, impressive. With heaving breaths, his eyes land on her.

She runs. He grabs her arm before she can get through the door, and bends over when her knee finds his crotch.

Slamming the door behind her, she slaps her hands against the wall for support, still a bit dizzy, heart racing.

"Wait! Rina– please wait–"

Everything shuts down—her legs, the party, the whole city stops. She drops the plans of putting as much distance as possible between them, turns around and stomps in his direction.

Four letters, one word, a slap to the face.

“What did you just call me?” she demands, her face inches away from his. She doesn't recognize her own voice. He's pawing at his neck, pulling a chain for her to see, like that's gonna do something. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I know them. I know Yixing. You’re in danger, I’m here to help you." he sounds pained, trying to calm her down. She has no sympathy for him.

Hanging from the chain, a silver band morphs into two bony hands that hold a mint-colored ball. A ring, worn as a necklace. She recognizes it at once. She won that ring at some fair in Busan. Someone at school started a rumor that she joined the occult. Kyungsoo's mother thought she was a bad influence.

“We have to get you out of here. He has back up, they'll come soon."

Jiah exhales, relaxes her limbs. He mirrors the gesture, letting out a breath of relief.

Then she runs like her life depends on it. And it just might. She bumps into people, pushes them aside, desperately looking for an emergency exit she vaguely remembers from past situations that shouldn't be crossing her mind right now.

They come in handy, successfully leading her to the deserted alley.

But god, whatever version of it is out there, is just not letting her get away so easily. 

The years have granted him an extra couple of inches, not that he ever needed them. Maybe it's just the thick soles of his boots that scrape against the loose gravel. He stops, mirroring her shock for a fleeting second.

She grabs the closest thing available; a rusty, long, and thin metal thing that's heavy enough to give her some confidence. He’s staring at her, no traces left of the awe she saw before.

He's pointing a gun at her face.

"Drop it" he barks "Hands up, turn around and try not to be so damn difficult. In that order."

Frustrated, she snarls at herself, her jaw tightening until it hurts before throwing the stick to the ground. She turns around, facing the mold-infested wall. The last thing she sees is a torn-off poster of an underground rap collective.

His forearm presses to the back of her neck with no mercy. He searches for a weapon she's not carrying.

"That's for being so fucking stupid. Do you realize what you got yourself into?" he snaps, not giving her a chance to answer before he pulls her back by the back of her shirt and pushes her against the wall again.

"Ow– What the fuck, dude?" the rough, disgusting surface of the wall scratches the side of her face. She kicks her feet against the ground. "I wasn’t even– what the fuck was that for?"

"That's for making my mom worry about you, idiot."   

He finally lets her go, and she moves away from him, curses spilling from her mouth.

The exit door opens revealing Jongin—the impostor.

"What are you doing? We need to--"

They guards go up abruptly before her eyes. He raises his gun at her once again, this time with clear intent.

It'd be ugly, she imagines, being shot this up close. Her brains will end up on the floor, his clothes, maybe even his face. The Park Chanyeol she knew was an asshole most of the time, but he didn't have it in him to step on an ant or kill a spider even if his mother ordered him to, let alone shoot someone.

The inevitable fact is that they are strangers. She doesn't know who the time has turned him into, just like she’s no longer someone that he knows.

"Go ahead, big guy," she lifts her chin, rolls her shoulders. He’s looking at her like she's made of cellophane.

Someone takes the ground from under her. The ground is inevitable. Someone grabs her. Her shoulder feels wet, and her hands look for the source. When she looks down it, it’s stained red.

Did he just–

It can’t be. It doesn't hurt. It should hurt.

It all happens too quickly. There's a hissing sound. The impostor grips her tightly and says something.

Was her heartbeat always this loud? And did she really just get shot?

"Eyes open," The impostor orders. There's no escape with the world narrowed down to two walls. They’re closing in.

He keeps talking, telling her that it’s alright. Her heartbeat is drumming inside her head. It’s now supposed to do that, she shouldn’t feel this cold in August. A chill settles in her bones like she’s been running barefoot through deep snow in the woods, wearing nothing but a flimsy hospital gown.

