#this is called productive anger management

[meimi-haneoka]

Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card - a timeline of events

Here we are, I said I would do it and I did! 😁

This is a timeline of the events depicted in Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card, placed correctly in chronological order inside the bigger Cardcaptor Sakura story.

As explained at the beginning of the timeline itself, it is mainly intended as an aid to people who have already read all 3 arcs and might find confusing to place all the events in the correct order, as Clear Card revealed lots of events that pre-date the Clow Card Arc storyline. It is not suitable for people who haven't read the full story.

I heavily summarized the events of Clow and Sakura Card Arc because I believe by now all of us know them by heart. I tried to focus mainly on Clear Card Arc, since it's the more complex one, giving a recap of the events (and even this, is heavily summarized as it skips scenes mainly related to the relationships and bonds between the characters - I tried to keep it very plot-focused).

Because of this, the timeline is full of spoilers right from the beginning, and it is NOT intended as a replacement for a proper reading of the story (as in, don't read this and then go around saying you know the Clear Card story, cause you don't).

Whenever ages/years have been openly stated in-story, I included it in the timeline too (i.e., Kero says he slept 30 years inside the Clow Book, hence this also tells us that Clow died 30 years prior the events of Clow Card Arc).

There's a count for Kaito's time-rewinds, just for fun!

That said, you can check the animated timeline HERE. I used Visme to make it, as it makes things easier to read and it's cuter and more fun than making a post here!

Preview of how it'll look like:

If you liked it and was helpful for you, you're welcome to share it! 😁

[agirlcandream84]

he fucks you too hard and you cry x reader w frank?

Thank you for the request! I almost feel bad for Frankie writing this! But I will anyway :)

Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 1,710

Minors DNI. ----------------

Stop. The word popped in your head with your knees smashed into your chest as Frank fucked you so hard that you felt the skin on the back of your thighs and ass grow tender and raw. Frank had your calves hugged to his chest, a bulky arm wrapped around your shins, as the slam of his hips left your hands scrambling for purchase in the bunched up sheets.

You had never established a safe word with Frank. The idea of it seemed almost silly. A word to keep you safe from Frank? The man was safety personified. He worshipped the ground you walked on. He protected you from things that didn't need protecting. He put you first, always. It wasn't as though you didn't want one with him, the idea of it had just never crossed your mind.

In fact, you typically loved Frank's restrained power during sex. You craved his passion and even a little pain-- sex with Frank was often not without its marks. His calloused hand squeezing the smooth silk of your neck. A stinging slap to your ass as Frank filled you thoroughly from behind. A firm tug to your hair, your back arching to grant access that much deeper. It was the implicit trust and safety with him that made these moments possible at all.

But in this moment, Frank's brows furrowed, his grunts erratic and laced with something like anger, all you could think was stop. You had already cum, twice and hard, but Frank was relentless tonight. You had sensed the set of his jaw when he came home after a meeting with Billy but he shrugged it off with a "nah, nuthin' a pretty girl like you needs to worry about." But you knew he was still bothered, catching him in a stare while his thumb drummed on the countertop.

Truthfully, you were already feeling sensitive. Your favorite dress from last season was feeling more snug than normal and you had gotten into an argument with a product manager at work. And maybe you weren't exactly in the mood for sex but the way Frank tugged you close after the shower, his nose taking a deep inhale of your freshly washed hair and his hand easily unknotting the towel around your chest, you let yourself be persuaded with his touch.

Frank will make it better. He always does.

What you craved was softness tonight. Reverence. Those nights were Frank spent what felt like hours with his face buried between your legs, only coming up for air to coo at how fucking good you tasted. Or something like slow morning sex, with your leg draped over his hip, him dragging his cock slowly in and out from behind you, his fingers giving your clit the attention it needed until you were a sleepy, smiley puddle of goo in his hands.

But what you got was different. And maybe if it were any other day you'd cum for the third time and beg him to go harder. But it was today and now and all you could think was stop. Please stop. Tears well in the corners of your eyes and you reach your hands to press against the tops of his thighs, an attempt to slow the force of him. To gain just a moment to catch your breath.

Frank misses the cue, mumbling "Fuck sweetheart," as he grips your legs and lifts your ass an inch off the bed, his pace quickening to a pound-pound-pound-pound so that your body feels annihilated and used.

The sob chokes out of your mouth almost involuntarily. Your hand flying to cover your face as you beg him to "stop, stop, stop."

Immediately he stops. A "fuck" flying out of his mouth, his brows twisted in confusion and he calls your name and bends to scoop you gently from the bed. Once the floodgates have opened you find the crying hard to control, your mouth gulping for air as your chest heaves.

Frank twists to sit on the bed with you held firmly in his lap, brushing the hair out of your face to find your eyes. Pleading evident in his tone as he says, "Fuck, you gotta talk to me doll. I hurt you? Did I hurt you baby?" as he rocks you slowly back and forth, the motion meant to soothe you and him.

"S-s-s-sorry," you attempt to start, the gulping breaths still winning over, "didn't feel it right."

"It didn't feel right sweetheart. I believe you. It didn't feel right," he repeats back, still swaying back and forth, his eyes darting around the room in panic. He makes to shift you slightly and you hiss, the movement aggravating the tender skin of your thighs and ass.

"Fuck fuck fuck." he mumbles to himself, assessing his damage, "Hurts there doll?" he asks and you nod your head.

"sensitive," you mumble, casting a glance up to his eyes for the first time and seeing the crumpled, devastated look on his face.

"Ok if I take a look sweetheart?" he asks, his voice so soft you barely him hear. "Would that be alright?"

"uh-huh," you nod and he gingerly shifts you in this lap to peak at the backs of your thighs and your ass, the skin angry and chapped. He lets a slow breath out of his mouth, an attempt to steady the bubbling rage directed inward. He'd find the time to hate himself later, right now he needed to make it right with you.

"Gonna lay you down on the bed, yeah?" he asks, meeting your eye again and nodding at you to confirm your agreement. You nod back and hold tight to his neck as he twists to face the bed and gently lay you stomach-down, avoiding the tender skin. He guides a pillow just along your side so you can hug it, propping your body on its side, positioning your top leg to drape across the pillow. He reaches for the lotion off the bedside table and takes three big pumps before working it between his hands.

"Need you to take a few deep breaths for me honey. Might sting for a minute but's gonna help, alright?" he instructs, his tone soft. You nod and squeeze your eyes shut at the slight sting of the cool lotion as Frank starts to delicately work it into your chaffed skin. "Doin' so well sweetheart," he offers, "almost done."

Once he's finished he tugs the blanket up to cover your form, again fixing the hair out of your face. "Sweetheart I-- " he starts but stops, releasing a deep breath. "Fuck sweetheart, I'm so sorry. So fuckin' sorry," he adds, an agitated hand swiping down his face as he kneels on the ground in front of the bed to be eye level with you.

"Frankie s'okay," you reply quietly, "I'm ok. Promise. Just...had a bad day. Feel so stupid," you add.

"Hey hey, no, none of that doll. I.... I got too rough," he says, shaking his head as if to rid it of the memory, "I fucked up. You don't deserve shit like that."

"Lay with me?" you ask, "please." He felt so far away. Despite the proceedings, Frank felt like the only safe space. You craved his dependable solidness. The safety of his arms engulfing you.

"You sure you want that sweetheart?" he asks, his thumb skimming your cheekbone and his eyes searching your face. You nod and grasp his hand, mumbling another "please" before he climbs in gingerly behind you, his body cupping yours and a big hand making long, slow circles on your back.

You weren't sure when you had dozed off but when you woke, Frank wasn't there. You gather the blanket around your naked body and pad into the living room, Frank seated in silence, the room dark but for the streetlight, jumping to his feet the minute you step into the room.

"What's the matter sweetheart? You alright?" he asks urgently, standing in front of you in three long strides and his hands landing on your hips. "Somethin' hurt?," he adds, his eyes raking over your form.

"No I just...." you trail off. "Don't do this. Please," you plead, beckoning Frank off the edge of self-loathing that he teetered on.

"I'm not -- you're not safe with me sweetheart. That's the truth," he rumbles, matter of fact but his toned laced with disgust. You bristle at his statement, the fallacy of it striking and obvious.

"Bullshit," you respond, his eyes snapping to yours. "That's bullshit and you know it," you assert, feeling indignant that Frank let indulgent self-loathing threaten the safe space you'd both created.

"It's not fucking bullshit," Frank retorts, anger fueling him, almost mad that you won't hate him as much as he hates himself. "I did this," he says spinning your body and lifting the blanket, the product of his effort on display. "Me. Fucked you like a monster and I hurt you. I hurt the woman I love," he adds, his voice close to shouting.

"Say it again," you ask him, refusing to look away from him.

"I fuckin' hurt you!" he shouts back.

"No, the other part," you demand.

"The woman I love," he says, his voice still raised but the simmering rage dissipating.

"Say it again," you reply.

"The woman I love," he responds, softening. "The woman I fucking love. Fuck sweetheart. Fuck I never wanna fuckin' hurt you but that's what I do. I get people hurt," he adds, the vulnerability cracking through. The rage and self loathing only flimsy shield to keep terrifying vulnerability at bay.

"I'm not afraid of you Frank. I'm not afraid with you. I'm safe with you. And I love you," you murmur, your hands handing on either side of his face, fingertips tickling in the bristle on his jaw.

His neck cranes down to lean his forehead against yours, his hands making their way back around your waist to tug you closer. "Don't wanna hurt you like that again," he says.

You nod in agreement, and he adds, "Need you to speak up too ok? Gotta tell me how you're feelin', yeah?" and you nod again before his big hand cups your jaw and you let your eyes fall shut.

"Come on sweetheart, lemme take care of you," he murmurs, bending to gently lift you from behind the knees and supporting your back and walking to the bedroom.

[ggidolsmuts]

Our Love Language is Sex - ITZY Ryujin

"Woojin sunbae, I think I like you..."

No Ryujin, what are you doing? You told her to tell him how she felt, not tell him how she felt in front of everyone else! You can't see her expression from behind, but the sunbae's lip lifts to one side in disgust.

"What? Ew, no. Sorry Ryujin." His tone was anything but sorry.

"Damn, I'm jealous bro." One of his mates said.

"Yeah? You can have her then, how about it Ryujin?" The way the love of her young life offers her away so easily shatters her heart, and she sniffles and runs. His words as she leaves rings in her ear, stinging her as she leaves.

"Guess not, sorry bro." You hurry to catch up to her, finding her crying in a classroom. Quietly you slide the door open and close it behind you.

"Ryujin... You okay?"

"Obviously, fucking, not!" She turns to face you, her sadness stained with anger. "It's all your fault!"

"My fault?"

"You said to tell him how I felt!"

"Yeah, but not in front of everyone! Find a private spot or something, like here!"

"You should have said that then!" Ryujin shouts back at you, landing a punch on your chest. "How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought you would have some sense! Fuck you're thick sometimes."

"Fine I'm thick, just go and fuck off then!" Your back hits the wall as she pushes you away. Damn it, you were here to comfort her, not get angry at her!

"Ryujin that's not what I meant."

"I don't care! I don't want to see you!"

"Come on Ryujin." You grab her wrist, and she flings her arm to get you off, catching you in the face.

"Oh shit, I'm— I'm telling you to go away!" she shouts. Her blood runs cold looking at your stunned expression. She should have apologized, why didn't she apologize! "I mean I'm—"

"I get it, I'm sorry I came." You turn around and exit the classroom, slamming the door shut.

-----

You barely speak to Ryujin in school after, and you graduate and move on with your life just like she has. 

Until today.

You knew your company was engaging ITZY as a spokesperson for their products, and you saw their commercials pop up in your office sometimes, but you never expected to see them in your office.

"All in us, we are ITZY! Thanks for having us!" Your coworkers cheer and clap. The members proceed to introduce themselves.

"Hello, I'm Ryujin, nice to meet everyone!" You blink and confirm what, or rather who you are seeing—not just ITZY's Ryujin, but the Ryujin who you went to school with all those years ago. You had heard that she became a trainee, but you never made the connection, that ITZY's Ryujin and your Ryujin were one and the same. Her appearance on the commercials and posters seemed familiar, but you never gave it much thought.

Ryujin scans the crowd, used to the wall of phones staring right back at her. Oddly enough, someone is watching without their phone up—maybe he doesn't know who they are. He's staring right at her, through her, and the face is suddenly familiar.

No way.

Your gaze catches Ryujin's, and her eyes widen in recogniztion, mouth opening slightly, as if to call out. Hurriedly you nod and bow slightly, and Ryujin gives a small nod in return, a puzzled expression briefly on her face before she quickly goes back to being a professional idol and smiling for the cameras.

After sweeping the room with a smile, Ryujin looks back to where he stood just a moment ago, only to find him gone. That was surely him! She scans the crowd of office workers, but everyone else has a phone up. Where did he go? The rest of the schedule goes as normal—a couple of office workers ask her to sign a few personal items, but not him.

"Manager oppa, let me use the washroom real quick."

"Sure, we'll wait in the lobby."

A few hurried steps—where did he go, he can't have gone far!

"Ryujin-ssi, are you looking for something?"

"Yes I—" She interrupts herself, hearing his name behind her.

"Hey, you just missed out on ITZY, can you believe they were here?! Whoa!" Ryujin surprises both you and and your fanboying co-worker. "Oh my god hello!"

"Ah yes, hello!" She greets him nicely before bringing her gaze to you. "Hey."

"Oh, yeah umm, hey. It's been a while."

"Mmhmm."

"Wait, you know him Ryujin-ssi?"

"Yeah, we were classmates, if you could excuse us."

"Oh, of course! Would you mind signing this—" Ryujin grabs his notebook and signs it quickly, and you get a jovial and envious nudge from your co-worker before you are left alone with her.

"How have you been?" Ryujin asks softly.

"Good," you reply succintly. Never has a single word so poorly summarized your life since that moment years ago. Suddenly you had no one to gossip with, no one to share secrets with, no one to veg out with on slow weekend afternoons.

----- 

"If you think about it, clouds are just leaky water balloons." Ryujin mutters as she lays next to you.

"What? That makes no sense." You shoot back.

"Just like you having a crush on that girl, Jisoo? What do you even see in her?"

"Oh, so now we're back on that? She seems nice, and she's cute!"

"Aish, I just don't like her. And since when did you like cute? You hated my aegyo, what if Woojin oppa likes it?"

"Him?" All he wants is to get with you! You couldn't bring yourself to say that. "He likes the sexy style. Guys are all perverts."

"Just like you right? I know you go mad at any girl who shakes her hips hmm? Anyways I'm sure Woojin oppa is different! If I'm sincere he'll feel it!"

"Yeah sure, go try that if you want." Sometimes you're so naive! You didn't add.

"Fine I will, hmph!"

-----

"How about you? Your group's doing well." he asks her. How was it for her, Ryujin thinks to herself... And seeing him for the first time in years, she remembers it sucked.

-----

"Ryujin, are you okay? Should I let the teacher know you can't do the trainee evaluation tomorrow?"

"Yes Yeji-unnie, it's just a cold, I can do the evaluation tomorrow, I have to," she manages to suppress a sniffle from beneath the covers. She pulls out the phone she hid inside her pillowcase, careful to not let any light leak out into the room. Her thumbs work on muscle memory—she needs to talk to someone. It stops at a familiar name, but it belongs to someone she could no longer talk to. Ryujin's lips quiver—it has been weeks since then, and he hasn't even reached out once! Yet she couldn't bring herself to be the one to reach out. She taps the phone against her forehead and hides a sob with a sniffle.

"Do you want some medicine?"

"No, I'm okay, thank you unnie, good night!"

"If you say so, good night."

Ryujin turns the phone off and slides it back under her pillow.

Just one message from you...

-----

"Yeah, it's all thanks to our fans."

"Nice, congratulations."

"Hmm? What for?"

"I dunno, I see ITZY winning a lot of stuff, I guess? I just never realized it was you, you look pre— I mean, your hair is very different now."

What was that? "O-Oh, yes, idol hairstyles, you know how it is." No of course he doesn't! Ryujin berates herself.

"Right..." There is an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of a manager or bodyguard calling out for her. "You should go, good to see you though."

"Yeah, yeah." Ryujin takes a quick peek around the corner and winces. "Hey, give me your phone!" You hand her your device, and she does a few quick taps.

"Ryujin-ssi?" A burly voice calls out.

"Yes I'm coming! Sorry I couldn't find the washroom!" She hurriedly calls out before returning you your phone. "Thanks, bye!" She disappears from sight around the corner, sounding all apologetic to the voice as they grow more distant.

You look down at your phone, it is a text to an unknown number, but clearly addressed to you.

*That's my number, I'll message you*

The old you would not have recognized the current you, going to your phone immediately when you hear it buzz, like you were a technology-addicted teenager once more. It had been months since you met Ryujin again, and things have been mending silently and slowly. She would text you, you would text back. You would see her group win one award or another, you would text her, and she would text back, albeit heavily delayed. Without seeing her in person, it is easy to forget what had happened between the two of you, and you are just glad to be messaging your old friend again. That is, until you see the current message buzzing on your phone.

*Hey, are you free for a coffee?*

You are in a cafe a few days later, one of the few still open late at night. You sit down across someone trying to be anonymous, donning a mask, cap, and a hoodie over all that. But you know she's Ryujin.

