#typing on the phone keyboard has been a Challenge

[celsidebottom]

Oh for the next couple days if I reblog something multiple times or add gibberish to it or something it's not me it's the fact that I just had surgery and have fallen asleep while scrolling multiple times and who knows what will happen if the app is left unsupervised

[skrrts]

stairs & life, up / down (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, strangers to love interest, comfort, soft emotional ✧ word count: 10,4k ✧ warnings: adult language, smoking (don’t do it!), loneliness, end of friendships, moving on from a relationship, getting over heartbreaks, facing challenges in life, crying

The ripping sound of paper, the clicking of a mechanical keyboard. Loneliness sounds & feels different to everyone but somehow, Hongjoong feels like you understand his. Yet, you confuse him. Why was your first encounter so bold when he hears you crying at night when you think nobody is listening? The fire escape of the old building suddenly becomes a place of comfort he didn’t expect to find in the loneliest city, filled with millions of people but now, there is you.

a/n: when i think of summer, i think of spending long nights outdoors because it's still warm and you just talk for hours without worrying about whatever happens tomorrow. hongjoong & mc both went through some hardships with different types of relationships but they are where they want to move on, all they needed was a hand to grab them and help them going forward. thanks for reading 🤎

The sound of paper being torn apart was often how Hongjoong would describe what his own heartbeak felt like and maybe, if it wasn’t already in pieces, it would be now. Fifty hours of passion, sleepless nights, and love torn apart, a woman with an unpleasant face hissing when she dropped his art like it was a random document.

“There was no reason to destroy it just because you did not like it,” he finally stated and received glares for daring to speak up. “It was garbage, what exactly did you plan to do with it? In fact, every artwork you have shown me in the past few months has been just that. What was the point in hiring you when your social media works were all fake?!”

Hongjoong wanted to wince but somehow managed to keep it together, being called deceitful as an artist who had given up so much for his art was hard.

“My style is exactly the same as the work you saw when you contacted me and I work the exact same way,” he bit his lip when she stood up and seemed more interested in answering her phone which was constantly buzzing in her overpriced pouch. People of her rank often held no passion at all, they only faked it for the smiles and the press.

”You have another month, if you cannot come up with the proper concept, you are out and of course, we cut your payment in half again. After all, since you came here five months ago, you did not deliver anything we could work with. That’s all.”

Hongjoong was about to demonstrate but the director of the publishing agency just left him standing there. 

He never wanted to come to New York, he could not care less about the city everyone wanted to live in but there had been nothing left for him back home. When he found the girl he loved and dated since high school being with another, the one he had given his whole heart to so foolishly, telling him it was a pity that kept them together for so long because just like so many other people around him, she judged him for his passion and his income rather than his values and happiness. Sure, he could survive from what he was doing but in their eyes, it was not worth to be called living. She dreamt of a house with a pool, a nice car, and an expensive beach vacation, rather than a cozy apartment, taking the bus and weekend trips.

On that day, when he was crying and walking through his hometown without direction, his parents said that it was time to finally grow up and work for a mindless ad agency that would gladly take somebody with his talent rather than chase his dreams of being permitted to illustrate an entire children's book, one with a deeper meaning unlike all the projects he was part of so far, where he often designed characters but based on guidelines rather than freely.

The invitation of a publisher seemed to be a wink of fate but now, Hongjoong simply found himself trapped in a city of millions, yet never having been more alone. 

Maybe he always had been, considering how blind love made him, believing to hold the love of a woman who cheated on him for who knows how long, likely even making use of his nights of working and being home late.

He had been such a fool.

The small ringing of a bell announced his arrival as he entered the familiar small grocery store which always was the destination at the end of days like today.

One benefit in all of his misery, Hongjoong was used to managing his life with little money, he could live from the shortened salary with some tricking and ignoring cravings. There also had been savings for emergencies, put aside for better times.

“How do you even manage to survive when this is all you eat?” San frowned, pointing at the selection of instant noodles and a few cans as he scanned each one. The store belonged to his family and the student helped out frequently. 

Hongjoong offered him a playful little grin: “Magic, Sannie. Now…”

He bit his cheek and the man knew, frowning: “Another package? You said you meant to quit smoking for good… you rather should get dinner rather than spend it on this shit.”

Painted nails brushed through dark wavy hair as he shrugged: “I’m an artist, we need to have some kind of weakness, yes? Unless I suddenly find a muse and that one makes me go insane.”

He knew the other meant well as he sighed but added a package into the plastic bag, handing it to him. “Just look out for yourself.”

Hongjoong smiled at the younger: “I always do. See ya.” The guy did not need to know what he was going through, maybe Hongjoong himself was still trying to understand just that.

It was easy to smile for everyone, he had become an expert in that field. Maybe he should join those TikTokers who made seminars out of canvas pages about something that barely was a secret but called it ‘Guide to Happiness’.

At least, he was about to be home, his haven. Hongjoong had been thrilled when he found the under-the-roof apartment because there was no AC and the building was rundown, the rent was cheap but he loved it because he easily managed to access the roof, there was nothing more beautiful than allowing himself to sulk in loneliness while watching the never sleeping city.

It was almost poetic, wasn’t it?

There also used to be the benefit of being the only one who did not put some shutters on the window which was the entrance to the fire stairs. The view was ugly, but it was handy to simply take the stairs and get right up.

Well, it used to be because the new tenant who moved into the apartment right underneath him did not seem to share the sentiment of the others, the window was always wide open and it would be creepy if he would rush past it.

He lurked up but Hongjoong noticed immediately how it was open again and he sighed, muttering to himself as he made the way up to the longer stairs. Too many. He dodged a few abandoned shoes of children in front of one, a growling dog at the third, and survived!

“I am home.” 

When he unlocked the door, silence greeted him. There no longer was anyone who rushed over to smile and welcome him back but now, he was not even sure if that ever happened or merely being an imagination, an altered memory. 

His apartment was small but that was okay, he didn’t need a living room and only having a tiny shower made being short less tragic.

While Hongjoong lived up to the cliche of being a poor artist, at least he did not need too much space.

His gaze went over the sketches still scattered over the kitchen table, picking one up: “Guess, you aren’t it either, sorry.” Unlike that awful woman, he carefully formed a small pile and put it in a paper tray for all his rejected designs, so far it had been every single one he offered to them. 