Okay. Maybe she did get shot. And now they’re taking her away. But she can’t go down like this. Irene... the girls will wonder where she is, Yeri’s gonna burn the place down looking for her, Taemin’s too sensitive to deal with something like this, and Chanyeol–

He shot her.

And they keep calling her the wrong name.

"Rina, you have to...” 

thump 

“...be there...” 

thump 

“...right? C’mon...”

thump.

"Rina."

And then they kill the lights.

[iridescentxstars]

ೃ⁀➷ 𝐊𝐞𝐲: [M] — Mature content/warnings | 🌹 — NSFW | ✨ — Rewritten | 🌸 — Recommended

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫-𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲. 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞.

This masterlist contains all my drabbles. There may be some archived drabbles for various reasons and they can be found here. All drabbles are placed under their main AU [eg. mafia, werewolf, etc.] and sorted in chronological order.

ೃ⁀➷ Kim Jongin | BangChan | On-Going Series | Completed Series | Drabbles | Misc | Archived Drabbles

ੈ✩‧₊ 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐲/𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫

[ ✧.* ] Jongin: 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 [ ✧.* ] Minseok: 🐱 [ ✧.* ] Sehun: 🐩 - 🐩 - 🐩 - 🐩 - 🐩

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐂𝐄𝐎/𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫

[ ✧.* ] Baekhyun: 🐶 - 🐶 [ ✧.* ] Chanyeol: 🐯 [ ✧.* ] Jongin: 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 [ ✧.* ] Junmyeon: 🐰 [ ✧.* ] Minseok: 🐱 - 🐱 - 🐱 - 🐱 - 🐱 [ ✧.* ] Taemin: 🌱 [ ✧.* ] Yixing: 🐑

✩‧₊˚ 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞/𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲/𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

[ ✧.* ] Baekhyun: 🐶 - 🐶 - 🐶 - 🐶 - 🐶 - 🐶 - 🐶 - 🐶 - 🐶 [ ✧.* ] Chanyeol: 🐯 - 🐯 - 🐯 [ ✧.* ] Jongin: 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 - 🐻 [ ✧.* ] Junmyeon: 🐰 [ ✧.* ] Kyungsoo: 🐧 [ ✧.* ] San: 🍃 [ ✧.* ] Sehun: 🐩 - 🐩 [ ✧.* ] Yixing: 🐑

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬/𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩/𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞

[ ✧.* ] Crack Post: 😂 - 😂 - 😂 - 😂 [ ✧.* ] Game: 👾 - 👾 - 👾 - 👾 - 👾 - 👾 - 👾 - 👾 - 👾 - 👾 [ ✧.* ] Jongin: 🐻 [ ✧.* ] Yuta: 🦭

[Drabbles Part One][Drabbles Part Three][Drabbles Part Four][Drabbles Part Five][Drabbles Part Six][Drabbles Part Seven](90)

[noforkingclue]

Hi, I saw your open requests and wanted to know if you can do a The Boys one. This might be long...

Imagine an unknown or known supe with the power to control emotions. They manifest tranquility and joy or induce anxiety and panic attacks onto people (you can lower the intensity if that’s too much). They have a scene where they interact with the boys. This can be an x Homelander since they would be able to control his emotions.

-“You can hate me but you’ll be so happy to see me.”

Extra: [They work at Vought as someone who’s able to get close to the supes. They don’t really like the Seven much and try to cause as much issues as possible.]

Note: requests are currently closed

So the Homelander relationship is kinda in the background with this fic. It more focuses on the reader and Butcher talking.

Title: Devious Plans

Warnings: implied forced relationship

The Boys tag list: @captainofmybigwetdream, @scraftskhu35, @zannemes, @holy-minseok

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“What? Edgar doesn’t want to get his hands bloody so he sends one of his fucking cunty minions to do his dirty work for him?”