"Hey, at least take the mask off, do you know how much you stand out, someone who's wearing a mask, sitting in a cafe?"

"I was just waiting for you."

"Sure. What do you want, I'll go order."

"Just the usual—" Ryujin freezes. It has been so long, and yet reflexively she tosses out her order, like they are just doing a study session at a cafe near school instead, all those years ago.

"Sure." She stares at him walking away, and a thought strikes her—is he still the same?

The answer arrives along with her coffee as you sit down across from her, one arm across your chest, the other occupied with drinking coffee, one leg perched and crossed—defensive, guarded, cold.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I-I just wanted to catch up. It's been so long since we talked."

"And whose fault is that?" A chill goes down her spine, and it wasn't from the ice in her drink—it would not be a jovial reunion. Ryujin tries to keep it light.

"Are you still on about that? Come on, that was so long ago."

"Oh, so at least you haven't forgotten about it, I guess that's good." Each word is a heavy blow on her heart. "So why did you ask me here?"

"I was just wondering how you've been—"

"Now that you've remembered I exist? But never thought to reach out before that hmm? I should send my thanks to JYP for signing that deal."

"What? You could have reached out too!" Ryujin already felt guilty, and now she felt stung too by your barbs.

"Yes, but I didn't, because you asked me not to! You told me to go away." you hiss back. "And now that you want to talk to me again, you just reach out to me like nothing has happened?"

"What was I supposed to do? I was busy with being a trainee! I'm sorry okay? I should have said that then."

"Well you can stay busy being an idol then!" You jerk your head in self-annoyance—you were a little too loud, and people turn to look, making Ryujin tilt her head lower. "Come on, let's go." She nods and follows you out the door.

"I'm really sorry, I should have said that right after I hit you. I was just happy to see you again, I didn't think about how you felt."

"I'm... not unhappy to see you again, but I don't know if I can handle meeting you like nothing has happened."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, just give me time, it's one thing to text someone on the phone, it's another to see them again."

"How much time do you need?"

"Hopefully less than a few years—" you catch your own snide remark as you hear Ryujin sniffle, and it wasn't that cold out. "Sorry, that was low, I don't know."

"At least you said it right away," Ryujin bitterly jokes to herself. You shrug and pat her on her shoulder in goodbye.

"Good luck on your comeback."

After a long while Ryujin takes a sip of her bitter coffee, except now it is salty. How did it all go so wrong, how was she so completely off?

Ryujin drowns herself in her work, proving his words right as she stays busy being an idol. Every so often her members catch a small smile before the sides of her lips flatten out—she still exchanged messages with him, but they were more iced Americano than hot chocolate. Many times she debated just sending a message, asking him if they could meet, but fearful of rejection, she could never bring herself to.

"What's up?" Yeji asks, sitting down next to her. "You keep smiling and then frowning at your phone."

"You know that guy I met at that event? The one I said I knew from school?"

"Yeah, at that company thing? You said you were close friends."

"We were, but I did something back then, and now we're not close anymore." She spills her history with him to Yeji.

"That's it? I mean, if he's still holding a grudge then fuck him."

"Yeah but, he's not wrong. We were close, I hit him, and I never even said sorry until now."

"You did say sorry this time right?"

"Yes, he said he needed time."

"Just give him time then, he has his life, if he wants you back in his life, then he'll let you know. Or if you want him back in yours, just reach out and ask, you don't know if you don't ask. But it's not like he has been a part of yours for years now right?"

"I guess."

"Exactly, at least you're texting with him now, he hasn't ghosted you, that should count for something!"

"No you're right, you're right, thanks unnie." Ryujin steels herself as Yeji leaves her room. She can do this, it's just one text, she's not asking him out on a date, she just wants to catch up! Maybe she can ask him out for drinks, maybe with other people around so that it won't get awkward, she can do that! But... maybe next week! First she has to look up when the next company hweshik is, yes, the message can wait.

"Hey, say hi, this is my old friend, I've known him since forever!" Ryujin introduces you to her group, pushing you down between two of her members before sitting down opposite you. Introductions go around, and you recognize the two members next to you as Yeji and Chaeryeong. Food and drinks arrive, although it seems like Ryujin is the only one drinking, and the atmosphere remains awkward—when Ryujin asked to catch up over drinks you assumed it would be a quiet thing, and certainly not in a group setting.

"Yah, don't try to be an idol around him and just take little sips, he's seen me do stupid stuff before, just drink!" Yeji and Chaeryeong start off slow, but soon they begin to take swigs, and you begin to do the same, and as the alcohol begins to flow, so does the conversation.

"So what was Ryujin like in school? Did she study at all, I bet she didn't!" Chaeryeong jokes.

"No no, she did study, she studied my homework." You joke, to raucous laughter from the ITZY members and staff.

"No I didn't, I even did better than you on exams!" But of course, no one listens to her. She is mollified after some placating from her members and more food on her plate, and the conversation flows on until the inevitable question.

"So, who's your favorite member in ITZY?" Chaeryeong asks, giggles bubbling out of her. It sparks a titter around you.

"Yah that's so boring!" "You're just saying that because you won't win!" "You're just saying that because he knows you!" "Says the one who spent 15 minutes choosing an outfit!" "Says the one who spent 30 minutes on make up today!" Ryujin blushes at the last comment—did she really spend 30 minutes on makeup today?

You save her the embarrassment by calming them down.

"I'll be honest, it's very nice to meet all of you, but I don't really know enough about any of you? So I guess all of you are my favorites?"

"Boo, cop out, drink! What if you had to choose? Like, I'll pay for your dinner today if you choose."

"Yeji unnie, don't make him pay for his dinner today! I'll cover you." Ryujin hastily butts in.

"Sure sure, I'll buy a second round of drinks if you choose." Ryujin makes to say something, but ultimately she has no retort and waits with the rest of them.

"I guess... since I know her the best, I'll go with Ryujin?" She pumps her fist, and rewards you with a healthy serving of grilled meat.

"Psh, wow, you gave the default answer. What if Ryujin isn't a choice, or who would be number two?"

"I guess number two would be—" your answer is drowned out by a roar as you see JYP the man himself, get on top of a table and start dancing, complete with plastic table sheet around his waist. The rest of the dinner and drinks flyby, and soon it is time to leave.

"It's nice to meet you all—" you start, but Ryujin cuts you off and throws an arm over your shoulder.

"No no, we're going to go for a round two, we need to catch up!"

"You can't Ryujin! We should go back home."

"No! I want a round two!" She yells, more than a little tipsy.

"You can't be seen in public like this!"

"I'll just drink at his house then!" She jerks a thumb in your direction. Their manager protests against it, and Ryujin yells back, but ultimately Yeji steps in.

"It's fine manager oppa, just let them catch up." After gently pushing the manager away Yeji turns to you. "Just go straight home with her okay? Take a taxi, make sure you two don't drink in public, and remind her to take a taxi back."

"Got it, I'll make sure she stays out of trouble." With that you half-walk and half-lurch with Ryujin into the back of a cab and back to your place. You open the door and Ryujin makes herself at home.

"Wow, living by yourself and everything, you've made it!"

"At least take your shoes off Ryujin!" They thud on your floor.

"Surely you have beer right?"

"Yeah, but all you get is one can."

"Cheapskate!"

"Fine, two cans." You grab four cans and sit down opposite her, and as you do so the alcohol suddenly hits you—you must have had more than you realized.

"Yah, so really, who would you choose from our members? Who's your favorite?" Ryujin asks him.

"What? How are you still on that?"

"Would you really choose me?" She persists, pestering and provoking you for an answer. She scoots herself closer. "Am I your favorite, am I the prettiest?"

"Well you did spend 30 minutes on makeup, so I guess?"

"Really? Awwww!" Ryujin clings on to him tightly.

"God of course you're a clingy drunk!" You try to break out of the embrace, but unfortunately you pause when you see Ryujin close up—she really is pretty tonight. Silently the two of you stare at one another, dual gazes dueling.

"Hey, you ever think... that we should have gotten together?" Ryujin whispers.

"What?"

"We had to deal with so many rumors back then, remember? Everyone thought we were dating."

"Idiots, all of them."

"You never considered it? I have..." She's an inch from you, maybe not even that. "I would have—" Ryujin crumples in your arms and passes out.

-----

"Argh, the girls are all saying I'm going out with you!"

"So?"

"Well we're not!"

"Exactly, so who cares?" You shrug and return to your video game.

"Me!"

"Why? Do you want us to go out so that it's true?" You are blind to Ryujin's blush, just as you get flashbanged in game.

"No that's not the point! It's about my image!"

"Sure sure, I don't have an image so I don't care. Let me know if you want us to go out."

"How can you joke about something like that!" She leaves in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

"Tch, I didn't say no did I?" You mutter under your breath.

----- 

Ryujin blinks and rubs the sleep from her eyes. She tries to get up, only to be suddenly aware of a firm arm around her.

"Mmm, just a little longer." The warm heat of his chest flows straight into her back. The hot breath on her neck makes her all warm and... tingly.

"Hey..." She whispers. "I need to go."

"No, stay—" you finally process the voice and your eyes snap open, to the back of someone's head, someone you knew far too well. "Ryujin? Dah!" You hurriedly let her go as she pushes herself away. "What happened last night?"

"I don't remember." She sits up and runs a hand through her hair. "Do you?"

"No, we sat down with beers, and then nothing after that."

"Ugh... Did we—" she checks herself, breathing a sigh of relief as she finds herself fully clothed.

"Of course not!"

"Yeah, like you're the one who has the most to lose here!" Ryujin fires back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The members will know I stayed the night, what do you think they'll think?"

"Just tell them the truth, we did nothing and you spooned me!"

"I? Spooned you? No no, the big spoon is the one doing the spooning, you spooned me."

"No, that's called a normal sleeping position, I wouldn't be spooning you if you didn't back yourself into me, little spoon."

"I'm not little— Whatever, I don't have time to argue, I have to go."

"Fine. Why did you even want to meet up?"

"What?" Ryujin asks, distracted and putting on her sneakers.

"You wanted to catch up, I came, except it was your hweshik? Like why?"

"I-I thought it would be a more casual setting, that's all."

"I mean, you're not wrong, but we ended up too drunk to talk after."

"Okay I'm sorry, let's meet up some other time, just us okay?"

"I'll hold you to do that." Ryujin waves goodbye, leaving the two of you annoyed and... frustrated, in more ways than one.

It is weeks later when Ryujin reaches out, and you begrudgingly agree to meet up yet again. You are more than slightly annoyed when you see someone sitting next to her.

"Ye... Ji, right?"

"Yes, you remembered!" Ryujin exclaims delightedly. "That saves me on introductions, I'll be right back!"  With that she's already off to order coffee for everyone. You greet Yeji with an awkward smile.

"How are you?"

"I'm good, you? It's good to meet you again, I was afraid Ryujin killed you after she didn't come back that night," Yeji jokes.

"We didn't do anything." You say automatically. "But that's a huge jump to make."

"Well, she came back with a guilty smile, like she enjoyed whatever she did that night. Her hair and makeup was fine, so clearly you didn't make a move on her—"

"I wouldn't make a move—"

"Which is so crazy to me, that her offing you isn't as large a jump to make."

"Ryujin's not—" Yeji's raised eyebrow stops you in your tracks. "I don't think of her that way."

"Really? She'll make you then, when she finally figures out she wants to."

You were about to ask what she meant, when Ryujin returns with the drinks. She puts your usual coffee order in front of you and sits down next to Yeji.

"So unnie, what do you think? Do you like him?"

"What?" You and Yeji nearly spit your drinks out.

"What are you talking about, isn't he your style?" Ryujin turns red and nearly spits her own drink out.

"No! He's my friend! I-I thought you were looking for someone unnie!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Ryujin what are you doing? I never asked you about Yeji." You nod your head slightly towards Yeji. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that, I just don't know you well at all." She dismisses you with a kind smile, or so you thought, but the smile was for other reasons.

"None taken." God I am looking at two idiots.

"You have to start somewhere don't you?" Suddenly thirsty, Ryujin's drink is almost gone already. "You're not... in a relationship are you?"

"No I'm not, but you can't spring something like this on people."

"He's right you know. You don't just randomly bring people together without them knowing and expecting something to happen."

"Okay so I missed a step, I thought it would be a good idea."

"I'm heading out," you say with finality, finishing the rest of your drink with a shudder—ugh, brain freeze. "Ryujin, if you want to catch up, I'm more than happy to, but I don't know why you're pussyfooting around me about just talking one-on-one. I'm more than happy to get to know Yeji if you would just tell me, or tell her, for that matter, beforehand."

"Sit." Just as firmly as he left them, Yeji sits Ryujin down once they return to the dorms. "So, why did you make up that stuff about me? You're going to use your unnie without telling her?"

"Sorry! I just felt that it would be too awkward with just the two of us."

"I thought you two are old friends."

"We are, but it's different now, we grew up, things change."

"You like him, he is your style."

"What? No that's not what's happening here."

"Please Ryujin, it's been weeks, months even, since you first saw him again, any other guy that didn't show interest you would have moved on, and yet here you are, you spent a night with him—"

"We didn't—"

"Let me finish," Yeji warns in her I'm-the-leader tone. "You spent a night and didn't do anything with him, and yet you are using your dear unnie as an excuse to see him again. It's one thing if the sex is good and you want an excuse to see him again, it's another if you two haven't slept together yet."

"We did sleep together! He spooned me!" Ryujin says defensively.

"You two really are cute little idiots. I don't know what is going on between the two of you, but here, I will book a nice hotel suite with two nice king-sized beds. You two can go there and have a nice conversation, make things not awkward, and if you're really just friends with him, you can each spend the night on a nice big comfy bed. If not, feel free to not sleep in one bed together, naked!"

"Yeji unnie!"

"You're being foolish, and so is he."

"What?"

"He cares enough to text you first sometimes, so he's not disinterested. All I'm saying is, you put not a boy and a girl, but a man and a woman, in a hotel room, and things may just turn out fine." Yeji pats Ryujin on the head. "Just let me prepare everything, and I'll tell you when okay?"

"Yes unnie."

You should have realized that something was up when Ryujin invited you to a hotel. You gave her the benefit of the doubt when you see Yeji meeting you in front of the hotel ("She insisted I show you to the room, that's all, I'm not staying."). You probably shouldn't have when you realize you were going up to a suite.

"What's going on?" you ask Yeji right outside the door. "Ryujin can afford this?"

"She can, but I paid for this. As the leader I feel partially responsible about what she did to you last time, so I set up the two of you to have a night in, just like old times. Movies, snacks, games, you name it!"

"I wasn't planning on staying a night here, I thought it would be at a restaurant or something."

"It's okay, I just thought a room would be quieter than a restaurant, you don't have to stay the night if you don't want to."

"I see, thanks, I guess. Where's Ryujin?" 

"She's in there already, go ahead." Yeji gives you a pat on your back as she leaves, and you wait for the ding of the elevator before knocking.

"Hey."

"Hey, thanks for coming."

"Sure. Whoa, Yeji really did prepare everything." That she did, a huge spread of snacks, food, and a counter of various coffees, soft drinks, and alcohol—looks like you wouldn't need to order room service. "So, what should we do first?"

"I don't know, game? What did we do back then?" Ryujin asks, fumbling with her bag of chips.

"Watch a movie? Or TV?" That sounded good, so you scooped up some snacks and joined Ryujin on the sofa in the "living room" of the suite. You see two Ryujins in the room.

"Whoa, what's that?" You ask, nodding to the TV.

"Oh, it's nothing, was just monitoring a recent performance."

"Monitoring?"

"Like, watching yourself, checking for mistakes, stuff like that."

"That sounds... a little narcisstic no? Watching your own performances?"

"It's just something we do." Ryujin tries to close the video, but you stop her.

"Can we watch? I've never seen you perform before actually." She hesitates for a moment but presses play. Ryujin sits down next to you, slightly tense—how would you react? To her bemused delight, the questions incoming are very naive.

"You are showing a lot of skin." "Uhh yeah, that's kinda in the job description."

"And... isn't it a little too tight?" "Again, also in the job description."

"When was this performance again?" "Like a week ago?" "How come your hair looks so different now?" "I go to the salon, you do know that there's more to hairstyles than cutting right?" She reaches for his hair before he reacts.

"You haven't done anything to your hair have you, even the hairstyle is the same. Touch my hair." Her heart skips a beat when his fingers brush her hair.

"Whoa, why does it feel like that?"

"There's a lot you can do to it, most are not great for the hair, but hey, we need to show different styles, and hair is the easiest way to do it." He runs his digits through her hair, and Ryujin shudders at the sensation—it was weirdly hot.

"Sorry, does it hurt?"

"N-No, but you should stop."

"Right, sorry."

"No problem, any more questions, or can we watch something that's not me?"

"Sure sure, just... wow that's a very different line work."

"Yeah. What do you want to watch?"

"Wait, sorry one last question." You lean in and squint at the video, and then glance at Ryujin. "How long does it take for you to look like that on stage? Just the makeup."

"About umm, 40 minutes, an hour. maybe more?"

"Really? And how much time did you spend today?"

"Like 20 minutes?"

"And last time was 30 minutes?"

"You don't have to remind me about that."

"Yes yes, but you probably don't need to spend that much time on makeup. You should tell your stylists that." It takes a moment for Ryujin to process the compliment, and she blushes a deep red, overpowering what makeup she had on.