Maybe it was time to give up…

No, this was not the time to cry and get sad! Urgh, hard enough to admit he had been such a crybaby when moving here, the way how his heart ached and he was lost among strangers. It was when he started smoking again, something he stopped years ago but now.

There was nobody who would complain about the smell.

Hongjoong slipped into the shower, running water always helped to wash away thoughts, he just imagined it as he carefully cleaned every inch before enjoying the feeling of a fresh pair of clothes and ruffling his hair with a towel. 

“Attempt number seven it is,” he sat down, pulling over his tablet when a loud ringing sound interrupted the early hours of the night, enough to make him jump.

“The fuck?!” Hongjoong blinked, looking around but he was sure he didn’t even own an old-fashioned alarm clock. As the sound wouldn’t stop, he rushed to the window, lurking out only to realize it must be coming from your place. Why would you have an alarm clock going off at nine?!

Nobody else seemed to be interrupted by it but Hongjoong and he was working best at night. As nothing happened, he figured you probably just forgot to turn it off before leaving, how reckless to leave your window open in New York!

There was clear hesitation before he climbed out of his window, taking down the stairs: “Screw this…”

Your window was wide open, the curtains softly floating outside, all lights on. Your place was just a little bigger than his but you surely put more effort in! The walls were painted in a comfortable olive green, plants matched perfectly with the white furniture and there was a large gaming setup he did not really expect but then, what did he know about you? The bed was covered with far too many pillows but there it was, the one causing so much trouble.

The alarm clock had the shape of a flower, it was cute and he wondered how somebody who liked such a style would move to this part of the city…

“What do I do?” Hongjoong looked around. He counted to one hundred. There was nobody in sight, the sound drove him insane and he did not want you to get back home just to find your expensive equipment stolen. The world was an asshole to him but he intended to be better.

He swallowed and slipped inside your home, quick steps leading to the damn noisy item to turn it off. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and you walked inside, holding likely a few bottles of soap you just switched out, your gazes met and he could see how your face turned red, just like his own, and the next second, there was a small scream and you started to throw shampoo bottles at him.

Hongjoong tried to dodge them, dropping the alarm clock in the attempt and grabbed one of your pillows to protect himself.

“Hold on! Stop throwing things at me”, he called out but now you seemed angry.

“Why would I do this?! You just broke into my apartment! A thief? Gosh, you are one of those perverts, aren’t you?” You were one burst of energy, he had to give you that. Hongjoong was about to say something when he fell backward over another pillow.

His hands lifted up into the air, praying you’d not murder him with hair conditioner: “Hold on, hold on. I live above you! Your alarm wouldn’t stop and I thought you left so I meant to close the window, lots of robberies in this neighborhood!”

While your face remained distrustful, you held your movement in the middle of the air, frowning, doubting.

“Which neighbor breaks into a place to turn off an alarm bell?” you questioned and that was a good question. Who would have done that? 

“Well, I actually work at night, I need a little bit of silence but how am I supposed to do this with that noise?” he pointed at the alarm once more and this time, you considered his words.

“Fine, let’s say it is the truth. It’s still weird, you could have used the staircase and just knocked on the door like any other angry neighbor would.”

That was… a very good point. 

“I should have done that,” he admitted and slowly stood again. You were looking at him, maybe considering how he barely looked like a threat, considering he was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie with a washed-out brand name.

“Alright, I will forget about it. Now get out!” you pointed towards the window and Hongjoong found himself blushing in embarrassment. he clapped his hands, bowing slightly: “I promise to knock next time.”

As you hurried over, you wondered if he had seen right and there was a small smile on your lips as he carefully slipped out. As he turned around on the fire escape, you closed the window, and your gazes met for a moment, he was giving you a tiny wave before you rolled your eyes and closed your curtains.

Hongjoong stood there, blinking for a moment until he sighed and made his way upstairs, just to be greeted with the wind likely having shut his own, forcing him to go all the way down like that and up to his apartment. Thankfully he didn’t lock the door yet when he came home earlier.

“Tch, such a reckless neighbor,” he smiled.

“Oh? Oh! This is new!” Wooyoung fished the box with flower-shaped chocolate out of the paper bag. Hongjoong made a face, trying to snatch it but the younger grinned, holding it up.

“They are also kind of expensive, do you have a crush?” It took some effort but eventually, he stole his box bag and gave it to San who was scanning them.

“I am not in love, I just kind of pissed off one of my neighbors and now I intend to make it up somehow since they live in the apartment right underneath me,” he put quite a bit of effort in leaving out as many details as possible because Wooyoung would be curious enough to just knock on your window to see himself.

“Right, you said somebody moved into the empty apartment? Took some time, you mentioned that it was already without a tenant when you moved in.”

He appreciated the cashier was offering some distraction to his best friend’s consideration of just going with Hongjoong, he did not need to say it out loud for the older to guess as much.

“Ah yeah, the landlord was surprised when he offered that one but I asked about the rooftop apartment instead. I just like the peace and quiet, nobody above me, all that,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“The Lone artist above the rooftops of New York City, romantic if you asked me,” Wooyoung winked and grabbed his backpack. “Anyway, time for training, call you later San!” He waved and rushed off, the other just smiled before handing the grocery bag to Hongjoong.

“I am sure the person knows to appreciate it, this is the first time I have seen you try and … well, mention to interact with anyone outside of this store.” 

Hongjoong tried his best not to swallow hard. While San only was having a casual conversation, he called out something that the artist had tried to avoid admitting: he had dodged everyone and everything ever since coming here.

The hurt was still too deep, the way the person closest to him, he smiled at and kissed every day, threw him away like trash and everyone else saying he should understand how it certainly wasn’t an easy life rather than taking his side

or just offer comfort.

He could have used a hug.

Now, it was hard to let anyone in. San and Wooyoung were nice but they just were two guys working at a grocery store that was conveniently close to his apartment, as kind as they seemed. 

“I just really like living here, sure, the neighborhood’s a bit … tense at times but otherwise, the rent is really cheap and the place is great to work at, not much noise considering we are in a city of this size.” 

San was looking at you, it was hard to tell if he took it or simply decided to keep his thoughts to himself but he smiled: “Well, just make sure to also enjoy the city, not only busy yourself with work. I know, artists are said to do that but yeah.”

It was as if he wanted to say more but Hongjoong already waved in tiny, grabbing his bag: “Speaking of that, I have a deadline so I better be going. Thanks again.”

Hongjoong was out the moment after, he could not hear San’s deep sigh when the bell rang once more.