You looked over at the man who joined you at the bar. He rested his elbows on the counter and you gestured to the bartender to get him a drink. You studied Butcher intently as you took a sip of your own drink. When a whiskey was finally placed in front of him you said,

“Mr Edgar is busy.”

“Heard that one too many times, love.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

Butcher downed his drink in one and immediately it was replaced. He eyed the drink suspiciously and you said,

“Don’t worry. I haven’t poisoned it.”

“If you wanted me dead I’d be dead already.”

You wrinkled your nose saying,

“Bit cliché. I’m not a fan of clichés.”

“Then why are you here you stupid fucking-“

“Hey,” you smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, “Calm down. This anger isn’t very good for your blood pressure.”

You could feel Butcher relax under your grip. He frowned slightly before quickly ripping his arm out from under yours.

“You’re a supe.” He spat

“Took you long enough.”

You finished your drink and another was immediately put in front of you.

“So why the fuck are you here?” snapped Butcher

“Just to make sure that you’re doing what we want.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh?”

“Look love,” Butcher leaned closer, “You work for fucking Vought. You’re just like the rest of them.”

You slammed your glass down and took a deep breath. Butcher grinned at the crack in your mask and you said,

“I am not like them.”

“Evidence says otherwise.”

“Maybe I’m here because I hate them just as much as you.”

“Why are you here.”

“Because I want to see them burn.”

You ran a hand over your face and said quietly,

“The power to control emotions is incredibly useful. Especially when you’re prize superhero is a mentally unstable homicidal maniac.”

Butcher burst out laughing. You raised your eyebrows at him but waited until he had stopped. Butcher rested against the bar and said,

“So Edgar fucking uses you. He whores you out to placate Homelander.”

“That’s a very crude way of putting it.”

“It’s the truth though.”

“Hmm.”

“So what do you want me to do.”

“What Mr Edgar wants.”

“And why the fuck should I do that?”

“Because then we get what we both want.”

“Which is?”

“Homelander dead.”

Butcher’s expression turned stony and you smiled. You had him. He wanted that cunt dead just as much as you did. You finished your drink and hopped off the barstool.

“It was a pleasure speaking to you Mr Butcher. I’ll be in touch.”

“No you fucking won’t.”

“Really?”

“Best if we don’t see each other again.”

“And why is that?”

“Because if I do, I fucking kill you.”

“Because I’m a supe cunt?”

“Exactly.”

“Oh Mr Butcher,” you patted his cheek mockingly, “You can hate me all you want but next time, you’ll be so happy to see me.”

Butcher tried to move but you quickly removed all violent thoughts. His eyes narrowed when he realised what you had done and just how powerless he was against you.

“Be seeing you.” You said as you left the bar

[suuho]

whenever i listen to the live version of lotto i marvel at what a passionate and masterful vocalist jongdae is, and the sound of his voice. man. it’s like cracking a whip. it’s that piercing. it’s insane how much volume and precision he can put behind his high notes, while sacrificing neither pitch nor sound. his tone is so interesting, especially for a ballad singer, because it’s quite a high tenor with an edge. something you’d find more at home in rock songs, even, less so in exo’s custom r&b or pop. and yet, he thrives there. he makes every song that much richer and interesting because of the texture of his voice and the quality of his vocals. and this did not come naturally to him; he’s worked so hard to be as good as he is. that is decade-long dedication! because that is what good singers do, they never stop taking lessons, they never stop learning, they maintain their voice to their best abilities.

what is also interesting is that his voice is kind of the antithesis to kyungsoo’s vocal tone. on one hand we have kyungsoo’s rich and warm tenor that sits somewhat lower, firmly in his chest, and he’s got this insane tonality and musicality that makes him so adept at riffs and runs and harmonies. he’s always been the most musical out of the main vocalists, especially when they just had debuted. jongdae was pitchy back then and prone to over-singing (which he all corrected, obviously), but kyungsoo was very confident and aware of his vocal abilities. the thing in kpop though is that a voice like kyungsoo’s will never get the same, preferable treatment as high and lyrical tenors such as jongdae and baekhyun. but i am digressing. the point is, while kyungsoo’s voice has a velvety quality, jongdae’s is the opposite. it’s sharp. it’s loud as a foghorn and so high, piercing. and that makes every time they harmonize super exciting, and every exo song sound so rich and interesting. that is such an insanely smart choice, and this is why combining exo-m and exo-k was always the smart choice in the long run (not that they had any other choice but it worked to their advantage).