"T-Thanks, I'll let them know."

"I um, yeah, no problem, just saying." You stutter a little, realizing how weird that sounded coming from you. "Should we watch a movie, or drama?"

"Umm yeah, how about a movie?" Ryujin starts one, but neither of you really notice what's on screen. Instead, the two of you talk and talk and talk—your interest in her work prompts her own curiosity, and she asks about your job, about your life. You swap stories, and although you feel like Ryujin's getting the short end of the stick—your stories pale in comparison to the entertainment industry's wild rumors, she is equally enthused all the same—more importantly you're finally catching up with her. Inevitably the times you're talking about go backwards in time.

"Remeber when—"

"Yeah, or when he—"

"Who was our maths teacher again, Miss—"

"Did you know that he had a crush on you?" "No way! Really? That explains a lot." "What happened?" "He always wanted to be in my group, even though I don't do anything for projects. He was very nice, but he didn't ask me out in the end."

"Wait, he did all that? When was this? How come I don't remember this? What if he did ask you?" Ryujin taps her chin thoughtfully at his question.

"Would I have said yes? I dunno, we got along but we never clicked."

"Huh, but seriously when was this, I don't remember this at all." She watches him frowning, looking up at the ceiling and trying to remember, and she realizes why he couldn't, and wouldn't, be able to remember.

"Oh, it's because I never told you, because we, you know."

"Oh. Right." And there it is, finally the topic broached.

"I'm really sorry that I hit you, I should have said sorry back then, and it cost us both a lot. I still regret it even now."

"I don't blame you Ryujin, I should have reached out again, but I was childish. I did exactly what you told me to, even though that isn't what either of us actually wanted." He puts a hand on her shoulder, an olive branch. "We should move on from that, okay? No more doing stupid stuff like inviting me to a blind date without either party knowing."

"Okay, sorry, sorry. Now never bring that up again, please."

"Yes, let's just watch the movie. Make sure you turn off your phone so that you won't arrange another one for me." Ryujin throws a cushion at you, but you grab it and hand it back to her, and she hugs it against her chest as the two of you settle into the couch. You two end up closer and closer together, until you're shoulder-to-shoulder with her, her head lightly resting on yours, just like the old days.

But the movie the two of you are watching are definitely not age-appropriate for the old days, as the male and female leads struggle against one another, locked in a fevered and contentious argumentative embrace, until they give into each other. He pins her against the wall, she pulls her top off and wraps her arms around his neck.

"Ahh, mmm!" He presses himself into her, his hands tight around her waist. Her hips wriggle, bucking against him as he slips his hand under her shorts. A short gasp. She pulls off his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest and muscular arms—

Oh yes! The screen reflects off Ryujin's irises, but she's playing her own scene in her head. Of her with someone, with said someone right next to her. She squirms a little, and suddenly notices two things—that she's tense, holding her breath; and that he's tense, and holding his breath; scratch that, make that three things she notices—she's wet, the inside of her thighs sticky with need. She needs to get out before they—

"This movie's boring, we should watch something else," he rasps.

"Y-Yeah, let's watch something else. Hah even when we were young you never liked the R-rated scenes." she jokes, hoping to lighten the palpable tension.

"Then why did you agree with me? The old you would have made sure we kept watching. Let's keep watching then." You jostle her, making sure to keep a cushion over your lap.

"No, let's not, it's weird watching it with a guy."

"Oh, so now I'm a guy? Do you see me as a man? Are you interested in me, hm hm hm?" you play it off as a joke, but you are taken aback at Ryujin's lack of outraged denial.

"Why, are you interested in me?" Ryujin panics, and with the situation getting out of hand, she tries to solve it the only way she knows how—by throwing it back harder. "Now that I'm in a girl group, you're interested in me now aren't you? Did you enjoy my fancams just now?"

"N-No, of course not! And don't sit like a lady now, what happened to manspreading all over the couch like you used to? Are you hiding something?" Ryujin spreads her legs slightly, making herself all the more aware of her own arousal, and praying it doesn't show on her tight pants. Hurriedly she tries to escalate even further, to draw attention away from herself—she grabs his cushion and pulls it away, revealing his bulge. Daringly she grabs him, and his slight hiss just makes her wetter—because of his reaction, and because he is far more prominent than his jeans would suggest.

"What's this? I thought you weren't interested in me, hmm?" He slaps her hand away almost childishly.

"Of course not, that was just the movie being hot, not you! What about you!" He hovers a hand on her flat stomach, threatening to move down. "I wonder how wet you are down there, just from the movie right?"

"Of course! And if you're not interested in me, prove it!" Ryujin tries to escalate once more to "win" the argument. "Hit me!"

"What? You're crazy."

"No, I still feel bad about what I did all those years ago. I know you said you're over it, but I'm not, not until you hit me, so go ahead, hit me!" She grabs his arm, pulling it to her face, trying to make the hand connect.

"Ryujin I'm not going to hit you!"

"Why not, do you like me? I thought you weren't interested."

"No, you're just being stupid, I am not going to hit you. Ryujin!"

"Even if I feel bad? Even if I want you to hit me?"

"Especially if you want it, I won't hit you!" He is hypocritical though, and as Ryujin struggles harder he hits her.

In the face.

On her cheek.

Gently.

It is a warm, soft caress of her cheek, and he's pressed against her lips, kissing her hard. Ryujin's hand relaxes as her heart pounds against her chest. She puts both hands around his neck, pulling him in—god she wants this right now! The kiss spikes in intensity, but she can feel him draw back, slightly unsure. Her lips part, and she licks his slightly, and reassured he tongue-tangoes with her, soft moans coming from both of them. The kiss that started off by catching both of them by surprise quickly burns into something more, into apology, into making up for years of lost time, into pure lust.

Your free hand goes down from her neck to her shoulders, carelessly brushing the bra strap off. You wrap an arm around her back, hugging and holding her close—for the first time you realize that Ryujin's slim, a side-effect of her job. It made you want to protect her, to make sure no one would ever say no to her and hurt her and—

And to devour her. Your hand goes to her hip, and you freeze when she freezes, the fingertips touching her warm skin underneath her top retreating slightly. You feel her hand grab your wrist, did you go too far? No, she wants you to go further, putting your hand on her midriff and pushing you down, beneath her pants, and then one layer more.

"Fuck..." Ryujin can't help but whine as his fingers brush over her lips, instantly coating them with stickiness. Her body moves on its own, she's grabbing on to his arm, keeping him there, and she's bucking her hips, urging him to just curl his fingers and—

"Mmmm!" You could cum in your jeans right now just hearing Ryujin groan as you push two fingers into her. Your breath is heavy and hot on her lips while you try to hold the kiss, even as Ryujin squirms against you—she's tight and sticky and wet. "It feels so good, make me cum!" You hear her plead—you have never seen her quite like this, but you can't even begin to process that thought as her lips find your neck and suck harshly. You pay her back in kind, just as she desires, with firm pushes of your fingers into her, over and over. She cries out into your neck when your tips graze her just right, and soon her walls convulse and contract, making it even easier for you to rub her weak spot.

"Cum for me Ryujin." She nods into his neck, whining in pleasure as she gets even closer to her peak. He's growling in her ear, making her pussy squelch and leak. She squirts a little against his palm as he tugs on her earlobe, and he's hitting her in the sense that his cheek bumps against hers as she jerks erratically in ecstasy.

"Cum for me if you love me." WHAT? I don't— Her mind blanks out as he rubs g-spot roughly, and she muffles her scream against his neck, the pleasure paralyzing her, interrupting her own disgreement. She remembers being tense against him, as if reaching up to cling to him. Yet when she comes to she's lying on the sofa, his weight pressed on her comfortably.

"Asshole," she whispers a weak retort. "I don't love— ah!" He takes her breath away again, kissing her passionately. "Whatever you say dear," is the look he gives her after the kiss, and it infuriates Ryujin, makes her want to get back at him. Get back at him in a way that she really wants to right now.

"Get off me," Ryujin pouts and mutters, and you acquiesce, slowly pulling your fingers out from her—her stickiness and tightness isn't a feel you would soon forget. Ryujin unbuttons your jeans, pulling it and your boxers to your knees. She presses herself into you, and with a muted moan you respond to her grasping your cock. Her hand runs up and down your length, all the way from base to tip.

"Do I feel good?" she whispers into your ear. Her free hand runs up and down your body, further stimulating you. "You want me to go faster?" The sound that leaves you is almost a whine. "You'll cum for me right? Cum for me if you love me too? Hmm?" Ryujin teases and baits you.

"No I won't," you mutter through heavy breaths, trying and failing to calm yourself down.

"You won't, even if I do this?" She runs a finger over your head, rubbing the underside of it. Where the fuck did she learn to do that! "No? Maybe I should stop?" She runs her palm over your head before pulling away, going back to stroking your shaft. Ryujin's a master baiter.

"No, don't stop!"

Ryujin's glad he says no, as she's not sure she can even stop herself. It's one thing to grab him over clothing, it's a completely different matter to see and touch it in the flesh, feeling his thickness, his length—she's suddenly thinking about it way too much. He grabs her thigh suddenly, squeezing it as he closes in on his own orgasm. His cock throbs in her hand—she can't wait to feel it burst, and then to feel it inside her. But first, she has to win. 

You groan as Ryujin slinks down your body, positioning herself between your legs. No, surely she wouldn't— Keeping her eyes trained on you the whole time and making sure you are watching her, Ryujin opens her mouth and pushes her lips past your tip, and then past your head, and then most of your shaft.

Cum for me if you love me! Of course, Ryujin's words aren't quite that clear, what with having your cock in her mouth, but her garbled sounds are abundantly clear in meaning. You don't have it in you to resist, and so you fall for Ryujin hard.

"Fuck Ryujin..." The low moan of her name, the sudden grab on her head, the jump of his cock in her mouth, and finally his thick salty load hitting the back of her throat and sliding down her gullet, it all serves to turn Ryujin on even more. As he shudders through his orgasm, the hand on her head runs through her hair, squeezes her scalp gently—Ryujin thoughts dull, focusing on all the sensations he's giving her. It's only when he softens, and her mouth no longer fully filled does she realize that he's done, and that she's drooling a little over his shaft. She looks up, only to find him leaning back, drained and wasted, but she wants more, and she swallows the last of his seed before getting back to work.

"Ryujin!" You wince in oversensitivity as Ryujin starts to stroke you again, adding licks of her tongue on your spent shaft. You firm up a little in her hands, and you get a little harder when she stops to remove her top and pants, revealing a set of simple black underwear. You get a lot harder, recovering to full strength with what she says next.

"I-I need more, I want us to do more." She walks away, her black panties sticking tightly to the apex of her thighs. The slight jiggles of her butt hypnotizes you, and you almost trip over your own pants as you try to follow her to the bedroom.

Ryujin laughs as she hears him stumble on the way over. There is a lot less laughing as he walks through the door, naked and stiffly pointing in her direction, before kissing her and pressing her into the soft bed. A brief fumble, and her bra falls away. In minor embarrassment she covers herself, but he pulls her hands away to plant kisses all around her chest and neck.

"No marks," she whispers, and he responds with a gruff note, that he heard her, but he's not happy about it. She rewards him with an unreserved moan as he pinches and rubs her stiff nubs, swirling his tongue around one, and then the other. There is a sheen of moisture over her flat tummy as he drifts down her body—why did she feel so warm? Ryujin burns a little hotter as he squeezes her thighs again, this time to spread them. His nose nudges against her mons, and her scent gets even thicker at the contact, and as he pulls her underwear to the side. "Don't— nngh!" his tongue catches her by surprise, and soon his warm breath is all over her core, licking and flicking and pressing, making her melt into a mess. And yet she needed more, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"No more, no need..." She pushes you away with a foot, kicking away her panties and removing the last piece of clothing she had on. You join her on the bed, and her legs quickly hook you close, lightly trapping you, the two of you are so close together now.

"Ryujin!" You gasp a final question to her as your shaft touches her entrance. There were many lines crossed today, all of which the two of you could probably ignore or be in denial about in the future, but the line you're on now is one that both of you know would be the Rubicon of your relationship, that things will undeniably change afterwards. But you look at Ryujin, and she is more than willing to leap over that line, and to challenge you to take the leap yourself. She grabs your cock, lining you up with her, adjusting herself until your tip catches her—just the tip, just a toe over the line. She wants you to do the rest.

It's happening, shit, he's so— The pressure in Ryujin's abdomen grows exponentially as the distance closes between their hips. Every time she's sure she can't take anymore of him, he gets deeper, his brows twitching with each inch he pushes into her.

"So tight..." Ryujin clenches even harder around him when she hears his muttered moan. She feels so full, so utterly stuffed, she has to arch her back, as if to try to stretch herself more, to make more room for him. He starts moving soon after, and the pleasure begins to slowly build up. But not fast enough!

"Faster!" you hear her moan.

"I don't want to hurt you," you mumble. She's just too tight to push through roughly, but she disproves that by bucking her hips up into you, and a jolt of pleasure goes up your spine. Her hands wrap around your neck once more, and her eyes are bright and eager. And also mischievous.

"Fuck me if you love me." She gives you no choice, and you willingly up the pace, and her tightness makes you thrust harder. Soon you are fucking her hard and fast with body-rattling strokes. Ryujin's moans get louder and wilder, her voice cracking when you hit deep in her. Her walls tremble around you, and your cock throbs in response to her quick contractions—both of you are close. Bewilderingly she stops you briefly, just as both of you are about to fully ascend in bliss.

"Do me from behind, I don't want you to see me."

"What?"

"I don't want you to watch me cum," Ryujin struggles and tries to push herself off the bed, but he grabs her arms, pinning them against the bed.

"But I want to." She weakly tries to fight back, but his forehead presses against hers, and he's all that she can see, all that she can feel as his cock plunges into her even harder and faster. His sweat drips on to her face, his hips fighting her thrashing lower body, all to fuck her even better—Ryujin knows that he's going to watch her lose control, and somehow that spikes her pleasure even more, that she's going to bare everything to him. I'm sure I'll look so ugly but—

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh my god, oh my— GOD!" Ryujin has never looked hotter as she falls apart right in front of you. Her face goes slack, and she throws her head back as she silently combusts around you, her entire body writhing in pleasure. Her pussy seems to grip and tug at you, as if trying to suck you in deeper, to suck your—fuck it's too dangerous! You manage to spread her thighs further and pull out in time, joining Ryujin in climax, splattering her quivering lithe body with thick splotches of cum.

You roll to the side, laying down next to her and breathing heavily. Ryujin's lips are still lightly parted, soft moans joining your pants as the two of you work through the last bits of pleasure going through your heads. It is almost cute how she blinks rapidly after opening her eyes, not seeing you right on top of her. She turns the wrong way first, and blushes like mad as she turns the right way to face you. She mumbles something, but your head is still buzzing and ringing to hear her.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, umm, tissues please." With what felt like a huge effort, you manage to push yourself off the bed to grab some towels instead. The aftermath is surprisingly awkward, as Ryujin asks to use the shower first, and you avert your eyes as she comes out of the bathroom. She quickly puts on a bathrobe, and by the time you get up, she's already out of the bedroom, saying something about getting some water. You take a long shower, trying to figure out what to say when you're face-to-face with Ryujin again—Be with me? This never happened? I like you? I love you? I want you? Let's just be fuckbuddies? You come out just as uncertain as before, except much cleaner, and you make sure you are properly covered before exiting the bathroom.

"Hey," Ryujin calls out, tapping away at her phone.

"Hey."

"There's water on the table."

"Thanks." You gratefully down the glass of water before looking at the state of your bed—ruffled, wrinkled, fluid-stained.

"You should sleep with me." You catch the briefest of smiles before Ryujin turns away from you, still playing on her phone.

"What?"

"Your bed's dirty, we should just share one."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I asked you didn't I?"

"Right, thanks." Cautiously you slip into bed next to her, and making sure you kept a healthy distance from her, you faced away from Ryujin and tried your best to sleep.

"Good night Ryujin."

"Good night."

Ryujin wakes up the next morning, only to find him spooning her yet again. She gently tries to lift his arm again, and this time he hugs her even tighter. After last night, rather than be surprised and push herself out of his arms, Ryujin has some morning wetness as she feels something she didn't last time. She knows they'll have to talk about what happened after he wakes up, but she'd rather delay that conversation for as long as possible.

You wake up to a warm sensation between your legs, and it isn't unfamiliar. You look under the covers, only to see Ryujin bobbing her head, bringing your morning wood to full hardness.

"Ryujin? We should—"

"Later." She crawls up your body. "You were spooning me again, I couldn't ignore it."

"No way, you spooned me."

"No, we were facing away from each other."

"Fine, we were, mmm! Spooning each other." Ryujin is shockingly wet, and you quickly groan and compromise with her as she rubs herself over your shaft.

"Deal." She seals it with a vacuum seal over your cock, sinking herself to the hilt in one motion. She flutters around you, and Ryujin buries her head in your neck and let's out a low moan.

"Did you just—?"

"No, just umm, feels good." She throws off the covers, and soon with two hands on your chest Ryujin's riding you, her fit body on full display. Her petite breasts jiggle slightly as she bounces and grinds on you slowly and randomly, indulging herself in a morning fuck. This time she doesn't hide anything, and she's moaning unreservedly, letting you know just how good she feels.