He spent a good amount of time drawing a little doodle that looked like your alarm clock, looking upset and cursing about that weird guy in a little thought bubble. Next to it, Hongjoong wrote, "Sorry for having broken into your place, heard this chocolate is great." He was pleased with the result and carefully stepped outside his window, placing the little delivery right by your window, knocking against the glass, and he rushed upstairs, jumping into his own home as he waited for the noise of you opening.

His heart was beating loudly when he lurked around the corner, hearing you sigh but in a pleasant way. He did not dare to fully look, biting your lip but after a very long minute, he could hear your voice: "Just knock next time you want to say hello."

Your laugh was so soft and cute.

He grinned when the window was shut a moment later and the chocolate was gone.

Hongjoong had a talent for forgetting about time when he was working and it was less about the deadline and more so about his passion. He always loved to draw, it had been his escape from a young age and he pushed through it, no matter the concerns of everyone around him. He never wanted to be rich, just do what he loved and make enough to be able to live from it.

In a way he did, his old apartment was small but nice with a lovely view and enough space for two. Looking back, he had been a fool how he thought that his ex would enjoy it, that she liked they took their time and both added to a dream of a larger home. The series he illustrated with a few other artists for a children's magazine was doing well then, he knew it was one of the favorites in consideration of being further produced with another spin-off when it happened, Hongjoong quit.

Just like most, he also worked digitally but when he was in the early stages, he often liked to reach out for old-fashioned paper, getting a few sketches done. It was when his pencil rolled from the table that he pulled the chunky headphones from his ears to pick it up when he heard it for the first time.

It was a quiet sob, the kind where you hated yourself and just wanted to stop but your body was boycotting you, ignoring your quiet pleas for it to stop. Hongjoong had done the same for a while after coming to New York but somehow, yours hit him more than he expected. The way you faced him when he came in, the conversation after.

He should know better than assuming you were a confident person just doing your thing.

His slim figure pressed against the wall next to the open window when he listened to how you cried.

It was strange, when the heart ached, even a city like this could fall in utter silence, making one feel even more alone. He bit his lip, it was hard to listen to it and when he finally convinced himself that checking on you was more important than his fear of interrupting, the small clicking sound to pull his window fully open seemed to be enough to chase you inside like a bird fleeing from busy human steps.

All Hongjoong managed to see was the way how your lights turned off and for a moment, he wondered if you maybe prayed that he did not come down to see, that the weird guy above you just opened his window to let him some refreshing air in at the end of Summer.

He was trying to recall all of those nights after you moved in, where he kept his window open and so did you. What did he hear then? There had been that clicking sound, he could hear it any time he ended up sneaking up to the roof to smoke a cigarette. He never put much thought into it but now, you always seemed to be typing on your keyboard and you were home all the time, just like he was.

When he returned from groceries, your lights were on, and when he lurked outside in the morning, the window open.

In a movie, he probably would have thought more about it and told himself to see if it would happen again. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe you were just going through a hard breakup.

Just.

Maybe, if anyone had been more gentle with Hongjoong, he'd not have felt the need to move far away in a desperate attempt of moving on.

No, things would have been different if people would have acted and wasted less time guessing.

"Screw this," he cursed and walked over to the mirror. He was trying to fix his hair but it was a mess so he grabbed a hoodie and put on some summer shorts, cigarettes shoved inside of his pockets, two bottles of soda in each hand.

If you thought he was insane after this, he could live with it, really. He preferred it above having to regret wondering what happened tonight.

Hongjoong took two stairs at once until he was in front of your windows, curtains closed and while it was dark, he could see a small gleam of light, likely from your phone. He took a deep breath before knocking again.

"Hi there, it's me. Again... Uh I am Hongjoong! I know I am probably starting to get annoying, and if you decide to not answer, please just do not call the police.... I was just thinking, maybe you want to have a soda with me? I can't slepe either, I tend to work through the night.

He rambled because this was how he found comfort, he did not need to hear specific words, just little affirmation, a gesture of love. It could be something silly.

When you did not answer, he bit his lip and looked around: "Uh, I will sit down here and smoke one cigarette. If you decide not to come when it's done, I promise I go back up. I'll leave you one bottle there."

He called, placed it down carefully, and moved over to the stairs, taking a few up before sitting down, opening his own drink before lightening the cigarette.

He was exhaling only for the first time when the window opened: "You know, smoking is super unhealthy?"

Your voice did not indicate that you were crying but he could see your eyes still being red and puffy. Hongjoong looked at you like you were amazing just like that.

"You are right, I admit, I only picked the habit up recently again."

He blinked surprised when you grabbed the bottle and sat down by his side, just to take the cigarette away and inhale the smoke. He was blushing, not having expected such a bold move after you cried.

"Guess, we can make it a bad habit just for tonight then," you breathed and used the stairs to open the bottle, drinking it more like it was a party drink rather than ordinary soda, offering the cigarette back.

Hongjoong was in awe, he did not assume you would be so outgoing, although he had no doubt you were brave considering the way you two encountered face to face for the first time. The thought let him grin a little: "Sounds good to me."

His gaze wandered back over the not-that-pretty view: "The sight from the roof is pretty amazing, not sure if you maybe want to have a look another night. I can show you how to get up there."

You laughed, relaxing back: "Why am I not surprised you went up there?"

The man looked innocently: "Well, I have a lot of time to think when I am settling for a design."

The word seemed to gain your interest and you leaned in: "You work at night and that doodle was really cute. Is it something artistic you are doing for a living?" The question was fair and straightforward, leading him to shrug just a little. Most people were disappointed about the answer, somehow it did not seem to be a popular idea when it came to art.

"I work as an illustrator for children's books or that is the preferred one, I also do magazines or commercial designs for such. As for books, I do both, the traditional ones for young kids where the images carry most of the story but I also occasionally take scenes from books for older audiences, you know, mainly those right before young adults where you find little images between the chapters? Mh, I dream to make one exactly in the design I want but for now, I am stuck to work with criteria set by the publishers."

Hongjoong learned to explain what he was doing right away because when it came to illustrations, people often thought about the really expensive artworks connected to infamous titles. You did not really seem to bother with the clichés, instead, your face was so bright and excited, that he was feeling shy.

"That's so cool? I only got into reading because of those kinds of books. I mean, I get it, you are supposed to go wild with your imagination when it comes to reading but I always preferred those pages that told me what to expect but that makes sense, I'm a number person. I like facts."