exo actually has a lot of very different vocals and it’s a real skill that they blend and mesh so well. you certainly have vocalists that work as bridges in the group, namely yixing, junmyeon and baekhyun. less so jongin and minseok, but they do as well. then you have chanyeol, who is probably the one member in the group with perfect pitch, i’d assume. he’s actually a pretty talented vocalist, he’s just a baritone and his main job is to be their main rapper, so we rarely get to hear him sing (which is a bummer. by the way, where is his solo actually?). and on that note, i think exo-sc should keep employing junmyeon as their go to guy to feature, because they all sound so good together. with his lyrical, bell-like tenor he adds the perfect amount of levity to sehun and chanyeol’s vocals. anyways. i don’t know where this is going. just some thoughts.

[minseoksheaux]

Me: *reblogs a picture of kim minseok and tags it as black don't crack*

[amortentva]

student  file:  lílian  osorio-moon  ✶  25,  transwoman,  she/her,  half-blood,  hufflepuff,  sixth  year,  teaching.  member  of  broom  racing,  aurelius  choir,  and  quidditch  club.  can  be  described  as  optimistic,  naive,  sensitive,  and  nurturing. wanted connections. pinterest.

"tell me, atlas. what is heavier: the world or its people's hearts?"

full  name.  lílian  xiomara  osorio-moon.  aliases.  lily.  age.  twenty-five  years  old.   birth  date.  december  twenty  second,  nineteen  ninety  seven.  house.  hufflepuff.   blood  status.  half-blood.  wand.  nine  and  a  half  inches,  ashwood,  phoenix  feather  core.  pet.  a  budgie  (  parakeet  )  named  belle,  often  perched  on  her  shoulder  wherever  she  goes.   spoken  languages.  english,  portuguese,  korean.

parents.  cesar  osorio  (  father,  deceased  ),  isabel  osorio  (  mother,  deceased  ),  sangcheol  moon  (  adoptive  father,  alive  ),  sunhwa  moon  (  adoptive  mother,  alive  ).   siblings.  elias  osorio  (  older  brother,  deceased  ), minji moon ( adoptive sibling ), minseok moon ( adoptive sibling ),  wc for one more adoptive sibling here !!   before  aurelius.  attended  herleva  school  of  witchcraft  and  wizardry.

tw’s to follow: death of a parent, description of blood, death of a sibling, suicide, trauma, child neglect.

lílian was the second born to the osorio family, after her brother elias. her half-blooded magical father never fell out of love with his childhood crush, and eventually the two fell in love over the summers they spent together when he would return from school. it was difficult lying to her, but once he proposed years into their relationship he finally told her the truth so that she would know what she's marrying into and their future together if they decide to have kids. when they did, their first born is elias, a young boy obsessed with broom riding as soon as his little legs could hop over them. their second born is lily, and she's a curious child who doesn't ever seem to have stopped speaking after that first word left her mouth.

the young wix is only seven when her father and brother are killed in a magical accident of which the ministry refused to release specific details due to the location being where her father worked in the department of mysteries, a section of the ministry of magic that carried out confidential research. with no answers and no closure, no certainty that herself and her child would be safe moving forward, isabel osorio spent most of the next two years refusing to allow lilian to leave the house and forbidding her to use magic ever again. sheltered for years on permanent house arrest with her paranoid, grief-stricken mother, lily only used magic as a means for escape once. just one night, to breathe fresh air that wasn't through the crack of a window. only an hour later, she would return to the smell of rust flooding her senses and the sight of her mother's body on the floor of their kitchen.