"So deep!" "Fuck right there!" "You're going to make me cum!"

You know she's close when her chin begins to dip into her chest, spending all of her strength on riding you faster, hips bucking back and forth quickly, her slick beginning to leak all over you. You also know that based on how she grips you, there's no way you can hold off your own peak, and you'll go right with her if she does.

"Ryujin, you should get off..."

"No, fuck I'm so close."

"Ryujin!"

She grabs your hands and puts them around her waist—her intent clear.

"Cum in me if you love me." It is reckless, dangerous, stupid even, but Ryujin didn't care. She just put him in checkmate—there was no hiding how either of them felt. Sure he could bluff and lift her easily off him, or he could just jam her on top of him, pump himself up into her and fucking breed her little—

"Fuckkkk!" Ryujin wails at her sinful intrusive thoughts, and she cums immediately. A fresh rush of slick covers your cock, and with Ryujin's velvet grip around you, you give in to your urges and pull her down, making sure you're driving deep into her just before you explode. Lights flash behind your eyes, a mess of hair and lips and teeth in your face as Ryujin tries to kiss you, muffling her outright scream while the two of you finish each other off. Your connection is warmer than ever—from Ryujin's juices all over your crotch, from your cum filling her womb to the brim.

Ryujin's entire body is warm as she comes back down from her high, and he's tightly hugging her. She can hear his heartbeat (or is that her own?) against her chest, and when she flexes her muscles, a heartbeat skips—she could still feel him inside her, and she's almost abnormally warm and wet down there. She winces slightly when his lips find her neck—he's leaving a mark, his mark.

"N-No marks," she protests weakly, but she doesn't really mind, her mind filled with endorphins of happiness, if anyone could see Ryujin they would see her absolutely glowing right now.

"Mm," a mumbled apology, and you're looking at Ryujin as you leave only one hickey on her neck. "You're really pretty, you don't need makeup."

"Thanks, that's random."

"Right, I umm, don't know what to say."

"Then don't." Tiredly Ryujin rests on top of you, and truthfully neither of you minded if you went back to sleep right then. But the real world calls, and Yeji is insistent, calling multiple times even after Ryujin fumbles and rejects the earlier calls.

"Yah, the hotel said you haven't checked out yet? They need to clean it!"

"Just a little longer unnie."

"Yeah, just a little more," you add on.

"Oh, so you two used one bed, hmm, that's nice."

"No, we used both beds, and shut up." Ryujin blushes and fires back immediately to cut off Yeji's cackling.

"Not bad, you didn't disappoint me or Ryujin it looks like. But seriously hurry up and check out."

"Okay okay, we will!" Ryujin ends the call before rolling off you. "God she's going to be so annoying, gonna be all like 'I told you so!', ugh."

"Yeah, we should clean up. Could you pass me the tissues?" This time it is Ryujin that helps you clean up, handing you the box of tissues as she cleans herself too. There is no time to shower, so the two of you quickly get dressed before ambashedly leaving. Before you could get to the concierge, Ryujin quickly pulls you into a side hallway.

"Hey, so what happened last night?" What is she talking about, neither of you were drunk! But the careful way she asks that question is less about your memories of last night, and what it means for the two of you for every night going forward.

"I'll take responsibility, if anything happens—" Ryujin quickly shakes her head, fidgeting slightly.

"No not that, I'll be fine, but just, what about us?"

"That's... That's up to you, did anything happen last night?" she's stumped by his question, until she's suddenly in his embrace, and he's whispering in her ear. "You're the idol, did anything happen? Is anything allowed to happen? I'll go with what you want, I don't want you to get hurt."

"Do you... want it to happen?" Is what she asks, but you look down at Ryujin looking up at you, and you understood the question. Do you want us to happen?

"Yes."

"Then it did." You lean down to kiss her, and Ryujin flashes you the brightest smile before gently pushing you away. "Not here, people might see!"

A few days later you wanted to ask Ryujin out, but you realized you didn't know how to. So you text Yeji.

*You two are idiots just ask her like a normal couple would!* is her scathing reply.

*Can I drop by, I want to ask her directly*

*She won't like that, the other members don't know yet*

*OK, can you set me up with her then, I'll meet her at a cafe or something*

*Just come by, I'll give you our address, I can't be bothered to deal with you two little cavity-inducers*

You arrive in front of their dorms, and thankfully Yeji has the sense to make Ryujin answer the door.

"Hello?" Ryujin's eyes almost pop out of her head as she hurriedly closes the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to umm, ask you out, when are you free?"

"You couldn't have texted me?"

"I... guess I could have. But I wanted to see you." A warm fuzzy feeling fills Ryujin's heart, and she makes sure you feel the same way.

"Yeah, I missed you too." You hug her tightly, happy at her admission and confession.

"So you'll go out with me then? Whenever you're free I guess."

"Yeah." Ryujin stays silent for a moment, before her eyes twinkle and her lips curl into a smirk. "I'm free Friday, come pick me up then if you love me."

"Friday it is then."

A/N: Finally back with a story, hope it's alright. I tried playing with switching perspectives a lot more, so hopefully it's not too confusing. Getting back into things, hopefully will be posting more frequently from now on, but might not get back to the one-a-week I used to kinda do. Thanks for reading and happy holidays!

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance gets red around him a lot.

It’s strange.

It’s different from when they first started. (First met? Keith’s not sure. Lance is so insistent that they’ve known each other since they were twelve, but Keith thinks he’d recognise someone like Lance, someone who smiled that brightly and laughed so loud. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t, so he doesn’t think about it. He pretends in his head that they met saving Shiro and that’s that.) When they first started learning each other (that’s a better way to put it), Lance went red all the time, but Keith knew exactly what that was about, could read the hard set of his jaw and the anger making his dark eyes steely. Sometimes he would grin to himself and make the flush on Lance’s cheeks deepen on purpose; say something incendiary and challenging in the most casual one of voice he could manage, just to watch how furious he got, how indignance straightened his spine and squared his shoulders and made his cheeks glow.

He called Lance Rudolph, once, and he went ballistic. It was the first time he ever won a spar of theirs, and half of that was because Keith was laughing too hard to breathe. To this day no one believes Lance when he insists it happened. (Keith does feel bad about that, a little. Everyone seems to think it was just Lance who egged Keith on in the beginning, just Lance who purposely made things difficult, but Keith is grown enough now to admit that he had as much fun pissing Lance off as anyone else would. Well, grown enough to admit it in his head.)

Keith still makes Lance go red all the time, now. The issue is that he doesn’t know how he does it.

They still compete. Obviously. It’s fun and it’s easy and Keith is a fan of things that are fun and easy. That’s why he’s into demolitions. And pod racing.

But the competition no longer has that flare of genuine rage. Lance himself had admitted it, sniffing pompously after a late night spar and informing Keith that he had, apparently, “sucked all the fun out of hating by being endearing or whatever”. He also mentioned something about Keith’s “stupid fucking big round pouty eyes and depressing backstory”, but Keith doesn’t know what to make of that so he shoves it back into the recesses of his mind like many other things, including the first time someone other than his Pa said they loved him, Shiro’s safety lectures, and any and all calculus lessons he has ever sat through.

(It’s a mess back there.)

Keith, too, can admit that the animosity is gone. He no longer wakes up and hears Lance’s voice and considers drop kicking him into a black hole. Sometimes he even hears Lance’s voice and realises he’s smiling on reflex. Now he and Lance hang out. Voluntarily, and a lot. They spar. They swim. They harass Hunk. They harass Pidge. They harass Shiro. They harass all their friends, really. Sometimes Lance uses manoeuvres he’s learnt in sparring to pin Keith to the ground and force weird products onto his face and hair, dodging Keith’s attempts to bite him, preaching about their cleansing qualities or whatever. Sometimes Keith even does it without hissing and generally being a nuisance.

Sometimes Keith follows Lance quietly to the observation, late at night, and sits with him while he cries. He can’t decide how he feels about those nights. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to think about them outside of when they happen.

In all of this, though, Lance’s ruddy face has stayed pretty common. Keith can excuse it when they’re sparring, because it’s admittedly a lot of cardio, but at the same time Keith doesn’t get that red and he’s way paler than Lance is. He can almost kind of excuse it when they swim, for the same reasons.

He doesn’t get it any other times, though. He doesn’t know why Lance goes red at the most innocuous things, like when Keith tells him his hair smells good or his laugh is pretty or he’s actually really good at that nerdy math game Pidge likes, holy crow, I didn’t know you were that kind of smart. Nerd. He doesn’t understand why Lance goes red when he trips and Keith catches him, ‘cause he’s a big klutz, you’d think he’d be used to it by now (it’s not like Keith is going to let him fall. Well, usually not). He doesn’t get why Lance goes red when Keith compliments him in training, because usually when Lance gets complimented he gets a big head about it and preens for an hour.

It’s just strange.

Mostly, though, it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe Lance is just a blushy kind of person. He’s taken to teasingly calling Lance Red, because it’s better than Rudolph, and also because Lance goes scarlet every time he says it, so it’s kind of like he’s a wizard who can make Lance flush on command. Which is cool. Other than that Keith mostly just pretends it doesn’t happen. They hang out too much for Keith to bother. If he questioned it every time, he would go bananas.

“You have icing smeared on your face,” Keith comments on one such hanging out occasion. (They’re plundering the kitchen for the cupcakes Hunk made and specifically forbade them from touching. But Hunk allegedly broke into Lance’s room last week and stole the last of his toner, whatever the hell that is, so fair’s fair.)

Lance pops the last of the cupcake into his mouth then turns to face him. “Where?”

“Here,” Keith says, tapping the left side of his own chin.

Lance, like a dumbass, makes a swiping motion on the left side of his face, instead of mirroring where Keith touched. He misses the icing entirely.

“Left side,” Keith says, exasperatedly.

Lance scowls at him. “That is the left side.”

“No — the other left.”

“There is no other left! There’s only one left!”

Rolling his eyes, Keith reaches over to wipe the icing off for him. There cannot be any evidence on them, after all. When Hunk has a conniption over his missing cupcakes they must play the plausible deniability card so they can snicker about it later.

He swipes his thumb under Lance’s bottom lip, trying to scrape the icing off with his thumbnail. Lance inhales sharply.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, softening his grip. He must have scratched him. The icing didn’t come off, though, so he switches tactics and slides off the counter, shifting so he’s standing in between Lance’s open legs and cradling Lance’s cheek in his palm to tilt his head. He rubs his thumb much softer on the stubborn streak of whipped sugar, and that works a little better. He keeps rubbing until finally Lance’s skin is clear, all the half-dried icing now spread on the pad of Keith’s thumb. He licks it off without thinking.

It’s sweet.

Lance makes a strained whimpering noise. Keith flicks his gaze up to meet his face again and is less surprised than he should be to see a flush glowing across his cheekbones, making his freckles seem much darker than they are. His pupils are dilated so wide they nearly swallow up the brown of his irises, and Keith can’t tell if he’s looking at him or through him.

He sighs heavily. “Dude, do you have a condition?”

It takes Lance a long moment to answer. By the time he finally does, his gaze has moved firmly to his lap, neck bent so that Keith can’t really see his face. His ears are still read.

“I’ve got a fuckin’ heart condition,” he mutters.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. That’s weird. He’s seen Lance’s medical scans before — he’s in the pods a lot. You’d think that kind of thing would be on there.

“It doesn’t show up on your med scans,” Keith points out. “Is it, like, a genetic thing?”

Slowly, Lance picks his head back up, squinting at him for several long moments. Keith begins to squirm.

“You’re actually slow,” Lance says with an almost awed tone of voice. Which is mean. “Like, genuinely, actually slow. I think there are bubbles in your brain.”

“Hey,” Keith protests, pouting. “I help you commit cupcake heists, and this is how you treat me?”

Instead of answering, Lance continues to stare at him. He almost looks bewildered, which does nothing but make Keith more confused.

Eventually he lets out a long, tired sigh. It is not the first time Keith has heard that sigh. That is a sigh he hears when Shiro finds him throwing up his guts after eating a tub of ice cream out of spite. That’s the kind of sigh he hears from Allura when Keith ignores instructions and boulders through the shocks from the invisible maze to get it done faster. That’s the sigh that says I wish I had a trebuchet to strap you to it and release you into the sun. Keith is very familiar with that sigh, although he usually makes it happen on purpose, or at the very least understands how it’s warranted.

Right now he is completely lost.

“I am going to go bother Coran,” Lance says finally, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards the door. “You are not invited. I will talk to you when I want to strangle you less. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Keith calls out, head tilted in confusion. He watches Lance go until he disappears down the hallways.

“He is so confusing,” he announces to no one, then walks out the kitchen himself.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for grabbing my manipulative colleague by the throat?

I have been working backstage on my uni's production of King Lear for a few weeks now, sadly with a colleague, who I'll call Samuel, as prop manager. For some background, Samuel and I don't particularly like each other. I don't particularly know why he dislikes me so much, but I dislike him for trying to manipulate everyone around him- he has been attempting to gaslight me a lot, and recently got me sanctioned by framing me for messing with a bunch of our props.

Onto the actual event, the day after I was sanctioned for him messing with props, he was talking shit about me to our other backstage worker and generally trying to provoke me. This went on for a few minutes until he actively started trying to anger me. This worked very well, as I proceeded to grab his throat for a few seconds. Clearly quite hard, as it put a cut on his neck. We haven't really talked since this happened, but I've been debating over whether I was wrong since. Am I the asshole here?

What are these acronyms?

[aohisworld]

BROKEN CD

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ when the world picks on Aohi, she crumbles gently, and Ri-ki’s there to put her back together, piece by piece.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ nishimura ri-ki x addedmember!oc. mentions of poly!ot7 x addedmember!oc, contains. cringe writing, angst (as always).

| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: a little self-indulgent because I feel like poopoo honestly 😞 I apologize if this mini- drabble? fic? Is short, I really barely have any time to write to my pieces, and I can only offer you guys these small little fics 😭

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun.

✧. ┊    No one’s a stranger to the familiar feeling of coming back down from a successful peak, the sudden feeling of clouded thoughts or the slow burn-out of your sociality or productivity being a familiar dull sting to your body and mind.

And sometimes you can’t understand just why you have to burn out, and with that comes along frustrations, anger, the tantrums inside your mind when nothing goes your way when you’ve already had a bad day.

Aohi’s world dulls to grey for a little while, the exhausting schedule and the upcoming recording for memorabilia took a lot out of her.

All she wanted was to sleep, maybe for a week straight, if she could, she’d hibernate like a bear. Aohi knows she can’t though, engenes would miss her too much.

Despite her frustrations with the slightly wrong tones or the wrong words being sung out, she trudges on, continuing to work, to rewrite, to practice.

She’s repaid by the loss of her voice, and recording’s been pulled back a week later due to the sudden situation. Aohi sits in her seat speechless when her manager explains it on the way to the studio.

“But then, why am I going if I’m being put on vocal rest?” Aohi’s voice croaks out. In a comical way, she sounded like a Justin Bieber when he was in his teens, cracking and going airy from time to time.

“I didn’t want you to come in either, but the studio was insistent on it,” Aohi groans, despite how hurtful it was on her throat. “Trust me, I tried to fight for a day off, all I could do was move your session to a later time tomorrow.”

“I can’t even do anything at the studio, the whole point of a vocal rest is so I could rest!”

“First off, stop yelling, don’t use your voice-“ Her manager looked up at the rear view mirror, shooting her a glance that told Aohi to fix her attitude.

"Second, just get through this recording, it'll be over before you know it.."

Aohi just rolled her eyes, feeling already irked that she had to come in today. Aohi stared out the window as she ended up tuning out her manager’s voice and locking herself inside her mind.

There wasn’t much to do for her especially when she had a sore throat, even if she could, Aohi doubts her current health would even be able to keep up with anything.

“Aohi, let’s go.” Her manager could be heard unbuckling her seatbelt, Aohi following. Aohi grabbed her phone and opened her car door, squinting at the bright sun.

Her instant response to the sudden rays was to put up her hoodie, entering the studio.

“Batsy!” Sunoo chirps, reaching for the girl before any of the other guys could call for her, and with her call, Aohi gravitates towards Sunoo, his arms taking her in like a cuddly bear.

“I missed you..” Aohi mumbled into his clothes, and Sunoo just hums and kisses her forehead, “gonna keep with the PDA or are we actually recording?” Xiulin amusingly spoke from behind the two.

And it would’ve been funny, if Aohi hadn’t hissed back at her. “Unnie, respectfully shut up.” Aohi replied with a hoarse voice, and Sunoo was taken aback by her sudden reply. Xiulin must’ve been as well, looking at Aohi with widened eyes.

Aohi’s furrowed brows seemed to soften after realizing the stunned faces across the room, and she sighs, pulling away from Sunoo.

“Sorry, unnie… i just… don’t feel well.” Aohi walks into the studio booth trying to rubbing her temple with a frown. Xiulin was still waiting out her aftershock as she just watched her dongsaeng walk away.

“What’s her problem?” Ri-ki pointed his thumb at Aohi inside the booth, looking towards the boys who looked equally confused. “I know manager-nim said she wasn’t feeling well… but she’s never snapped at me like that before.” Xiulin frowns at the booth door, rubbing at her neck in discomfort.