Numbers, huh.

"This is the very infamous part where I offer to you that if you ever want to see something, knock on my window any time or well, I guess. You have all the right to just walk in through my window. I am awful and my phone is my alarm clock tho," he teased with a more confident grin and you returned it gladly.

"I will keep it in mind, Hongjoong." You stretched.

"It's getting late and you wasted your cigarette, I will take that as a sign to withdraw," you smiled and picked up your bottle, standing. The artist was a little disappointed but it was fair, he knew it had been far after midnight when he heard you crying but now, he was happy to see you relaxed.

"Maybe I will come back to your offer," you hummed and walked down to your window. "Oh, by the way, I am __ and don't be too disappointed, I am a software engineer. That is also why I am home all the time, the bliss of being able to dodge offices but I feel, that you know well."

As you slipped inside, you were about to close the window before lurking out again: "The chocolate was tasty, thank you."

As the window shut, Hongjoong stood there, smiling to himself.

He didn't remember ever having felt as tense in the past when handing in drafts. His old publisher had been a guy in his early 60s and even in the early stages of Hongjoong's 'career', supporting them to test their own ideas within the limits of the work. Something about getting a poor payment but at least, being able to do their thing.

There was yet a small voice of hope, one that told him this piece of paper would not be torn apart because the woman was looking at it far longer than she had at any other of his earlier designs. After hanging out with you, Hongjoong had worked nonstop, a new adrenaline rush that helped him get done with it.

Finally, he exhaled when she leaned back, placing it on the desk: "Finally, something we can work at. I approve of the cats, I expect a more detailed version at the end of the week. The dogs are too ... basic. There is just nothing memorable about them, I want two pairs of options for them. That would be all, Mister Kim."

Hongjoong could live with that! The cats were the story's main protagonists about a pair of cat siblings moving with their owners to a new city and dealing with all of the changes. Yeah, maybe it did not seem like a deep story, just another book to offer comfort to kids moving but the name on both, the writer and label were big... opening doors. What else did he have left than his career and maybe, the nagging desire to show everyone how he could do it?

I would rather be happy tho, and loved.

He only gave her a quick nod as she seemed busy again, slipping out of the office. "Why is this such a pain...." he mumbled and checked his phone. Would it be weird or too early to ask you for your number? Hongjoong hadn't given it to anyone, well except San because he got permission to use the convenience store as a secondary address, should packages fail to be delivered to his door.

Hongjoong could not deny that he was tempted to look you up online but he did not log into any of his accounts since coming to New York. If anything... he did not even tell anyone. He just sold everything, quit his job, and moved. The only person who knew was his older brother, who had been supportive unlike the rest of the family but accepted his wish to remain hidden for some time.

"Honjgoong!"

Hearing his name out in the open made him wince and he blushed when he noticed it was you who called out for him. You were smiling, waving confidently, ignoring gazes. Maybe you really just had a tough day last night. It was so hard to imagine you being somebody who cried a lot.

"Seeing you out in the wild, I am scared," he teased with a grin, walking to your side. You pointed at the heavy bags with groceries, making him realize what you wanted.

"I see how it is, somebody asking me to make the stairs my workout," he chuckled as you looked innocently. "How about, we call it quits then, for good? And in return, you can use the fire escape as often as you want, no worries. You did start to avoid doing that because of me, didn't you?"

He was surprised by the question: "Uh... how do you know about that?"

You laughed and it was sweet, he preferred seeing you happy: "Well, when I signed the contract, the owner told me the guy above likes to take them so he advised me to put something in front of the window but then, nobody ever came."

It was your way to tell him you appreciated he tried to think of your comfort, wasn't it?

"If you are sure, I rather like walking them. I got one of those window locks, I found them on a website and they are really handy. I just prefer it because the dog from the lady on the third floor, he hates me," he admitted.

It seemed to amuse you: "Not surprised, you remind me of a cat or maybe more of a fox? Mh, I love them equally, pick the one you prefer." You rushed ahead while he took the bags, rubbing a hand over his face. Ah, it was a talent of yours, wasn't it? Making him blush.

Thankfully, it wasn't too far from the building and Hongjoong got up all the bags in no time.

"Do you want to come in?" your offer showed a hint of hesitation and Hongjoong was overworrying again. Would it be strange to accept it? Was he too keen on showing how he really would like it?

"Sure, I have some time until nightfall. I have to update some of the designs, they finally accepted two of them," he made sure not to stare, not only to be polite but he already had seen your apartment when he broke in last time.

You opened the fridge and offered him a bottle of cool water, one he gladly accepted. "You said, you do like computer things... Don't mind me, I do not know a whole lot about it. I admit, when I was here last time, I thought you might be a gamer."

His Ex used to watch Twitch streams, something about finding them relaxing.

He regretted the question the instant he asked because of how your expressions slipped.

"Ah, you could say I used to enjoy gaming? It was something I did with a ... former friend." The way you reacted hinted likely it must have been a really good friend, or why else would you look so hurt about saying such a thing` Friendships ended so often, yet this one must have meant a lot to you.

Hongjoong tried not to read too much into your expressions, he did not know you well enough to have a right of doing so, likely just misreading it.

"I am sorry to hear. My friends and family weren't always so keen on my obsession with working for book illustrations either. I would not say they meant to tell me to instead work a proper job but they thought, I should just work for some big company that needs them for ads and such but that is just so soulless, you know?"

His confession was too honest but he felt comfortable with you, sharing it. Maybe it really was because you were strangers and you did not know him or his past, you wouldn't judge him based on that.

He prayed you'd not. You seemed to think about it before saying with the kindest smile: "Following your dreams is important, Hongjoong. I get that, families always mean well but sometimes, we have to figure things out on our own."

He was too nervous to offer a good answer.

"Anyway!" the quick smile was forced but he accepted it. "You said, you know how to get up on the roof? I was thinking, we could do it tonight? It sounds silly but there will be a star shower... I do not think we can see it in a city like this but we can pretend to! I shopped for some snacks, we can make it our own little event."

Hongjoong blinked, eyes big when you invited him: "Oh! Sure! I can make some time, just knock on my window!" He did not have the time based on the deadline... but he would get it done for you! Sounded like time to fight the habit of sleeping in and work during sunlight hours for a change.

"Awesome, I'm excited then!"

There was not too much else to be said it seemed, your thoughts clearly elsewhere, and Hongjoong could only guess it was because of your friend.