lílian was nine when she was sent to live with her godparents who she hadn't seen in years, and they took her in without question as if she was their own. she was different, somewhat quieter than before the accident and much more observant. after spending years so acutely attuned to her mother's emotions, she became a watcher. over time, lily could look at someone and tell by the position that their lips take when they don’t think anyone is watching how they feel in that particular moment, by the way they speak to people how they were raised and how those who raised them might have been like by paying close attention to the way they treat their company. she knew the direction of a gaze that differentiated lie from truth, the telling habits of nerves, distraction, or sadness, the tone of someone’s voice that gave away just what they were feeling even though that was exactly what they were trying to keep hidden.

positive.  optimistic,  nurturing,  benevolent,  devoted,  receptive,  intuitive.   neutral.  sensitive,  inquisitive.   negative.  puerile,  fussy,  obsessive,  dependent,  self-indulgent,  unassertive,  impetuous.

character notes. headcanons, school notes, and more

def  has  nightmares  and  has  grown  accustomed  to  not  being  able  to  get  a  good  night's  sleep  pretty  much  ever.  she  always  looks  tired  tbh

there  are  some  days  where  any  triggering  words  that  remind  her  of  her  past  with  her  mother  cause  lily  to  space  as  her  mind  transports  her  to  the  very  memory.  she's  unresponsive  for  minutes  on  end  until  she  or  someone  else  manages  to  shake  her  out  of  it

she's  taken  to  intellectualization—a  ‘flight  into  reason’  where  a  person  avoids  certain  emotions  by  focusing  on  the  facts  and  logic  of  them  ??  makes  her  a  great  teacher  figure  bc  she  will  mansplain  u  to  death  basically

not  a  very  touchy  person,  and  doesn't  rly  like  hugs  or  physical  affection

loves  ballet  !!  originally  only  signed  up  for  it  to  get  herself  out  of  the  house  during  the  summers  bc  it  would  send  her  into  fits  of  panic  every  day  being  'stuck  in  the  house'  ?  and  fell  in  love  with  it

almost  always  has  bruises  somewhere  on  her  body  due  to  ballet,  and  she’s  prone  to  poking  and  prodding  at  them  out  of  boredom.

her  pet  is  a  budgie  (  parakeet  )  named  belle,  often  perched  on  her  shoulder  wherever  she  goes  !!  lily  literally  never  goes  anywhere  without  her

has  never  stepped  foot  in  the  kitchens,  and  the  great  hall  is  a  saving  grace  but  she  won't  even  go  into  the  kitchen  in  her  own  house  during  the  summers

[jongbross]

OK so I was thinking about something… I imagined I met the members and having to talk to them makes me feel so shy and embarrassed lmao. Like, imagine you stand/sit there in front of them and you’re just “😶” (in my case). Mostly because the thoughts I have about them 🤭 lol. Idk it’s just my opinion, I’d get intimidated by those grown men (I’m a grown woman tho). I’m curious about yours~~

okay, here's how i imagine i would react to talking to the members:

minseok: i think i would get REALLY nervous, but i would know how to hide it. if it was on a fancall though i would need to clean my room or he would probably scold me 🥴 i would tell him how proud i am of him, and how he never fails to make me smile.

junmyeon: i would do my best not to cry, but i probably would. junmyeon would smile and be like "nooo, don't cry". it wouldn't be hard to talk to him though, and i don't think i would get too nervous. it probably would feel like talking to an old friend 🥹

yixing: i would shit myself just by being near this man. i respect yixing SO MUCH, it's crazy. would probably shake a lot and he would be confused. i would also thank him for working so hard, for voicing my fears and desires, and would try to make him understand that we will ALWAYS love him, that eris/xbacks aren't going anywhere.

baekhyun: good luck to him because i would ugly cry the whole time. i feel like i have a strong connection to baekhyun, so i would have so many things to tell him but i wouldn't be able to. emotion would probably get the best of me and i would cry, cry and cry.