“It’s okay noona, I’m sure Aohi just didn’t feel up to the teasing, you know how she is..” Jungwon tries to ease Xiulin’s feelings, patting the older girl’s back to comfort her.

“We’ll talk to her, don’t worry.” Sunoo added, giving Xiulin a gentle and reassuring smile as the group trailed into the booth.

Aohi sat in one of the couches, trying keep to herself, quietly playing on her phone. The boys looked to each other, trying to figure out how to approach the girl without already irking her more than she already was.

“Heeseung-ssi, Xiulin-ssi, we can record your lines now.” One of the producers called the eldest of the hyung and maknae line to come in, and Xiulin glanced at Aohi, who glances at her and Heeseung.

Aohi quickly darts her gaze back onto her phone as she tries to focus on her games, trying to get the day to go by faster.

Xiulin sighs, looking towards Heeseung who was already waiting by the booth, he mouths to her as if to tell her, that the boys will handle it while they’re gone, and not to worry too much.

Jay decides to make a move towards Aohi, sitting beside her with caution. Aohi squirms at the sudden dip in the couch, but refuses to look up anyway.

“Batsy.. look at me, baby..” Jay encouraged, his hands gently reaching for her tense ones. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?.. we just want to help, Aohi, baby.” Aohi feels rather suffocated in Jay’s hold, and she knows he doesn’t mean to cage her in, but she feels like she can’t breathe.

Aohi shakes her head, trying to pull away from his hold, and Jay’s eyebrow twitches, his first indication that something was worse than just annoyance or tiredness. She mumbled something that Jay couldn’t decipher, he leans even closer.

Jay knew that even if Aohi was annoyed, she’d never turn down any of his hugs, even going as far to tell him that he’s the best at cuddling besides Ri-ki.

“Look at me, Batsy.” Jay reaches for her face, his gentle fingers barely touching her cheeks when Aohi slaps them away. “I told you to leave me alone!” Aohi’s voice croaks loudly, and Jake stands up from his spot in the room.

Her hand reaches to push Jay away, who seemed hurt at the way Aohi raises her voice at him. Despite being scolded by Aohi before, it never sounded worse like it did at this moment.

Aohi’s hand is stopped by Jake’s hand around her wrist, and her attention’s turned from Jay to Jake, trying to pull her wrist away from him.

“Let go!”

“Aohi, that’s enough! We’re just trying to help you!” Jake holds her tighter, and Aohi squeezes her eyes tight, letting out a sob. “I don’t want your help!” Aohi stands up from her spot, shoving Jake away.

Jake toppled over a few instruments, hissing at the impact. “Hyung!” Jungwon and Sunghoon quickly stood up, rushing to Jake’s side. Aohi’s breath hitches, and she sniffles, glancing around, Sunoo and Ri-ki looking at her with disbelief.

Aohi could feel her heart beating with intensity as she only looks for her only escape, running out of the room to the front door.

She has no idea where to run, but her legs certainly aren’t stopping, Aohi doesn’t register which way she goes, turning all sorts of corners, and the sun blinding her.

Soon enough, her body stops running, and Aohi has no clue where she is, she sits on a random bench, the area seemed deserted, some patches of weed growing through the brick path she ran down on.

Aohi brings her legs up on the bench, and she remembers that she’s left her phone at the studio with everyone else, and the air doesn’t do much to calm her.

She digs her face into her knees, and she could feel the familiar sting of tears in her eyes and she squeals into her knees, as if angry that she’s crying.

Aohi has no idea why she’s been so upset lately, maybe she needed to be alone for a while, or maybe Aohi felt like the world hasn’t been so nice to her lately. She’s tired, so tired.

Aohi just wanted to rest for a little while, and she can’t do that when her company wants her to go to these recordings despite putting her on vocal rest.

Aohi can’t afford to go home right now either, for one, she has no clue where she is and Aohi knows that she needs a ride to even get back to the apartments.

She only whimpers, and lets herself cry into her arms, pitiful sobs leaving like a lullaby from her lips. Aohi’s back shakes as her sobs continue, and she realizes that she can’t even stop herself or quiet herself.

And in an ironic way, the world sends a somewhat comforting breeze to her side, despite being certainly mean to her the couple of days, Aohi takes the breeze with gusto, sniffling as she’s blanketed with the wind.

Aohi cries her pretty little heart out in a deserted part of this random park, and she cries and cries until her eyes tire out, Aohi can feel the creeping tiredness loom over her as her eyes don’t fight the urge to close, to get sleep.

She just lets it happen as her eyes blanket her vision with darkness, and she sniffles once more, the need to sleep heavy and she doesn’t fight.

The sun’s starting to come down, and Aohi can barely register the muffled call of her name. Aohi could feel the approaching headache from dehydration, obviously from crying her eyes out the previous hours, but she looks up anyway.

“Aohi.. wake up, damn it..” Ri-ki curses, and he sits beside her balled figure on the bench, he runs his hands through his hair, sighing out of worry and concern.

“nini…” Aohi mumbled out, and her voice is still coarse, maybe even worse than it was the last time Ri-ki heard it. Ri-ki stops himself from softening at the nickname she calls him, one that she got from other fan accounts on Twitter, thinking it was adorable.

“Do you know how fucking worried we were?…” Ri-ki breathlessly spoke, and he gently placed a hand on her cheek, his eyebrows furrowed. Aohi whimpered, digging her cheek into his palm anyway.

“I’m sorry, nini…” Ri-ki curses under his breath, and he takes off his jacket, placing it over Aohi’s body, he felt the alarming heat of her body on his palm, he stands up from the bench and takes his arms under Aohi’s knees and supporting her back.

He lifts her up with a huff, carrying Aohi bridal style. “Don’t think just because you’re sick means you’re off the hook for running like that.” Ri-ki walks down the familiar path, the sun was going down and soon enough, he won’t be able to see the path out of the deserted park.

“You worried the fuck out of everyone… Jay and Jake were out in the cold for hours, you left your phone so we couldn’t even…” Ri-ki blinked his tears away, the worry and the thought that something could’ve happened to Aohi overwhelming him.

“We couldn’t track you down, and who knows where the hell you could’ve gone?…” Aohi, despite being too tired out of her mind and sleepy, felt guilty anyways, she felt stupid for running then, and she still felt stupid now.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t find you… hell, what would we tell the engenes? you hate disappointing them..” Ri-ki grits his teeth, it takes a little while for them to regroup with the others, and Ri-ki had gone silent from walking for a bit and he finally walks out to a familiar path, seeing the boys and Xiulin waiting anxiously by the van.

“You found her!" Heeseung sighed in relief, jogging up to the two, Aohi seemed to knock out on the walk, and Heeseung reaches to check on her.

"She's burning.." Heeseung curses, and he walks to the van and opens the door, "Let's get her home before she gets worse." Sunoo agrees, nodding as he climbs into the vehicle, helping Ri-ki climb in with Aohi in his hold.

"Careful.. she's going to bump her head.." Sunoo whispers, placing his hands on her head, looking at Aohi with worry in his eyes.

The boys and Xiulin are silently driven home by their staff, and they all apologize to the staff member for keeping them waiting as Ri-ki, bowed, before walking up to the apartment.

"Ri-ki-yah.. I can carry her.." Sunghoon offered from beside him, and he shakes his head, just continuing to walk up to their dormitory, which Jungwon opens for the youngest.

"Wait! You should bring her to our dorm, I can't take care of her from your dorms.." Xiulin voiced, and the boys turn to her, "Noona, don't worry about it, I'm sure you're tired, me and the hyungs will take care of her." Ri-ki shoots their eldest girl a reassuring look, and Xiulin can't help but sigh.

"But-" Jay shakes his head, asking Xiulin not to fight them on it, "You can trust us, Xiu, don't worry." Xiulin softly frowns, but she couldn't go up against seven boys, even if she wanted to.

"Okay, just.. make sure she gets some rest..." Xiulin reaches over and places a small kiss on Aohi's burning forehead, a quiet goodbye as she recovers in the boys' dorms.

The boys and Xiulin part from the stairs, and Aohi's brought into the boys' dorms, they all have separate rooms now, the countless complaints from singer to manager had worked, and given them some sort of privacy.

Ri-ki makes a quick move to place her onto his bed, tucking her with record-breaking speed, trying to keep her warm, feeling Aohi shiver all throughout the car ride.

Despite his worry, he still feels sour about earlier, knowing Aohi wasn't feeling well, and her mood was not best, did not excuse the fact that she ran off, and for hours they couldn't find her.

"I'll go grab a rag for her fever.." Sunoo whispers from beside Ri-ki, patting the youngest's back in comfort before leaving the room. The rest of the boys seemed to follow after Sunoo, quiet excuses pouring from all of their lips.

"We'll get dinner started, make her some food.." Jay and Jungwon walked out together, and Sunghoon runs his hand through his face, "We'll give you some space.." Heeseung pulls Sunghoon with him, who seems hesitant to leave Aohi's side.

"How could you be so reckless, batsy?" Ri-ki whispered, his tone scolding. For once, he was babying Aohi without any complaint. Well, not that she could anyway. "I thought something had happened to you.. and I wouldn't of been there..."

Ri-ki sat by her side for a while, he repositioned to the ground, gently rubbing his thumb against Aohi's palm. A calming gesture for both of them. He quietly watches Aohi's sleeping figure, and despite the underlying cringe from him, feeling creepy for watching her, he couldn't help but worry, truly.

"...I would've lost it.. batsy, I need you," Ri-ki whispers, and it seems like every time they were by themselves, he starts to speak in Japanese, like he's at his most vulnerable with her. "I need you like water, my love.." He continues his sentence, hoping she'll awake for a little bit.

Like a miracle, Aohi twitches from her sleep, and she lets out a quiet groan, her eyes fluttering from her nap, and she's faced with the familiar ceiling of Ri-ki's room. She calls for him with a broken voice.

"Nini..." And Ri-ki makes a move, sitting up on his knees to coo at her silently, "I'm here, lovely.." He feels Aohi's hand squeeze his, and he feels himself relax. Ri-ki is relieved, comforted by Aohi's presence.

"Why.. would you go look for me..?" Aohi croaks from her spot, looking at Ri-ki with a hurt expression, and he's almost confused on why she would ask such a question. "Why wouldn't we?.." Ri-ki tilts his head, his thumb makes comforting swipes at the back of Aohi's hand.

"You could've gotten sick.. stupid.." Aohi tries to flick up at Ri-ki's forehead, and he shakes his head, making her drop her hand. "I don't care about getting sick, I care about finding you." He replies, and Aohi sighs, turning her head from Ri-ki to the wall.

"I hate when you say stuff like that.." Aohi whispers, and Ri-ki is confused, sure, his words would fluster the girl, but her? Hating such words from him when she was as affectionate as him?

"Why? You and I both know it's true," Ri-ki responds, and Aohi makes a move to almost throw a slight action of defiance. "And that's what I hate about it, I hate that you're willing to break your back as long as I'm with you.."

"And it's the same for the other boys, and I love that you love me so much," Ri-ki listens, despite his dislike for where the conversation was heading, "and I love you all the same, if not more, but I hate that you'd disregard your own well-being for me.. I wish I wasn't that important to you.. any of you."

"How could you say that?" Ri-ki asks, standing up from his spot and sitting on the bed, and Aohi sits up from her spot, "Ri-ki, how could I not? Hell, you gave me your jacket even when you knew it was cold.."

"You're always bending over backwards for me, and I wish you'd be a little more concerned with yourself." Aohi looks towards him and Ri-ki furrows his eyebrows. "You're the same way."

Aohi stays silent, "It's the way I am.." Aohi fiddles with her fingers, looking down at her lap. "And so what? You think we should just take and take, and you get nothing in return for yourself?" Ri-ki assumes, and Aohi looks to argue, to deny, but words don't come out of her mouth.

Ri-ki waits for a reply from Aohi and when she doesn't seem to speak, he continues. "What's the point of us dating you if we'll just be selfish while you break like this?" Aohi still doesn't reply, and she knows there's nothing she could say to fix her words, and what she meant.

"Are we even your boyfriends that way?" Aohi finally moves from her spot, "Of course you are! I just don't want you to be so consumed with being with me that you just.." Aohi brings her hands to her face, "It feels like you have to take care of me all of the time, and I'm just.."

"I don't want any of you to help me because it's not your job, I should be able to do this myself!" Aohi sobbed, and Ri-ki feels angrier than before.

“if you didn’t want any of us to help you when you’re crumbling like this then why are you still dating us?!” Ri-ki yells, and it’s the first time in a while that Aohi had heard him so loud.

Aohi blinks at him and for once she’s surprised of the way Ri-ki stared at her with angry tears. Ri-ki was angry at her.

“Are you angry at me?…” She whispers, and Aohi doesn’t miss the way her voice quivers as she asks this to Ri-ki who turns away from her.

“You don’t know how much it hurts when we see you like this… when I see you like this.” Ri-ki sobbed, his fists grab at his hair, and Aohi makes a move to stop him, knowing it’ll hurt.

“I feel like the worst fucking boyfriend when I see you fall apart like dust and I can’t help you.”

Aohi doesn’t say a word more, unable to reply. Her tears cascaded down her cheeks and she pulls Ri-ki into her arms. “I’m sorry.” She repeats like a mantra.

And it seems like Ri-ki breaks alongside Aohi, and she starts to think that maybe the world was a little too cruel on both of them, or maybe she was being too cruel on him, on all of them.

how could she fix this now?

"I'm sorry nini... I didn't mean to make you feel like that.. I just... feel awful and I've been too cruel.." Aohi holds Ri-ki tightly, and she could feel her hoodie starts to dampen with the boy's tears.

"I'm so sorry... I feel like the worst girlfriend to you... you don't even know nini.." Aohi hugs Ri-ki like she could never let go, and she knows she would never.

"Then help me know, I want to, let me understand, let me help.." Ri-ki begged from her, and Aohi feels worse than she already did.

Aohi places a gentle kiss on his forehead, continuing her apologies. Ri-ki seems to cry for forever he felt like, he just couldn't stop, and his fingers had gone red from how tightly he held Aohi in his arms.

"You don't deserve such a cruel girl like me.." She whispers, lifting Ri-ki's face, wiping at the streaks on his cheeks, and with a quiet voice, Ri-ki speaks, "I want you anyway, I'll always want to be with you, even if you don't."

"How did I score someone like you, hm, nini?" Aohi laughed through her own tears. "I don't know, but you're never getting rid of me." Ri-ki replies, before taking Aohi's cheeks in his hands and laying a gentle kiss on her lips.

The two's lips intertwined like perfect puzzle pieces, Aohi's hand reaching to cup Ri-ki's in a warmth he'll never deny. Aohi thinks that she could never get used to how warm Ri-ki's lips were, always comforting her in ways she could never do herself.

The two pull away, and Aohi almost chases after Ri-ki, already missing him so close to her.

"...I love you, so much." Aohi spoke after a while, using her hoodie sleeve to wipe at her nose, and Ri-ki laughs, grabbing a tissue from his bedside, "Don't wipe it on your hoodie, batsy.."

"I really do love you though, you know that right?" Ri-ki smiles, and nods, wiping at Aohi's tears. "aigoo... you big baby.." Ri-ki kisses at her nose, and Aohi squeals at the ticklish feeling.

"You cried too! I'm not the only big baby!" Aohi retorts, gently slapping Ri-ki's shoulder, the two continued to giggle for a little before they quiet down, the only evidence of their silly behaviour being their smiles.

"Don't ever be scared to crumble, we'll be here to pick you back up... just like you are for us.." Ri-ki hugs her tightly one more time, and Aohi's never felt as loved as she was with the boys, and it makes her realize how much she could never actually live without these boys.

"So.. how does soup sound?"

"Sounds lovely, nini."

"Good, you're going to have to apologize to Jay-hyung and Jake-hyung, they've been sulking since this afternoon." - "Oh... about that.."

[aestheticaltcow]

Three-Three-Three

A platonic fluff piece about the fridge scene at the end of Season 2.

This is also a solid way to help ground yourself when having a panic attack.

“What do you mean he’s locked in the fridge?” you laughed when Richie pulled you aside in the dining area. It was The Bear's friends and family's soft opening, and you were working the bar as a favor for your best friend, Carmy. “I mean, he’s locked in the fridge. Dumbass didn’t call the fridge guy to come fix the handle on the walk-in, and it broke off- so he’s locked in the fridge.” Richie explained further, growing more frustrated as he did.

“I shouldn’t find this amusing because he’s probably freaking out-” You cut yourself off when you noticed Claire, Carmy’s not-girlfriend girlfriend, come out of the kitchen crying; you groaned. Carmy had done something stupid. You looked at Richie. Steam would have come out of his ears if this had been a cartoon. He stormed back to the kitchen, somehow managing not to draw attention to himself. 

You nodded in the direction of the other bartender. He returned the sentiment, and you walked back to the kitchen to hear Richie and Carmy screaming at each other from opposite sides of the fridge. “I fucking love you!” Richie yelled, pointing at the fridge as his face twisted with anger and hurt. You had no idea what was going on as you approached the fridge, “Richie, tap out.” you solemnly said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Go smoke or something. I got this.” you sympathetically smiled when you saw tears forming in his eyes. 

“You’re a fucking child, Carmen! Fuck you!” Richie yelled his final jab before walking toward the back of the kitchen to the alley before Carmy could yell anything back at him.