The illustrator spent an hour trying to pick an outfit. Tanktop, skinny jeans, some jewelry, he even picked a barret he hadn't worn in ages but it seemed the best way to deal with his hair, even his nails were repainted before he climbed up and prepared a small cozy corner, a blanket, two pillows and a few LED candles.

By the time you knocked on his window, he was almost terrified he made it look too much like a date but then, he looked at you and it seemed, you had a similar mindset. You looked stunning, and the backpack hinted you got more than a few snacks.

"You look amazing," Hongjoong complimented, he liked your style. "Sush, you sure you aren't a model and just failed to tell me?" You brought up the cliche line but it made him laugh: "Well, I tried."

As he joined you, he led you up the stairs which ended abruptly. "If you pull here, there is actually a hidden ladder," he explained and showed it to you. "Very handy, and you can simply pull it up from up there so nobody sees it."

You seemed amazed just how simple it was and carefully climbed up first.

"Oh Hongjoong, this is so pretty!" you gasped, looking at his little setup. The sun vanished just a little while ago and the candles created a nice atmosphere.

"Well, how often does one get invited to star gazing at my age? I thought it would be nice," he explained, chewing his lip as he helped you take off the backpack.

"Well, I guess it is good then I brought an entire picnic!" Indeed, you did but it wasn't just snacks, you prepared the meal obviously yourself and it made him wonder. Did anyone other than his mother ever do this for him?

"This looks delicious!" he clapped his hands together, looking over it.

"Mh, I cannot promise the taste can live up to the looks because it has been a while since I made most of these dishes," you admitted and offered him a pair of chopsticks but he shook his head: "It already smells great, and nothing can betray that."

You seemed to enjoy how expressive Hongjoong was in showing just how much he loved your cooking. His face did not manage to hide it but it was to no surprise, not only because it was tasty but because he had been living off ramyun for the past couple of months due to his cut salary.

"This is so good, I will vote for you as home cook of the year," he mumbled between trying to chew and swallowing.

"Hongjoong, are you sure you ate in the past month or two? You are eating like you were about to starve," you smiled but there was a little concern in your voice as you ate slowly.

The artist carefully placed his chopsticks aside, contemplating if it was okay to be so honest but since he already shared quite a bit with you, it seemed fair.

"To be honest, I came here a little unplanned. I got this really amazing deal or it sounded like that but the publisher CEO lady has rejected all of my designs of the past few months and they cut my salary in half every time. I get around with some savings but food wasn't on top of my priority list."

Now you did seem concerned and sighed: "You know what? She is stupid! I looked up your work and it's so cute? I mean it! I know nothing about that business branch but I like it, they are cute and as a kid, I'd have loved them but also... I used to share a place with somebody and I have a hard time getting rid of the habit of cooking more than I need. How about you come over here and then, and pick up the rest? I hate to throw away so much."

Did you look him up? Oh, that was unexpected. Hongjoong was just looking at you in awe and you seemed a little confused by it.

"You do not have to, of course!" It seemed you both were good at misreading.

He hurried to wave his hands: "Oh no! I'd love that! I just... was a little shy when you looked it up. I appreciate it. If you ever need a doodle or like ... anything drawn, let me know. I like doing it for people."

As he looked at you somehow, it felt like you two were the same. Something happened which brought you here, leaving behind a very different life but now that you sat in front of him like that, Hongjoong was so grateful and he tried to place the meaning of his heart beating just a little too enthusiastically right now.

"You know, when I was in high school, I was befriended with this really amazing guy, Hwa. He moved away with his parents before graduation but after exams, when we both knew we screwed up really badly. He would drag me up to the rooftop of our school and play silly songs from the early 2000s we danced to. I know that sounds insane but how about... we do that?"

Hongjoong didn't think about Seonghwa in a long time. He tried to find him online a few years ago but it seemed the older did not think too much about social media either.

"You want to dance?" you chuckled and checked your phone: "Well, I'd say we have another hour until the promised star shower so let's do it. You will have to provide the music tho, I forgot to close my Spotify on my computer."

Hongjoong grinned: "No worries, I got us."

It was funny but he remembered the song and there was an entire playlist dedicated to the vibe he wanted to go for. Relaxed and soft, a little silly but not embarrassing. He ensured the volume wouldn't cause too much attention but you did not seem to care at all.

When the melody and the lyrics began you just let go. Hongjoong swallowed as he watched you and for the first time in a long time, suddenly he was feeling... excited? It was different from a grand job offer or moving, it was more like that telling himself life would go on actually was real. That good things still would happen if he just kept on going.

"What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you are getting shy now," you moved closer to him, taking his hands without hesitation before starting to dance together. The shuffle was doing a good job because it went from energetic, leading to the two of you just silly jumping and vibing to something a little slower and before he knew it, his arms were curled around your figure and you rested your head against his shoulder as you moved with the music.

"This is nice," you whispered, your gaze seemed to be far off in the distance. "I forgot how nice it can be just like that." You sighed deeply without saying anything else but Hongjoong quietly agreed as his hug tightened a little. "It really is."

It was only when your phone started to ring and you withdrew that he was a little disappointed. "Okay, time for the stars!" you smiled, looking around before glancing back at the blanket. "Let's do it like we are in the countryside!"

Without hesitation, you grabbed a pillow and laid down, looking up to the sky which was just dark, the light of electricity stealing the beauty of the night. Hongjoong laid down next to you, looking up.

"Isn't this the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen?" you gasped, pointing towards nothing: "There they are! Okay, time to make your wish but remember, you can't tell anyone!"

You were so bright and outgoing, Hongjoong envied you but also quietly was thankful how you tickled this out of him again. Even before his breakup, he had been so busy struggling with work and expectations, when did he act so carefree for the last time?

"Working on the wish," he whispered and closed his eyes.

His wish for life never changed: be happy, together with people who truly loved and cherished him and he'd do the same for them.

He winced when he felt your cool hand reaching out, squeezing him and his head turned around, the beret slipped from his hair as your gazes locked. There was another moment of hesitation but you rolled onto your side, your eyes saying what words did not manage but they did not need to as you slowly closed them. Hongjoong's hand was placed on your cheek and you met in the middle into a tender kiss.

It was nothing breathtaking like in the movies, much more a kiss between students who never kissed before but yet, were so lost in the moment that they didn't worry. It only lasted for a little before your lips parted: "Guess, my wish already came true just now."