jongdae: the exact same thing. he's my person, he changed my whole life with 'i don't even mind'. i would probably ugly cry and ask him if i could show him my tattoo (it's on my ribs, so of course i would need his permission). good luck to understand my mumbling while i cry tho, dae 🤷‍♀️

chanyeol: i would probably have an anxiety attack before, but i would be pretty chill while talking to him, i think. i love chanyeol sooo much but he's just so nice, so cute. would put an extra effort into making him laugh.

kyungsoo: same thing as chanyeol. my ultimate goal would be to make this man laugh, crack a smile, look at me with shining big eyes. i would probably talk to him about movies though, not exactly music (even though i love singer kyungsoo, of course).

jongin: i don't know what to say here, truly. would probably be really, really nervous. i would tell him how cool i think he is, wouldn't get too emotional otherwise i would faint in front of him lol would also probably give him that letter i posted here once 🥺

sehun: wouldn't be a bit nervous, just really excited. sehun is like the best person out there, so i would try to make him comfortable while i tell him how cool he is. the moment i walk away though i would probably fall to my knees and cry for a whole hour because i just talked to my best friend.

[beminseok]

✏️

WAKE ( e—bow ) / * i never thought i’d get this close ‘cause you’re so beautiful.

( tw for : implied death, murder, blood. )

it’s a marriage that never sees the light. or, rather. minseok and sua’s love — never sees the light. not when they’ve dragged each other down, hand—in—hand, buried six—feet deep with a loose prayer to meet in the next life under different, better circumstances.

❪ THE STORY OF STAR—CROSSED LOVERS PUT EVEN ROMEO AND JULIET TO SHAME. ❫

it starts off with a simple glance during a banquet held in the honor of the king and queen. it lingers on one another for longer than it should, longer than either had intended — traces of focus snapping away with the announcement to the lot of future endeavors, cheers cascading across the room. minseok is silent with his joy, instead, his eyes scan amongst the crowd for the girl he’d just been observing, only catching a glimpse of the pearl—silk dress from the corner of the door that inevitably leads towards the garden of the palace. and as if second nature, the duke follows suit.

minseok meets sua where the statue of aphrodite lies and where the stars gaze upon them. the noble of which had been rumored to be cold, and distant — melts in the presence of the girl; in spite of her iciness that matches him in equal measure. he’ll marry her at the cost of everything, he swears. a duke from an esteemed house, and a duchess that hails from a family carrying the ghosts of many. may they be together in life and death.

❪ YOU LOVE EACH OTHER, YOU DO. AND HERE’S THE TRAGEDY ﹕ IT’S NOT ENOUGH. ❫ jin minseok gets what he wants. except, everything begins to crack and fall apart when the engagement of two settles deep into bones. two halves of the same whole, and yet. neither minseok or sua are saints. the truth is, minseok is paying for the sins of sua; her angel—blessed hands tainted by violent reds and a darkness that simmers beneath ribcage.

there’s a familiar shade of crimson that pours from the blade—wound to abdomen, seeping through the cracks of his fingers and staining the carpet. sua is bleeding the same way as he is, minseok has noticed. this is the closest he’s ever been to sua. but. were they not in one another’s arms just a moment ago? vowing to love one another for eternity through tears? betrayal tastes bitter, inorganic. through gritted teeth, and a fist clenched around the sword to wedge it further into bodies entangled with each other, a promise is made to the wife that almost was.

* I’LL LET YOU DRAG ME TO HELL IF IT MEANS YOU’LL HOLD MY HAND.

[ao3-oner]

Anonymous One2eus Crack Fic is Up! A few days late for 4/20, but this is what I'm smoking

I might un-Anon this in a few days but I find it funnier if the story comes from a "mysterious source"... ofc the only true part about this fic is the fact that my sleep paralysis demon takes the form of Ryu Minseok asking if I believe in God...

I had a lot of back-and-forth about whether I should rate this T or M, but I went with M first because I'd rather rate it too restrictively than too accessibly and second because I thought it was funnier that way >:)

(in case you haven't figured it out, I do 75% of what I do for the lols. 15% is for the drama. 10% for the vine)