“Carmy?” you asked softly, trying to de-escalate the situation, “Y/N- fuck off! I need- I need-” you could hear the panic in his voice. “Carmy, can you please tell me three things you can see?” you heard Carmy groan. “Carmy? Three things you can see,” you repeated, putting a palm to the fridge door. 

“Just get me the fuck out of here!” he yelled, “Carmy. Three things you can see.” you held your breath when you felt a thud on the door, assuming Carmy had slammed a fist on the door or kicked it?

“Fine... carrots. Stock. And fennel,” Carmy said as he slid down the fridge door onto the smooth concrete floor. “Okay. Three things hear,” you responded.

He closed his eyes and focused on your words. “I ugh—the fridge compressor… pots and pans hitting the stove… your voice,” he answered, pushing a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. The styling product he’d put in was long gone.

 “Now, tell me three things you can feel.” you said, putting your forehead on the fridge, “Uh, the floor… the door, and uh… my hair?” he answered. Carmy leaned back against the door and stared at the light above him. 

“Scale of one to ten. How are you feeling?” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Seven?” Carmy chuckled. 

“Is the fire department here yet?” he questioned only to hear you laugh again, “Carm, what do you think?”

“This would fuckin’ happen to me.” he scoffed. You grinned, “What happened with Claire? She ran out crying.” you heard Carmy sigh, “I thought I was talking to Tina… I was talkin’ about how I don’t deserve enjoyment.” you nodded. 

“I think she took your panic attack personally. Not very pro mental health of her.” you joked, hoping you hadn’t, pun unintended, poked the bear too much by asking. Carmy chuckled, “It’s okay… she told me she loved me, and I didn’t say it back. I think I loved her, but I’m not in love with her… ya know?” 

The two of you sat there for a while. You watched the kitchen bustle and hoped the other bartender wasn’t too slammed while you cared for Carmy through a couple of feet of metal. When the fire department came, they’d managed to open the door without breaking out the axe. Carmy was free, and Syd and Marcus sarcastically clapped and hooted, much to Carmy’s annoyance. 

Marcus laughed and exclaimed, “He returns!” before he threw an arm around Carmy’s shoulders. “Okay, back to work, chefs.” Carmy rolled his eyes before returning to his station. You laughed, “Well, at least you won’t forget to call the fridge guy again.” Carmy shot you a glare as you put your hands up defensively. “I’m not wrong, Berzatto.”

[zoohouseart]

An idea of how Ed Edd n Eddy's cast may appear as adults. I wrote a bio for each one too.

Ed: Married May Kanker right out of high school, had 26 kids all named after monster movies (all of which he's VERY protective of). Spends a simple life working on tree-lifting and mine digging, bathes in gravy every night. Misses Edd and Eddy a whole, whole lot. Unfortunately doesn't see them often, since they moved further into the city while he stayed in the cul-de-sac.

Edd (Double D): Cleaned his act, got the girl, gained a master's in science and engineering, became a teacher, and yet STILL isn't happy or widely respected. Has yet to fully address his long standing anxiety of taking off his hat. Cannot let himself catch a break as he stresses daily about getting the bills paid. Wishes there was more to life than this ever-revolving door of monotony.

Eddy: Flunked out of college. Works as an errand boy for the mayor of Peach Creek and "oversees productivity". Secretly continues to feed his compulsions to scam and gamble at any chance he can get. Spends his every evening dreaming of the day where HE's the mayor, and scheming up ideas he'll never enact (unless..). Often complains that jawbreakers aren't as big as they used to be.

Nazz: Lives a bohemian life, praying someday her time to shine will glisten once more as an "influencer" but works retail in the meantime. Mooches off her fiancée Edd and tries to make up for it in emotional (and erm, well, physical) support. Is struggling with the idea that she peaked in high school, but will never admit it. Mockingly called "Double Z" by Eddy, though she doesn't mind.

Kevin: Is the mayor of Peach Creek. Won this view through pure charisma and good word as the football king of Peach Creek High and general "best at everything", but is often these days fumbling the ball on keeping the streets safe and clean. Is now friends with Eddy, or at least he likes to think so. Is sad he didn't make it into pro league, and will sulk about it when noone's looking.

Sarah: Took up the job of being a shrink (specifically in anger management), and a general town do-gooder. She's often, even if obnoxiously, asking to help others. Has really turned her life around from her loudmouthed, vicious childhood and make up for her past cruelties.. but has mostly done so just to repress her unbridled rage bubbling inside. Whatever you do, don't bring up Jimmy in front of her.

Jimmy: Sarah and Jimmy were conjoined to the hip practically forever, until the day his braces came off. Once he did, he got the call from Hollywood for his incredible acting chops, and ditched his BFF without a second thought. People often tour Peach Creek to see his hometown, much to the chagrin of everyone there. Is a real piece of work these days and could use a nice ass whooping.

Rolf: Grew to be a mighty farmer, creating a titanic cattle industry. Used his profits to buy a massive chunk of Peach Creek and turn it into "New Yergosluvia", so his old country family could live nearby. There he resides as it's king, and frequently feuds with old friend Kevin. Wears Victor's pelt in honor of his life-long servitude to a son of a shepherd (Victor passed peacefully in his sleep).

Johnny 2x4: MIA. As the Eds became more accepted, Johnny became the new misfit. One day, tragedy suddenly struck Plank in senior year of high school, and Johnny was never seen again. There's urban legends of crudely drawn faces appearing on the trees around the old cul-de-sac they grew up in. Ed swears he's seen one tree move. But that's crazy Ed for you. …Right?

May Kanker: Spends her days mostly exhausted from having to take care of 26 children, and hardly ever leaves the house. When she's not trying to drown out the kids with a cranked up TV, she's spending every other hour gossiping about occurrences across the city with her sisters.. though there's not a lot of time between that and cleaning up shit smeared on the walls.

Marie Kanker: Was expelled from Peach Creek High School for stalking Edd and threatening harm on Nazz. She now spends her days as a forum rat on doxxing related message boards, betwixt a day job of driving a garbage truck, where she mostly rides around town spying on people and scribbling down their whereabouts. She too spends all remaining hours gossiping with her sisters.

Lee Kanker: Was mid-planning on going to college and had her life all figured out to be a part of law enforcement until she was unexpectedly locked up for "illegal wood burning". She swears she was framed but has no idea who could've done it. She's usually calling her sisters, but occasionally talks with Eddy. She's not interested in him anymore; they just like to shoot the shit sometimes.

[seat-safety-switch]

Becoming rich hasn't changed me. I'm still all about teaching the average person how to fix their own stuff. For instance, I just launched this new YouTube channel called "Accountability." You might think that's a weird name, but let me explain.

Each and every one of the things that has broken on you throughout the course of your life has been touched by an engineering team of some kind. Most of the time, that failure was planned. Even if not malicious, someone's manager told them to cut out all the doomsaying and save a few bucks here and there by making the part flimsier, or stop updating the software, or not give it a second turn in the etchant mixture because we gotta ship this thing now buddy, now, so I can get my bonus.

You can get mad about it all you want, but that anger could be unjustified, something the Buddha says is a big ol' bummer on your road to enlightenment. The question is, how do you know if the failure was planned or if they genuinely didn't know?

That's where my YouTube channel comes in. Remember, it's named "Accountability," and that's just what we do. I spend the billions of dollars that my cocaine kingpin uncle, Sniff Safety-Switch, gave to me on travelling the world, and investigating the individual people behind the things you use (and break) every day.

Then, once I've got them on camera, I tie them to a chair and pull their teeth out, one by one, until they tell me the truth about their quality-assurance plans. Last week, we had the guy who made the little rubber stopper on the end of my cheese grater fall off. He didn't want to spend an extra five cents per unit on a better glue, so he told production to cut it, knowing full well that it would crack after a few years and cause me to slip and scrape my knuckles while preparing a macaroni and cheese feast. Let me tell you this: he is very sorry now, and he would like to offer you a full refund.

Sure, this money might not last long (advertising revenues are in the shitter,) but I don't do it for the money. I do it for humanity. Please like and subscribe.

[19burstraat]

uhhh something about a kaz having such a thing with the sea and water, and being so obsessed with reaper's barge and drowning and the harbour waters... but he only washes in front of inej, and when he's literally drowning at the ice court he tries to think of jordie and revenge, but instead he thinks of how he hasn't got closure with her. and he ends up buying her a ship and a berth at fifth harbour (which is literally where he crawled out the sea after reaper's barge)– he finally manages to turn all of that anger and grief and obsession into a productive act of love, rather than the destructive ones he's been pursuing all this time. and from that, inej gets to hunt and destroy the slavers and their ships that took her, to call the storm that she wanted. the sea ends up morphing from a threat and a restriction, to something more like freedom; for them individually, and for them as a couple. Inej's last POV line is her heart was a river that carried her to the sea. there's hope; they'll get to the same place someday, even if it's not today. I'm going to go and kick a wheelie bin over

[yandere-romanticaa]

"I know you can't keep your eyes off me but, darling, for the sake of my work I must ask you to stop."

His tone was ever so arrogant but laced with the slightest hint of amusement which never failed to make your blood boil. Even with his back turned towards you his hideous smirk still burned, even if you couldn't really see it but you knew Alhaitham better than anyone else did.

Your misery was a favorite past time of his.

Here you sat on the floor, chained and angry like a wild animal as your captor made himself comfortable on his large and cozy chair, millions upon millions documents places on the pristine wooden desk but his attention kept wavering from time to time and the sound of your voice was the reason why. He was obviously trying to cover up the fact that he actually wanted to get up from the stupid chair and come towards you and push your buttons more but work called and no one else could really handle the papers other than the Scribe himself.

Naturally, you made it your mission to make it as hard as possible for him, regardless of how petty your tactics were.

It started out with random little sounds and noises here and there, then you switched to full on talking but never shouting - that could lead to a serious penalty that you honestly didn't have the guts to take. You spewed random nonsense, just things that randomly came to mind such as how clean the floor is, how oddly pretty the plants in the corner were and just how dreadfully tacky Alhaitham's boots were.

That one amused him more than your other comments, much to your chagrin.

Instead of annoyance or preferably anger, Alhaitham hardly said a word during the entire ordeal but it actually made him slightly more productive. The sound of his quill sped up ever so slightly as he turned to you every few seconds, finally managing to shut you up after a few hours had passed.

Letting out a sigh you lowered your head and closed your eyes, letting out any and all thoughts go and the only thing you could feel was the rusty sensation of the metal chains that kept you at bay. A few dark bruises had formed ages ago and showed no sings of leaving, causing you to slightly wince from the few stings of numbing pain.

Your mind didn't even register the sound of a chair being scrapped across the floor and hectic footsteps that were charging straight towards you, not until you felt a cold hand on your cheek and the scent of cedarwood invading your senses. There knelt Alhaitham, a strange glint in his eye as he inched himself closer and closer, his presence suffocating as always.

"You have my attention now, darling."

You scoffed, a hint of fear creeping up your spine.

You hated it when he called you darling. It made you angrier than usual these days, especially as he was really your only company and window to the outside world...

"Why not share what you're thinking right now with me? It's clearly bothering you and telling me might make you feel better."

His thumb circled your cheek slowly as he maintained eye contact with you, his gaze heavier than iron. A part of you hoped that this was Alhaitham comforting you, that he was sorry for what he had done but... that just wasn't him. That version of him was an illusion. In reality he was probably doing this in order to soothe you and keep you behaved... which might as well be him comforting you in some sense of the word, with his own spin on it of course.

With your vision becoming blurry you could do nothing but lean into his touch and he happily accepted, both his hands holding you steady as he pressed you against the wall, his hot breath tickling your neck as he kept you close to his chest, in a similar manner of a needy child holding a prized teddy bear.

Sometimes, you wished you could break free. But on occasion, you couldn't help but to indulge in Alhaitham's company which lead you to your current predicament.

If you ever had the chance, you were going to throw yourself off the Akademiya roof, if not to escape his clutches than to just spite him.

🕊️ TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @morigumy, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopsia-sonder, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @yumekos-gamble

[carionto]

See, we got this... inclination

The Galactic Coalition is no stranger to war. Every sapient race has a history filled with external conflict, and most with some internal strife as well. Even now, the Coalition is in a stalemate with the United Federation on the North-Western arm of the Galaxy, a recently cooled hot war over what the Federation call foreign meddling in internal affairs, while the Coalition claim is an abusive contractual effective enslavement of a pre-stellar civilization, which goes against the Coalition's Ethics Directorate For All Sapient Encounters.

The Humans, who managed to learn of this on their own, sparking a hushed debate about their espionage capabilities, wanted to send their own delegation to the established Neutral Zone to speak with the Federation. As a party to the Coalition governing body, they have free reign to make contact with anyone on their own terms, with the understanding such individual activity will not represent the Coalition itself.

It did not take long for the Humans to reach back to us with an inquiry:

"So like, this might just be us, but these fellas are giving us some nasty fascist vibes, ya feel me? Maybe we're wrong (though we do got a lot of experience with that), but have a look at this data we've gathered so far."

What we saw were shockingly detailed and up-close images of clearly Federation design medical and emergency disaster relief encampments. A baffling number in fact, but technically nothing that would indicate wrongful action or intent. But there were a lot of them all across the planet.

"Yeah, we only got data from right now, so do you got info on this planet and it's folk from earlier? My gut, and all these shuttles full of some kinda cargo we can't scan hyperin' away, is telling me that it's not gonna match well."

The Human, or his... gut?... (we'll have to ask them to elaborate, we thought they only had one mind?) is correct, startlingly so. We informed the Human the atmosphere was far thinner than it was merely 40 years ago, containing a third less Nitrogen and almost no trace gasses at all, save for CO2, which was at nominal levels, but the planet used to have an abundance of Helium, now almost entirely gone. If further investigation corroborates this, and perhaps other inconsistencies, this will be cause for a full open investigation and possible sanctions!

"So... can we fight them?"

The Human's question startled us from our anger, now replaced with confusion and worry. Humanity boasted the most powerful fleet in Coalition space, there was no question about it, but they are still only a singular planet with some specialist stations dotted around local space, while the Federation was composed of dozens of races across thousands of planets in a very efficient hierarchical structure, plus the true strength of their military was unknown.

This is a delicate matter and we need them to not act rashly. We have learned, however, that outright denying Humans anything leads them to desire it more, so we must adopt a new approach to each situation we wish the Humans to... not take the initiative on.

Offering the delegation leader command of our own covert investigation units, and requesting he withdraw his ships to act as emergency response and intervention forces in the area seemed to please him. He had an important task to do, and his crew busied themselves preparing for a variety of possibilities, thus making the Humans feel both needed and engaged in productive activity, preventing them from escalating the situation. For now.

We really hope this "gut" will not cause rash action.

[hwaightme]

The meaning of 'Jeong'

☔ pairing: yunho x f!reader ☔ genre: comfort, fluff, angst ☔ summary: jeong (정/情) - the intimate and warm feeling, the closeness and affection arising from one's relationship with another person. ☔ wordcount: 5.8k ☔ warnings/tags: stress, a lot of work stress, burnout, disregard for own health, language, a little arguing, yunho driving, yunho singing, business, office, implied office disrespect, no need for words when yunho knows, knight in a shining automobile, snow and rain, on the verge of a breakdown, starry night, unedited, lmk if anything else~ ☔ taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven ☔ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ☔ a/n: hello there, sometimes we are in need of some yunfort~ warmest hugs, and much love! All reblogs, comments, thoughts, notes appreciated~ Thank you so much Sky for ideating with me, inspiring me, and fueling first my San, and then my Yunho brainrots <3 would not have happened without you~

It seemed that no matter what you did, everything served to further agitate you - another penny in the bottle of emotions that was threatening to overflow if you as much as hinted at your utter exhaustion. With all your might you wanted to convince yourself that this was temporary, you were trying your best and that no matter what happened, it all would end up being for the better. But sometimes, too much was just what it was. Too much.

Your troubles had wounded themselves tightly into an impossible knot, weighing you down until you were in a hopeless crawl, barely sentient and resorting to existing on autopilot just so you could avoid tearing up in a public place. You were not about to give your colleagues the sadistic satisfaction. With hefty heaps of sarcasm and barely concealed impatience, you waded through meeting after meeting, discussing projects that had backlogs larger than your anger. Somehow, as the day progressed, what you had already deemed to be a ‘not so good day’ had managed to one, two, triple-up itself.

First, you were notified, twenty minutes before the official launch of a function update in an internal, company-wide application, that there was a severe bug found, and the release would have to be delayed until further notice. Nothing new for a product manager to hear, but considering that you had just spent two hours in a metaphorical grill with your own senior manager, as well as the director of the department, you were not about to ‘not take things to heart’. The pressure only built as you were pinging person after person, with your dual monitor glowing from all the messaging windows, fighting against the torrent of your subordinates’ uncontrollable procrastination, all an attempt to reconfigure task assignment to fit in the same sprint. You cursed the ‘agile’ framework time and time again as you upped the severity on at least seven story points for your team, and hesitantly, transferred a hefty number to yourself.