Hongjoong blushed, he wanted to say more but there was a small quacking sound. The two of you sat up immediately.

"Did you hear that?" you whispered. Hongjoong nodded: "Nobody ever comes up here and I come here almost every day since I moved in." You exchanged a few gazes before carefully standing up, following him closely, hiding behind the chimney.

Suddenly, a large figure dressed all in black jumped up like a ninja in a movie. You gasped but Hongjoong just blinked.

"Wooyoung?!"

"Wooyoung?"

"Wooyoung!"

San's figure showed up right behind his best friend, who was tugging on his jacket, clearly catching his breath. "I told you not to do this!" The younger man was just grinning: "But I had to make sure I left an impression!"

You chuckled as Hongjoong pointed to you that it was okay.

"I take it those are your friends?"

The word made Hongjoong blink. He saw these two idiots almost on a daily base now, he talked to them and while he never shared any personal details, they never treated him like other customers or a stranger.

He really did a great job on distancing, didn't he? Considering he claimed to have nobody but just made friends without realizing it.

"Something like that," Hongjoong said with a quick smile but Wooyoung already pulled him closer, pressing his cheek against his. "Sh, he is just shy! We are the best buddies!"

Hongjoong yelped and now was sparring with Wooyoung while San rubbed a hand over the back of his neck: "Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt your date. Wooyoung has a hard time keeping his curiosity in check."

You hummed, knowing Hongjoong didn't hear it. Maybe it was for the better.

"That's okay. Actually, that's what I like about him. He's chaotic, just like me."

You clasped your hands together, cheering. "So Wooyoung! We got some food left, are you hungry?"

The younger stopped, grinning: "Always!"

Hongjoong groaned when he was woken up by loud noises coming from the staircase. He rolled onto his side, face lit up by his phone screen. It wasn't even seven but for some reason, it seemed neighbors decided to make a fuss. There was screaming, he was sure about that.

He grabbed a pair of sneakers, not caring too much about all else and decided to have a look because it seemed a little too loud considering you and an elderly woman lived the floor underneath.

The moment he recognized your voice, Hongjoong stopped all logical thinking, he took two stairs at once to face a very upstyled woman around his age. Expensive brands and overdone makeup, there was an envelope open, torn paper on the ground, and you were all in tears.

"What's going on?!" Hongjoong rushed to your side but you barely seemed to recognize him.

"How did you even find out where I live?! I won't sign this just go!" you yelled and it seemed to make the woman just more angry.

"___, stop being so stubborn! Just sign the damn rights! You are not part of the team anymore, you have no use for the brand name! Just sign it and we never have to meet again!"

By now, more neighbors had come and the least Hongjoong wanted for you was to deal with the police.

"Hey, get in. I will take care of it," he whispered to you, both of his hands on your cheeks to force you to look at him through teary eyes. It was when you finally realized you weren't alone, you swallowed hard, nodded but carefully withdrew. When the woman tried to get in, Hongjoong pushed her back.

"If you do not leave now, we will call the police! If you have any needs, use a lawyer!" he remembered how his mother watched those shows when he was little, they always just yelled about lawyers.

"Who are you? Loverboy? God, how can one person fall so low? Living in this shithole and now this?" she hissed, spitting on the ground before leaving. Hongjoong waited to ensure she'd not get back up before he slipped inside, closing your door.

You had curled up on your bed and he was a little overwhelmed but it did not matter. Hongjoong called out your name gently as he sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, maybe his way of asking for permission.

When you did not move, he curled his arms around you to pull you tight like back on the rooftop, hand gently patting over your back. He wasn't going to tell you it would be okay or ask you to stop crying because he knew that sometimes, mind or body did not want to, couldn't.

All one needed sometimes, was a hug and somebody there with you.

It was hard to say just how much time passed when you turned around slowly. Hongjoong loosened the hug a little without moving back and you looked at him.

"You do not have to tell me anything," he assured in his soft voice but you shook your head slowly. "I want to... it just... it's embarrassing."

This time, it was he who shook his head: "Nothing that makes you feel sad ever is embarrassing, ___. Your feelings matter, you know?"

He was relieved to see it brought a little smile to your lips.

"You know, that also is true for you. If you are sad... it's okay. I understand it. Please don't feel like you have to hide it."

So you did look right through him after all: "You got me there... It is hard to admit weakness... I guess, for me at least. I was hurt by the people I cared for the most. Now, it is hard, like how to let them in again, how to trust?"

Your fingers gently reached out, brushing over his cheeks and he held still like if he moved, you might vanish into thin air.

"I get that," you admitted. "You see, that woman used to be my best friend since middle school. A few years ago, we started to stream together for fun. I made good money with my job, so I bought the equipment and I really was okay playing more of a background role. We worked on it together but she was the star, I didn't mind she also streamed a lot without me but then, numbers rose and there was a sponsorship she did not tell me about. One day, I got home from my office, and all the equipment was gone, together with my best friend. I was locked out of the accounts, the savings I kept at home for emergencies were stolen, and well. She spread some nasty rumors about how I was jealous and things got ugly... So I moved here. It is hard, your best friend is usually the person you rely on for comfort when something awful happens but now, there was nobody and I am stupid, the type of person that fully believes in a friendship."

It was sad, to think how money always ruined everything, love and friendship. Hongjoong watched you as you spoke, going more into the details and he made sure to listen well, to show you that he didn't only do it because you two kissed or because of you crying. He really cared about you and wanted to understand you better so he did not have to fear again, that imagine of you alone on the fire escape.

"There is nothing awkward or embarrassing about your feelings. You trusted and lost her. You tried your best to start over, leave it behind but she cannot let it be for selfish reasons," Hongjoong concluded and you finally relaxed.

"Thank you for listening.... that really helped," you whispered. "I... if you ever want to..."

Hongjoong wondered for a moment. Did he want to talk about it?

Yes, but...

"Honestly, I am not sure if I am really ready yet to talk about it but one day... I will," he promised and placed a gentle kiss on top of your head.

"How about I make you some tea?" he offered with a smile as you looked at him, you nodded and you two slowly sat up. Hongjoong was very determined to wrap you properly in a blanket burrito, ruffling your hair gently before moving over to your kitchen. He could feel your eyes on him as he moved but he did not mind it.

A few minutes later, he handed you a cup of yasmin tea and you hugged it carefully, sipping on it.

"You make a very cute blanket cat," he teased, hoping to cheer you up. "Maybe one day, you will let me draw you like that." And finally, there it was, your beautiful laugh. "I will think about it."