This was a never-ending cycle. One which you would never break no matter how hard you tried. Such was your job; at least that was the excuse you gave it, since the monetary compensation was good enough to be motivated to put up with was clearly draining. In calls from early morning until late in the evening. Constantly juggling everyone’s workload and having to keep your finger on the professional pulses of at least fifty people, globally. You were no stranger to having meetings at awkward hours of the day, either. As you watched your colleagues beginning to pack up and leave for home, chatting away about their families, or about some new restaurant that opened in the area, or about some sports game, you realised you were completely deflated. Looking at your calendar, there was only one meeting – with partners in the US, to go, but it felt like an impossibly daunting task. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on your eyes and tension in your neck made it impossible to sit comfortably. But you still did it. Still sat there, in your office chair, accompanied by the squadron of chronic overtime workers whose heads were dotted across the floor as far as your eye could see, and pretended like it was not nearing nine o’clock at night.

You had promised your boyfriend that you would stop drinking coffee at weird hours, him having been horrified at how you could handle the bitter beverage, while you would pretend you did not see him sneak sweetener into his mocha. But with both of you getting busier and busier, and with you additionally trying to drown out the noise that came with not seeing him as much as you would have wanted, you slipped into your routinely coffee machine visits. The rumble of the artificial barista as it brewed up your only source of energy was soothing – the one sound in the workplace that did not pose a threat to your mental health, nor to your growing headache. Every sip was a temporary lull in an otherwise chaotic corporate fiasco you had found yourself in. Oh, how you wished you could tap out; this was your only conclusion to the dull, monotonous interlocution where not once, but twice did one of your co-workers abroad show their complete ineptitude in all things technology related by failing to share screen and check chat.

As you bid farewell to the last of the officemates who you agreed to mutual acknowledgement with, you leaned back in your chair and sighed. With the pitch black night outside, the artificial fluorescence that illuminated your pallid, tired skin appeared to be stronger, drying your eyes. If you were to stay frozen for a while, they would turn off until the next sudden movement, and maybe you could catch up on a much needed nap, cutting your sleep debt by at least a few minutes. But at the same time, could you afford those few minutes? When you were left alone with your mind, the notion of productivity and achievement became skewed, and what you would previously deem to be okay, or good enough, easily moving on to the next task, now metamorphosed – daunting, demanding monsters that haunted you, highlighting their inexistent faults in a dark crimson, covering your vision. If there was free time, that was time that could be spent working, perfecting, editing. And if it was not spent in that way, it was time wasted. Simple as that. Inadvertently, you became a lethal collaborator of the very cycle you dreaded waking up for the last couple of weeks, and were now in the process of breaking it, twisting it into a downwards spiral. You were aware of this, and yet, you remained passive, dismissing all alarm bells as overdramatization. The increase in cooling coals in your ambitious fire did not phase you, for you decided you had more important things to focus on. Like staring at your emails, unable to conjure a single coherent thought.

The words were swimming in front of you, the caffeine no longer doing anything to serve you. All that was left was the chocolatey aftertaste – you had your coffee snob colleagues to thank for campaigning for having proper beans be ordered, so everyone could travel to faraway places at least through the notes the beverage had, the harvest, taste the sun that blazed down on the rolling hills proudly bearing the farmlands. Only the memory of the dark roast sticking to the roof of your mouth, an unpleasant dryness settling along with the realisation that there was no chance you would be making any more progress. You heaved another displeased sigh, and after rolling your shoulders a couple of times, pressed on the power button, seeing how your distorted reflection appeared before you as the screens went black.

It was easy to imagine ghosts waving you goodbye, as the click-clack of your heels resonated through the main reception on the ground floor of the skyscraper where you were one of the many ants. A lonely security guard stationed by the turnstiles nodded you his farewell, hearing the beep of your id card being accepted. You nodded back. He was one of the more approachable-looking guardians of the money-making machine, you had seen him shake a joke with his fellow suited-up brethren a total of two times and you were not about to discourage yourself with the accompanying thought that you had been working in the company for just over a year now. You have not had the share of your favourite megawatt grins that would have dispelled your grim disposition, so every bit of negativity had to be treated with caution. You were a ballistic missile being transported in a rickety mule-drawn cart with one wheel falling off. Bit by bit. Step by step. You just needed an uneventful commute home, so you could collapse into your bed and forget about today, until tomorrow would inevitably remind you, and so the loop would start again.

But there it was. The cherry on top of the disgusting cake. Of course, the weather had to fit the atrocious mood. Even though your calendar explicitly stated spring, and you had been more than excited to welcome the longer days and the blooming trees and bushes, the temperamental elements were bestowed upon you as what could only be an evil prank. A cocktail of clumped up snowflakes and icy cold rain beating down on the side walk, the light emanating from a nearby streetlight gaining the appearance of static due to the rapidly cutting streaks. You cursed under your breath, already saying goodbye to your felt trench coat and blaming yourself for being too optimistic and not metaphorically gluing an umbrella to your hand. It was difficult to hold the tears that began to well up and inevitably blur your vision, turning the puddles and buildings into an urban soup. You had always wanted to see yourself as strong, or at least strong enough to be able to sustain yourself and be proud of your perseverance. But as you stood there, a stride away from being soaked by the downpour, you were trying to accept that you were fated to be ‘that one passenger’ on the metro, wavelengths of stress and misery vibrating out of you. The passenger who would have everyone sitting as far as possible and obviously concerned. You looked down, watching a stray shiny wrapper float down to the curb on a stream of water, stopping once it reached the sewage drain and the holes ended up being too small. Your hands clenched into weak fists, and you trembled, the nervous lump in your throat becoming painfully noticeable and spurring on a growing flood of apprehension. Under the stormy night sky you were so small. A tiny dot that would not leave as much as a footprint, insignificant against the menacing, ceaselessly falling drops of water, like a barrage of nature’s heavy artillery. As you were about you turn up the collar of your coat in attempt to do something, anything to protect you against the rain that you were about to step into, a voice called out, in part muted by the battering of concrete, but you would still recognise it anywhere.

“Would be cool if you could answer your phone sometimes.” Your head turned sharply to the right, in the direction from which you heard the sweet, deeper set tone.

Face slightly obscured by the edge of the huge umbrella that was loyally protecting him, there, approaching you, ambled the man who you would not dare expect to spontaneously visit you. Sure, you had your share of fantasies about how it would be like to have your boyfriend pick you up from work, or to meet up for lunch together, but both you and Yunho had phenomenally chaotic work schedules, and even calls lasting for longer than five minutes had to be planned well in advance. And while you were over the moon when you could spend time with him, the recent scarcity had led into a mounting pressure for you, to maintain a lighthearted disposition, to not let your troubles interfere with him and his life outside of a busy, demanding career. While that could have been your pride talking since such an approach took courage, your comfort was not at the forefront of your mind when you chose to not tell the full story to Yunho, when you faked a smile and covered the bags under your eyes.

"You know I can't use my phone in the office." You huffed, stuffing your hands into your pockets and feeling for the device, which you preferred to keep on do not disturb unless you knew someone was meant to be contacting you.

"Well, you are not in the office anymore, Y/N. But it’s alright, I completely get you. It’s late enough for you to not even bother with it until tomorrow, honestly." Your boyfriend shrugged his shoulders, and as he joined you under the roofing that protected the entrance from the mid-March cries of winter, he lowered and folded the black umbrella, revealing himself entirely to the streetlamp, and dim light emanating from the glass that guarded the reception area. You took in his divinely sculpted form, his smiling eyes and lips, and, in shock, realised that it had been far too long since you had seen this wondrous man in person.

He was dressed as though he had just stepped out of the dance studio, which, knowing Yunho, he very much might have. A beige hoodie, black tracksuit bottoms and some dual-toned sneakers to tie everything together he looked dangerously cuddly, which only further agitated you. Why did he have to come here without warning? Why did your ray of sunshine have to show up when you were nothing but a seething, thunderous raincloud?

"Thanks, Yun. But how and why are you here, exactly?" you did not mean to sound irritated, but your spent nerves were getting the best of you and took control of your speech. Yunho quirked an eyebrow but dismissed his perplexity in favour of lightening the atmosphere and cheering you up.

"My spidey senses told me you might need a knight in a shining automobile. And judging by how you don't have an umbrella, I think I'm right."

It was much more than just the lack of an umbrella; at your happiest, you were the type of person who would sing in the rain. It was the awkward hours at which you responded to his texts, the evident struggle you went through to keep your eyes open whenever you two would video call after work, but most of all it was how you so obviously held information back from Yunho that prompted him to approach his manager and carve out the time he otherwise would not have. If there was anything he learned over the half a year, and counting, of your relationship, was that you were a fighter, much like him - an energiser to a fault. You would give, give and give some more until there was nothing left for you, and then would lead yourself into the illusion that you were just being lazy when you were actually falling apart. You were putting on a brave, calm and collected face, and your hesitation to drop the mask in front of him was unnerving. If there was anyone in your present life who should be your pillar of support, a person you could trust, depend on, lean on be it emotionally or physically, it should be him. In Yunho's eyes, work and some pre-determined timetable was always adjustable when a loved one was in trouble, and hell, you were of the same opinion: when it came to racing across the city in the middle of the night just because he hinted at the fact that he had sustained an injury, you would stop the universe. So why did you not consider the basic healthy principle as something that was not applicable to you?

"But aren't you busy?" your inquiry sounded rhetorical. As though you had already formulated an answer for yourself and were unwilling to accept any other. To be frank, yes, Yunho was busy. So were you. Such was life. However, this element of your lives did not define you, nor did it imply having to take a secondary position in another’s life. Yunho shook his head, stepping closer to you until your arms were almost brushing.

There was a melancholic air to you. Days passing in minor chords, accumulating into a tune, then a song, then a symphony. Your sonata filled with dreams falling flat, and sharp comments forcing you to adjust your dynamics and rhythm. Yunho had fallen in love with the beautiful music of your heart – a beacon of kindness, selflessness and positivity, you had always been the first to encourage him, sometimes messaging or calling him before his members even had a chance to turn in his direction to wish him luck. An innate, deeper sense of what was around you, Yunho noticed time and time again how you elegantly navigated social landscapes, reading people, places and striving to simply do what was best for the situation you faced. You were one to intuitively know something was going on before it could even have the chance to consciously register.

But that also made you prone to wearing yourself out. Sacrificing yourself for those who did not deserve it, and not leaving enough to perform even the most basic human functions. Your boyfriend was always in awe of you, and how you could possibly have so much love contained in your body. As he gazed at your form while you rocked back and forth on your feet – a habitual action that he had realised was one of the most telling signs for your worry bubbling over, the strong urge to erase whatever parasitic dissonance was taking up space in your magnificent mind grew and grew until he could not resist to take your hand in his, smiling when he noticed your lips curl into the ghost of a smile as your fingers intertwined.

"Not busy to love you. No come on, let's get you home, you spent enough time in the glass box as is." He tugged on your hand, ready to open the umbrella again to lead you to the car he had parked around the corner, but you would not budge.

"I swear you had prac-"

"I am here. Okay? Here, now." He desperately wanted to bring you back into the present. What was outside of your control, and was not your decision to make should not preoccupy you, and yet if you caught onto as much as a hint of being the source of inconvenience for another, it sent you into a grim spiral. Not this time, Yunho was not going to let you keep doing this to yourself, even if it took a lifetime.

"It must have taken you so long to get here I-" your voice was growing quieter and quieter as you focused on the sensation of Yunho’s warm hand pressed against yours.

You had not realised how much you missed the feeling, and the reassurance that came with it. He was here, indeed. He was here with you. He was there for you. You raised your head as soon as he squeezed your hand a couple of times but struggled to maintain eye contact due to the evident concern written in his glimmering orbs. The tender, compassionate eyes, irises a dark mahogany hue, a safe haven in your hardship. You wished you could fall into those pools and drift into the blissful serenity they offered. At the same time, it was terrifying how he was peering right into your soul, making it seem as if your vulnerabilities were right there, on display, just for him. A shiver ran down your spine despite the layers you were wearing.

"If you checked your phone, you would now that my schedule changed." He commented, gleaming.

"Oh, so you are saying I'm wrong for worrying now?" you tried to pry yourself away, but Yunho strengthened his grip. He was not about to let you float into that headspace again.

"I don’t mean to make you angry here, just pointing a thing out." Voice level, the dulcet timbre silently posed a question to you – what was the rush? Why were you trying to run from affection?

"I am not angry! Just why is it that out of the blue you decide to appear? I would have been fine-"

"What, have other plans?"

"Uh, no? Going home?"

"So, what is there to stop me from popping by to see my girlfriend?” he pursed his lips, pulling you towards him so that you were facing him directly. Spontaneously interested in everything but his piercing scrutiny, you took to studying the white drawstrings of his hoodie.

"But�� uh… well… There is like, a lot happening right now, isn’t there? For both of us? I mean… you have all that filming to do, the comeback to prepare for… you literally just came back from tour and…” you caught yourself rambling, and trailed off into the sound of rainfall.

"Hm. Figured."

Yunho nodded to himself, clicking the tip of his umbrella against the ground as though dotting a full stop on a page. Confused, you attempted to prompt him for an elaboration.

"Excuse me?"

"That you are burned out."

The phrase was a scalding hot iron thrown at the barriers you had painstakingly been building around your mind palace. You knew that it was true. Hell, if someone had just asked you to speak the truth about what you were feeling, this was the first thing that would come to mind, but were you going to say it? No. Never. What you were feeling and what influenced you was nobody else’s problem.

"Am not." It was childish, but it was the only response you could conjure without making tears well up in your eyes. Yunho was too close, too attentive, too much for your distressed and hurt heart.

"Are too."

"Look I am fine. There is nothing-” you peered at the darkness on the other side of the street. Tuned into the rustling of the trees that lined it, and wished for yourself to become part of the scenery instead of having to confront what Yunho was trying to get you to admit.

“You said there is a lot happening for both of us, and then you just list things off about me,” he was not going to let you go this easily, both in discussion and physically as he removed his hand from yours and instead placed it on your waist, “I am perfectly aware of them. I know my limits, and I know that I am managing fine only because I am honoured to have so many people supporting me. And now, I want one of these people to tell me what this ‘a lot’ means to them, and why they are now looking in the other direction.”

Your head snapped back to Yunho, revealing your misty-eyed state. Immediately, his expression softened, and he pulled you in, keeping you flush against his chest as he absent-mindedly rubbed your back with his thumb, while his other hand was keeping the wet umbrella a safe distance away from your clothing. You bit your lip as you took in Yunho’s comforting scent. He never wore any particular perfume, instead opting to smell like a mixture of fresh laundry and a miniscule hint of soap. And yet, if you could bottle this and keep it, you would in a heartbeat. To you, this was what the aroma of home, of safety was. If he wished to make you unravel your ball of troubles, this was the way to do it, you confirmed as you felt yourself automatically melt into his touch, blinking away tears that you were tired of holding. Not exactly aligned with your scheduled ‘half an hour of breaking down when you get to your apartment’, but who were you to complain about Yunho staying here with you, in the cold, adamant on defeating your inner voice that otherwise would have led you into a further darkness.  

"Let's continue this in the car, yeah?" His voice wavered, dropping into the softest whisper which jolted you out of your guards entirely, and you let yourself be guided by him to his car.

As you ambled, side by side, you were enveloped in a total silence, the raindrops forming an abstract beat on the umbrella above you. Arm around you, fingers landing just under your shoulder, Yunho was afraid of letting you go even for an instant, the fragility in your steps and fumbling for a response as he asked if his hold felt alright for you exposing your inner dejection. And once he had you and him settled in the front and driver’s seats respectively, he put the key into ignition, but did not turn it just yet. As the rain painted a blurry masterpiece on the windshield, he tilted his head, and looked at you.

“Tell me about your day.” A simple ask, but to you it felt like one of those unsolvable mathematics problems. You could lie, and on any other occasion you probably would with a classic ‘I’m fine thank you and you’, but you would be foolish to think that Yunho would buy that. If anything, he would explicitly label the nonsense for what it was and encourage you to give him a real answer with nothing but those gorgeous, hopeful eyes of his.

“It was… you know what, it was a lot. Too much even. Really, the last couple of weeks have been too much.” You uttered, annoyance starting to boil within you as you recalled the rollercoaster of events.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want to weigh you don’t with it. Really, this is nothing. It will pass.” You fiddled with the buttons on the blazer, now within reach as you had unzipped your coat. Though your words were grammatically correct, nothing made sense to you. What was it that you were saying? Learned phrased out of the automatic deflection compartment, lines of defence in an effort to avoid discussion.

“Then why are you giving it so much power?” Yunho persisted.

“Uh… I don’t know, maybe because it is my job?”

“So, you get paid to have burn outs?” while he asked this in a joking manner, his smile did not spread past a brief flash. When you did not send a retort in his direction, he motioned for you to continue. You hated to admit it, but you agreed. As of late, this was exactly what your job had turned into. You being a hamster stuck in a wheel, running ceaselessly with no rest breaks in sight. Running in the hopes of there being a finish line. A success. A milestone. But all there seemed to be was more paperwork, more reporting, more meetings, more conflict, and more doubt.

“Well, now that you say that…”

“I am not one to judge professional choices and perfectionism. In fact, I respect you so much for being so dedicated, and being such a hard worker. But a siren is going off right now, okay? You are on the edge of a cliff, and we do not want you to fall off it, yeah?”

“What cliff?”

“I am an idiot for not picking up on this sooner, but now that I have, I must tell you: you are being pushed way past your limit, and you need a break. It is basically doctor’s orders.”

“But it’s just wo-”

“Tell me, what was the last thing one of your colleagues had said to you? About your work?” Yunho was no stranger to office gossip, through you having occasionally divulged to him the drama occurring in your workplace, and through the myriad of dramas he had watched with you and noticed that you often reacted to what was happening on screen as if it hit very close to home.

“Uhm… but it was not a nice thing so…”

“Say it.” Interest turned into a demand, and Yunho leaned closer to you.

“I only overheard it…”

“And? You still heard it.” Dropping his voice low, he rejected your subconscious devaluing of what had obviously been harm incurred.

“That I was trying too hard to please my boss…” a mumble escaped you, followed by a ragged sigh. Why was this so hard?

“That is fucked up.”

“…even though I was literally just doing my job. I was asked to do this report and all there was that was extra to it was me wanting to make it look pretty.” While you were not saying anything particularly heart-breaking, at least not by your definition, you choked up and had to force each word out with the strength you had left.

“I swear, humans are strange creatures,” Yunho mused out loud before chuckling, “says I, a human.”

“But that’s exactly why you can say it. And besides, you are a thoughtful human. Pretty much a blessing, Yunho. So don’t even.” Finally, a genuine grin graced your features, reminiscent of the first rays of sunlight after a merciless storm. Basking in the glow, Yunho returned it twofold and proudly wore the blush that started to rise on his cheeks. But he knew better than abandoning his mission so early on.

“Not to be cringe or anything, but to hear that coming from an angel is quite the honour.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you laughed airily. But the moment, unfortunately, did not last long, and your day was once more overcast by rumination. Yunho did not speak, waiting for you to give him as much detail as you felt comfortable with sharing.

“Sometimes, even if I am trying my hardest, I get this sense that I might be better off shutting up and giving the others the reins.”

“So, they are disrespecting their own manager?”

“I guess it's because I am younger than them or something. I mean, I get it, it is a gnarly economic period for the company, and everyone is losing their marbles, trying to stay above the water, but it would be good if they at least took my advice into consideration.”

If looks could destroy, then the glare that Yunho sent your office building would have set it ablaze. To curb his anger, he drummed out an abstract pattern on the steering wheel, though the grip that followed it told all. He blamed himself for not having been there sooner. For letting this pain pile on until it turned to a ball and chain that progressively set out to ruin what had been your dream career. If only it was as easy to wipe away cutting words and agonising actions like faint graphite etchings on a piece of paper.

“They should know their place, that’s what," he hissed, giving the wheel one final thump before pushing himself into his seat and turning to you, "You are being too soft on them, in my opinion. And that is why they are acting out. Promise me this, you will show them that you are a frontline manager, and you are more than capable of keeping things under control-”

“I’m trying-”

“-by taking a break. People can sense weakness, especially people who are not so kind to you. And while I cannot fix their attitude, I can try my best to help you. And before you say it, you are not coming into the office on the weekend, I am booking you up.”

"How do you know I do that?"

"Over the months of video calls you really think I did not memorise that one conference room you use to call me?" He shot back, smirking as you were at a loss, the only option being to roll your eyes and give yourself up to a legally mandated holiday.

“Yunho, you are too selfless, please, I just need a couple more hours of sleep and I’ll be all sorted."

“No, I will be selfish and take care of you. So, sit back, relax, and think of happy things. And that’s an order.”

“But that is not how selfish works?”

“It does in our world. Besides, don't you want to show them who is the boss?" The cheeky boyish grin won you over, and you beamed, whispering an amused:

"Unbelievable..."

Falling in love with Yunho did not give you butterflies in your stomach. If anything, it calmed the anxious knots that accumulated over however long the time between you being in each other's presence was. Sure, you would be okay without one another. Living life, achieving what you wanted to achieve. Brought down by the gloomy days but rising again. But together, those days were just so much less gloomy. The, what could only be described as innate, trust that you had formed in one another, was the invisible string tying you together in the gift that was your present. Falling and being in love with Yunho was like a warm day in the spring, a promise for new life, for blue skies and for a warm breeze caressing the blossoms of affection. It was like the starry night sky in the early summer, with you and him sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building where you lived, on an old bed sheet because you were yet to invest in a proper picnic blanket, but still the happiest people in the world.

As he closed the gap between you, running his fingers over your jawline before cupping your face to get a better angle, you closed your eyes and gave into the adoration that emanated from him. In the subtlest of gestures, in the sentimentality that translated into him understanding you better than how you understood yourself, he was every bit a man head over heels in love. And while either of you were yet to say the words, each action and inaction both screamed it. Perhaps it was something more than love. A proximity of the souls that was built in the quietude, in the shadows of an emotional flurry. In the hustle and bustle of common terminology, labels and anniversaries, a little world that could only come into existence with genuine intent and care became a reality. This cozy corner that housed only you and Yunho. 'Did you eat?', 'I will take care of you', 'I'm outside with medicine' were all manifestations of this unspoken devotion. And as he placed one final kiss on your rosy lips before starting up the car, you were entertained by the fascinating coincidence in the only term you could think of to describe this feeling being the exact same as your boyfriend's surname.

Flickering lights, neon signs and a revelation that the cycle could stop. Though you were on the verge of somnolence, barely resisting drowsiness settling on your eyelids like the snowflakes outside, you watched as Yunho masterfully spun the steering wheel while singing a melody which you recognised to be Standing Egg's Starry Night, one which you had made him repeat again and again as soon as you had heard it once. Upon noticing your gaze resting on him, he broke into a chuckle and fell quiet until the next red light.

"Mmm, why did you stop?" You asked and pouted, glancing at Yunho's arm as he pulled on the handbrake.

"Because I want to look at you as I sing it:

Here we are close to star

I want to stay with you forever like this

Here we are close to star

The endless starry sky and you and me..."

As he sang, in the air hung a promise. One which you did not need for him to say out loud to understand, for more often than not, the feeling itself was the true, and magical meaning.

[gingerylangylang1979]

If he gets his shit together Carmy could be an amazing husband and father

Currently, Carmy is a hot mess. But I really hope the show doesn’t intend for that to be his end game. Yes, he will always struggle with mental health issues. People aren’t cured of them, it’s a matter of managing life with them. If only mentally healthy people had spouses and children most of us wouldn’t be here and the world would be a lonely place. Unless someone is a danger to themselves and others I hate it when I hear people trying to dictate who should reproduce and who shouldn’t. I don’t even want to get into the mildly hinting at eugenicist implications of such statements.

Carmy has a way to go. Some may say he shouldn’t have had a romantic relationship. Looking back I actually think it was good that he at least tried. At the moment he thinks it was a mistake and he shouldn’t try again. But that will change as he progresses. It was a learning experience. It showed that he is capable of giving his heart, caring for a partner, being romantic, letting loose, being domestic. It also shows that there is a part of him that is unfulfilled without a relationship. It was just bad timing with the wrong person. 

Beyond that I think part of Carmy’s character is a sense of respect and care for women. He speaks up when Richie harasses Sydney and when the guys were being vulgar about Claire at Christmas. He hasn’t really had a role model for chivalry and feminism but he has those values and isn’t afraid of being called “weird”. He doesn’t seem to care about fitting into the Berzatto male paradigm. He actively tries to escape it when it comes to worldview. This is why Richie calls him “woke”. Richie is built different. Mikey is built different. 

Carmy is a product of the best traits of his generation and exposure to different lifestyles. He’s traveled. He’s worked with women as his superiors and equals. He’s not afraid to bring Sydney on as his CDC, Tina on as her Sous, and Natalie as project manager. He has anger issues that are often directed at Sydney but it’s not because she’s a woman. We never see him try to dominate in his relationship with Claire. He also isn’t intimidated that Claire has post-graduate education and may have more long term earning potential than him unless he really becomes a culinary mogul. 

Carmy has paternal instincts. At the kid’s birthday party he knew they would want ketchup, he made the ecto-cooler, he was more concerned than anyone else about them being sedated. He made Tiff probably the best Sprite on the planet. I’m sure when Nat’s baby arrives he will be smitten, even if a fish out of water. I’m curious if he has interacted with Ava. 

With the staff he is nurturing when opportunities arise. He sold off some of his prized denim to keep the place afloat. He still makes the beef even if it’s the wrong cut. He continues service after the toilet explodes because they have to keep it movin. He consoles Marcus when he fucked up service. He also warns him to stay on track but didn’t hold it against him when he actually did go off point. He bails Richie out with their parachute. He sends Marcus to Copenhagen, Tina and Ebra to culinary school, Richie to Chef Terry. He gives Sydney the space to experiment and fail. He keeps everyone on and paid. He fucks up big time and becomes unhinged but he earnestly apologizes. He’s trying. He cares. He knows he needs work. He wants to provide in the best way he’s able at the moment. 

So with time, patience, and consistency, perhaps years from now I can really see him being a great partner and father. Carmy is a survivor. He doesn’t give up, he’s gonna make shit happen, he’s good at pivoting, he stays committed. Please let him have a wife and kid(s) someday if he desires. Thinking he should be alone forever is deeply pessimistic. 

Adding: Carmy is also very attentive. His radar goes off immediately when Sydney is upset. He tries to fix it. He’s struggling now but he wants to put in the work and won’t leave things with them at odds. He’s not too proud to apologize.

[zodiactalks]

Zodiac Signs When They Are MAD

Anger is an emotion everyone feels.

How we handle it differs from person to person. It can be explosive from the start. It could appear as passive-aggressiveness. Or maybe no one will ever be able to tell there is anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Anyone is capable of unrestrained, destructive anger. Just as anyone is capable of managing that anger healthily. It depends on the maturity of the individual.

Let’s take a look at how each of the zodiac signs reacts when they are mad.

Aries

Aries is the classical explosive anger type. They will go for the knockout as soon as they are pushed too far.

Aries has a strong sense of justice, especially when they have warned others to stop crossing their boundaries. If they don’t stop when warned, Aries won’t hesitate to call them out. 

Contrary to popular belief, Aries isn’t always boiling with rage. It can take longer than expected for them to explode. They can get frustrated, sure, which can look like anger to others. 

But true anger in Aries will be obvious. When they’ve had enough, they can become destructive. Physically, or to their relationships with others in ways that, most of the time, can’t be mended.

Taurus

Taurus is known to be explosive when they are mad. And also for taking obscene amounts of time before they express that anger.

It could be taken out on targets who don’t deserve it because they happened to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Taurus has an extremely high tolerance for anger. They don’t find it a productive emotion and would rather not feel it either. It is a toxic emotion in their opinion. It doesn’t fix the problem or convey the root of the emotion to others.

But when Taurus does finally blow up, they will unleash every ounce of rage they’ve held back on their target. It could be weeks, months, or years' worth of anger dumped on one person. 

Once the dust has settled, Taurus will feel awful. 

Unless the person deserved it, then justice was served.

Gemini

Gemini will defeat those who make them mad in a battle of words. 

Quick-witted and silver-tongued, Gemini can use these gifts as weapons when they are angry. And it’s extremely effective. 

If Gemini is angry at someone else, prepare to listen to them vent. Gemini is very good at expressing their frustrations verbally. It may take them a while to get to the root of their anger, but letting them vent will help them find it.

Luckily, once Gemini has talked their anger out, they let it go. Gemini isn’t one to hold a grudge. Once they’ve said what needs to be said, they will either make up with the source of their anger or walk away.

Cancer

Cancer can be very good at hiding their anger. They are very passive-aggressive. 

Being a zodiac sign that runs hot and cold, Cancer is both those extremes when angry. They can hide it so well you’d never know, or they may shock you with an explosion of accusations.

A healthy Cancer can control the explosive side of their anger. But they are still capable of it when pushed beyond what they can handle.

Cancer tends to take things personally, and their hurt is guarded by their anger. Being mad feels much more powerful than being in pain. 

And like their symbol, the crab, when they are in pain, they retreat into their shell and snap their pinchers at what hurt them.

Leo

When Leo is mad, they just want to hurt their target.

Leo has very childish anger and how they express it. Even if they don’t mean the things, they are yelling at you. Leo gets loud and dramatic. 

A good example of Leo's anger can be seen on just about any reality tv show. There is always a dramatic fight over something. It results in name-calling, theatrics, and ultimately someone walking away.

It can leave the person on the other side of that anger hurt and confused as to why Leo is being so cruel. 

Leo’s anger is a form of self-defense. They’d rather be angry than vulnerable. 

Virgo

Virgo hates conflict. But that doesn’t change the fact they get mad just like everyone else.

Virgo opts to be passive-aggressive when they are angry. They will find little ways to slight others and make comments that can be interpreted multiple ways.

Virgo tends to hold grudges because of not properly expressing their anger. So instead of being vented, that anger is held onto and stewed in until something finally breaks.

Virgo would prefer to go on passive-aggressively until they die. But there is inevitably something that they can’t tolerate ignoring any longer. 

That’s when they bring the receipts, the facts, and the legal argument to win over the jury. 

Libra

Libra's anger is silent.

Another zodiac sign whose go-to move when they are mad is to be passive-aggressive. Libra will use the silent treatment to stonewall others in a fashion unique to them.

When they are truly angry, they will remove themselves from the situation.

A healthy Libra can be capable of talking through their issues with the offending party. If they believe the other person is capable of understanding why Libra is mad. 

They want to know their anger has a real chance of being heard and changes being made. If they don’t think the other person will listen or understand them, Libra will merely ignore them.

Scorpio

Scorpio expresses their anger through body language.

Every-proud Scorpio will remain passive when they are mad. But their body language will tell a different story. Eventually, they will explode if the signs are ignored. 

Scorpio is more than able to destroy another person when they are mad. It makes them careful about how they act, especially when mad at loved ones. 

Sagittarius

Sagittarius takes a while to get mad.

They generally go with the flow type people, so it can be shocking when they finally lose it. 

Sagittarius is known for being straightforward speakers. This extends to when they are angry. Sagittarius knows just what words of truth to give you to make it hurt. Really hurt.

Once Sagittarius has decided to stop being nice, they won’t hold back. And unlike with their fire sign sibling Leo, Sagittarius means every word they say. And everything is the truth. It’s indisputable facts.

Careful when a Sagittarius is mad.

Capricorn

Capricorns get a god complex when they are angry.

They begin to act more in charge, possibly micromanaging others into insanity. Capricorn will have nothing good to say. It will all be insults and criticisms. 

This zodiac sign is one of the most dangerous when they are mad. Capricorn is vengeful and doesn’t care if the person they are mad at is right. They made Capricorn look bad, now they have to pay.

Capricorn is very effective at taking their revenge, too. This is a zodiac sign you should avoid angering at all costs.

Aquarius

Aquarius is a very tolerant zodiac sign, it’s very hard to make them mad.

When they are finally pushed too far, Aquarius is likely to be sharp with their words. They will usually retreat into isolation to cool off. 

Aquarius will stop making appearances in that person's life. They simply won’t respond to calls or texts. 

Aquarius wants to protect their energy. If someone pushed them far enough to become this mad, Aquarius has decided they aren’t worth being around. They would rather put their time and energy elsewhere than fight or hang around stupid people.

Pisces

When Pisces is mad, they become self-destructive.

Pisces internalizes their anger in a passive-aggressive, unhealthy way. This usually ends with more damage to themselves than anyone else. 

That doesn’t mean they won’t lash out. This will appear as an emotional outburst that has them throwing whatever painful thing they can think of at the other person. Pisces wants them to feel the same pain inflicted on them.

Even if that pain is mostly self-inflicted. Pisces needs to learn how to process their anger in a way that won’t cause them more hurt. 

[rock-in-robins]

cissie king-jones aka arrowette is the product of being the daughter of a mother who is living vicariously through her.

Her mother Bonnie made her into the vigilante that she never could be. In Cissie's orgin story in YJ98 she says this to her psychiatrist 'Bonnie's story is mine. And mine is hers. She made sure of that.' which noticeably cissie doesn't call Bonnie any term of endearment, implying a sense of distance between the two, like she views Bonnie more as a manager or a mentor than a mother at times. (which is an interesting parallel to tim who views bruce more as a parent figure then mentor at times). Bonnie outright says that money from cissies father, who she calls bowstring (his hero ID, which is a lot to unpack), can give Cissie the life bonnie never got, aka the hero-life. And that shes doing it for cissies sake, believing that this very dangerous life is good for a young person. Cissie on the other hand sees this as Bonnie taking the chance to accomplish her dreams.

Cissie describes her entire childhood of a blur of sports, beauty-pageants, and 'Camp Bonnie', all with the goal of turning her into Bonnie. interestingly Bonnie's mother put her through a similar childhood of archery training, making this lifestyle a cycle of trying to make their daughters into what they could never be.

Once Cissie does become a vigilante, Bonnie still directs her every move and Cissie every time responds with, "Yes mommy." another interesting vocal tic of hers, seemingly trying to make herself seem like the perfect daughter. Bonnies response to Superman's death is that is will take attention away from cissie, so she needs to work harder which is yikes. She puts a like 13 yr old cissie in increasingly more dangerous situations (in a suit that provides very little protection and is very flashy) until max mercury turns her in for child endangerment (go max!). Bonnie is put under psychiatric observation for her anger issues.

Cissie only becomes Arrowette again to prove to her mother that she can do it better than she did and that she can do it on her own. essentially giving her mother what she wants but Cissie is too young to really understand that.