Hongjoong sat down by your side, he turned on the TV and you relaxed against him as you watched a random show just to get your mind off and sipped your tea. It wasn't until there was a more gentle knock on the door and the familiar voice of the elderly lady.

"I will get it," he offered and rushed over. She seemed a little concerned: "My, so much noise in the early morning. Such an unpleasant woman. I wanted to see if everything is alright but I also noted, that your door is wide open Mister Kim."

His cheeks flushed as he realized, he rushed out earlier without bringing his key or closing it. "OH! Yes, thank you so much," he bowed and it made her chuckle: "You are very welcome. Fear not, Mister Corner on the second floor left his dog outside, I have no doubt nobody will dare to make the way upstairs today."

As she wiggled away, Hongjoong turned around but you smiled. "It is okay, I am feeling better. Thank you for looking out for me. I will see you later?"

He did not want to go but it likely was a good idea to give you some space. "Count on it."

As much as he hated it, he needed to put some time into work if he intended to finish everything within the deadline but now that Hongjoong had a reason to work extra hard, he was doing it no problem and within a few hours, he finished a few sketches. Those would do for angry CEO and he could dedicate his evening toward you.

He was taking his phone from his charger when he noticed a small notification. Hongjoong turned off such with the exception of receiving one when somebody new followed him. To his surprise, the name of his latest follower was 'Hwastar' and there was only one person who would use something like that.

It took him a few minutes to remember his password, he ignored all other messages other than the one of the follow and he followed back. Within a few minutes, a message popped up. It really was Seonghwa and to Hongjoong's surprise, the man was in New York, asking to meet.

When Hongjoong knocked on your door and you did not answer, he guessed you were asleep and he decided to go for it. Seonghwa had picked a cute coffee shop, something that suited him. While he looked the same, he was yet a whole new man. Tall, well-built and stylish, the long hair suited him well but the smile was as gentle as when they saw each other for the last time. "Joong! It's been too long!"

There was a quick hug before they sat down, he was sipping on a drink. "You look good, Joongie!" Hongjoong glanced down, he barely could say he wore anything unique but then, he just really had gotten used to his style. "Not like you who seems to go to fashion week."

Seonghwa blushed a little before waving his hand: "Nah, I work for a small publisher." Hongjoong wasn't surprised to hear it. Seonghwa always loved to read and was great with all kinds of people "That's great! I am glad it worked out for you."

His old friend smiled before to the younger's surprise, he pulled out one of the children's books Hongjoong worked on as part of a team.

"I only recently moved to New York because we moved our office here. When I walked through some bookstores, I came across this one. I am glad to see you still do art... When I went home last time, my mom said you left and nobody really knew where you went."

So he did hear about it, huh?

"Breakups can be ugly, I guess I wanted to start over." Hongjoong finally said what he had not to anyone until now. It was hard to say it out loud because that way, there was no chance to deny it, to hide the truth about the why, and how it had come to this. Maybe because there was this old trust he had for Hwa that made him say it out loud now but it was impossible to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Seonghwa had an understanding, sad smile on his lips: "I know you loved her. You two already dated back then... but Hongjoong... I am also proud you are moving on, and didn't stop."

It really was difficult to let negative emotions take over when Seonghwa looked at him like that. He pulled out his business card: "I know you are currently working with a bigger name but we actually finally expanded to books that require some illustrations and my boss would love to meet you. Why don't you think about it? The offer is there, no expiration, whenever you want."

Hongjoong accepted it with surprise, looking at the cursive font he was sure was inspired by his friend's handwriting.

How did things finally fall in line? Was it because he was ready to let them?

Hongjoong looked up and smiled: "I will definitely call."

When he came back, it had gotten dark. As Hongjoong took the fire escape up, your window was wide open and you sat on the stairs, the wind playing with your hair and you seemed lost in thoughts but the moment you saw him, the way you smiled, he knew.

His heart finally exhaled, it held its breath for so long, scared of what would happen if it let go of all that was and no longer would be.

Now it knew it was okay. Breathing would hurt for a little while but eventually, the beat would fall back in line as it should. Painful memories remained but it would keep beating.

The wisdom wasn't wrong, life went on.

Hongjoong smiled back as you made space for him and he got comfortable, his gaze wandering over the cityscape of New York or the bit you managed to get from here.

"it really is ugly, isn't it? I mean, all we get to see are the lower side of those giant ass buildings;" you joked and he laughed, shaking his head: "No, we do not but we have the rooftop. Not that I mind this."

He closed his eyes: "It really is a great escape, I would say, we need those stairs everywhere in the world."

You hummed: "I agree. Just that we need little stickers on the windows, one that tells us that if the alarm won't go off and the windows open, just throw a shoe or something."

Hongjoong smiled innocently at you: "But how do I get my shoe back then?"

You grinned: "Well, by knocking, of course. Then, I have an excuse to invite you in."

You did not need an excuse, he gladly would come and visit you. As you looked at each other, a certain silence spread, and Hongjoong played with one of his bracelets.

"I got my heart broken very badly," he admitted. "I guess, I was blind? Maybe I just was so in a habit of having it that way, that I did not think it could change? It hurt a lot and I ran like a coward but now, maybe this is just how I am. Sometimes, I do stupid things that turn out to be good but I am also blind like needing forever to realize how I made friends just by being myself or that I can feel again."

As he looked at you, turning around, you suddenly hugged him tightly. "It is okay, you do not have to tell me everything, ever or just take your time. I will be here, whenever you are ready," you whispered and Hongjoong was surprised.

Argh, he hated how tears started to dwell up at the corners of his eyes. This was all he wanted for so long but now, here you were and you were so much more than comfort, the promise of a future where his heart was beating not only to live but love. Again.

"I really like you," he admitted, voice soft and husky. "I like you too," you repeated and for a moment, you just held each other.

Hongjoong looked at you before he swallowed: "I'd like to see where it goes... but I might... need a bit of time before I am ready to go all ..."

You placed an index finger on his lips and smiled: "It's okay. We have all the time in the world. Summer is not over yet, many nights on the rooftops. Then, when autumn comes, we go chase leaves in Central Park, and in Winter, we can wear big fluffy coats and share a scarf. Then Spring, we plant flowers on the rooftop, and when Summer comes again. We will be here, together. Close or as friends, I will be here, count on it."

You really were so dreamy, it made sense now why your room looked the way it did.

And he loved how you were bold and silly and this.

"I cannot promise not to be spontaneous, and I might would like us to be more than friends," he admitted and you smirked: "I love random and wild."

You squeezed his hand and Hongjoong was looking forward to all seasons. In this lonely city full of people but now he had friends, old and new but most of all, you.

As you leaned in to kiss him, your alarm was going off. Hongjoong groaned but you tugged on his jacket.

"Sh, you can throw shampoo at it later," you promised and Hongjoong laughed.

"This alarm, it drives me insane," he whispered, your lips so close.

"So do you."

In the best way possible.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You don’t mind working evenings during the week. In the hour before closing time, it’s pretty slow. There isn’t much for you to do much follow the tune of the instrumental jazz and lean on the counter behind your till. Management is hidden in the back office so you don’t even need to pretend to work.

So it is that you’re startled at the unexpected figure strutting around the table of stationary and novelties across from the checkout. You stand straight as you smile at the man, not letting it falter as you recognise him. You brace yourself and swallow as your mouth runs dry. He’s been here almost every day this week; at least, when you’ve been in.

“Oh, uh,” you don’t notice anything in his hands aside from his cell phone, “Mr. Pine isn’t here, sir. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t reply until he’s at the counter. His blue eyes bore into you as he rests his hand against the edge, gripping his phone tight. A small furrow scrunches between his brows.

“I didn’t ask,” he smiles.

“Well, er, sorry, I thought…” you chew your lip nervously. Each time he’s been in, he’s asked for the store owner. You assume he knows him. And he’s of the demographic who likes to make a fuss when he doesn’t get what he wants. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he agrees, still grinning.

You squirm and run your fingertips over the keyboard. “Well, is there anything I can help you find? We’re closing up soon–”

“You’re trying to get me to leave?” He challenges.

“Not at all,” you croak. “Sorry, sir.”

“Andy,” he pulls his hand away, instead crossing his arms and leaning his elbows on the counter. He reads your name tag, “it’s fine. I was just looking around. Figure a book might help keep me busy.” 

He has a very intense way of watching you. Very on the point. He speaks directly to you, but you’re more the type to focus above someone or past them.

“Do you have a favourite genre?” You prompt. It’s easiest to talk about work and you have a dozen suggestions.

“Not really. You know, I work a lot and I never really had a chance to read much outside of deposition records,” he shrugs and raises his eyebrows, “don’t make my mistakes. Don’t waste your life working overtime. Enjoy the small things. Like books, you’re never gonna find a fairytale in real life.”

You feel a bit bad for him but try not to show it. You don’t want to insult it and he seems to pendulum between amiable and unapproachable. You nod and put on your customer service smile.

“Oh, thanks, I guess you’re probably right,” you eke out, “do you like thrillers? They’re pretty popular and we’re having a special.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s somewhere to start,” he rubs his beard, the hand clutching his phone against the counter as he leans on the same elbow, “what do you read?”

You give your usual answer, vague and not entirely false, “fantasy, mostly.”

“Like The Hobbit or whatever?” He wonders.

“Sure, I’ve read that,” you say.

“My wife– ex, now, she was a Tolkien fan,” his lips slant, “twenty years, no kids. Got nothing to show for it.” He pushes himself straight, “I’m sorry, you caught me on a bad night. I, whatever you suggest, I’ll take it. I need something to get my mind off of… everything.”

“Oh, sure, well, we have our best sellers down here,” you point over the counter and the racks between each till, “Conrad’s always a good choice.”

He hums and backs up. He peruses the books silently as you twiddle your fingers impatiently. You’ve had awkward encounters with customers before, almost daily, but something about him is a bit too cringe for you. You hate to even think like that. You feel mean. He’s just going through some things. And who isn't?

He plucks up a book and comes back to your till. He lays it down and slides his phone into his pants pocket, then reaches under his jacket. He takes out his wallet and pauses as he unfolds it, “wait, do you get commission? I could grab a few more.”

“Um, no,” you login and scan the barcode on the book, “but there’s a survey on you receipt. If you fill that out, I get credit for that.”

“Oh, sure, a survey,” he agrees as he slides out a card.

“And did you have our rewards card?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “what’s that?”

Great. You peek at the time in the corner of the till screen. It’s getting close to closing.

“So, for purchases you collect points. Kinda like air miles. When you buy items that are part of a promotion, you receive double, and for prestige members, there are triple point days. You can collect points to earn store credit.”

He nods and considers it. He tilts his head as his cheek dimples, “so, that costs money?”

“Yes, twenty-five dollars for paperback level and forty for prestige.”

He weighs the options. You expect the amounts to deter him like most customers. He taps his card on the counter, “you know what, I’ll do the forty. I’m looking to get into reading so I’ll be back for sure.”

“Oh, uh, right, okay,” you say with surprise, “I’ll just get you registered.”

You reach past the till and grab one of the cards displayed behind it. You scan it and go through the whole routine; name, phone number, email. You get all his info in and offer him a bag before you turn the debit machine towards him. He taps his card and the approval chirps loudly.

“Great, so, if you wanna do the survey,” you say as his receipt prints out, “you can scan this QR code and it will direct you straight to the survey.” You tear off the receipt and circle at the bottom, “my employee number is here, you’ll have to enter that and the transaction ID.”

You fold the receipt and hand it over. He takes it and looks it over with a squint. He raises his chin and gives a half-smile, “um, this QR thing? How do I… I’m sorry, I’m a bit slow. Could you show me?”

You want to say no. You want to point to the clock and tell him to have a good day but he’s actually going to do the survey. You need a good review.

“Sure, um, I’ll show you. Just on your phone,” you step closer as he digs his hand in his pants pocket, “let me see the receipt.”

“Thank you so much,” he says, “you’re so patient with me.”

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

Yandere! Serial killer x reader pt 2

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Mentions of stalking. Part 1 is here part 3 is here. Read the note at the end plz, ty!

You’re joking.

Your Uber was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way you're taking the bus this late and staying here is already out of the question. You’re most definitely not spending another twenty dollars on another shammy lift either. As you contemplate your predicament, you can hear the aggressive typing of a phone's keyboard as Malika writes a strongly worded review.

“Dammit! What the hell’re we supposed to do now? There’s absolutely no way I’m staying here,” you’re all out of options, maybe the best thing is just to wait here until your school bus comes back.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not-“ you cut her off before she can finish. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? You guys aren’t willing to take any of the other options presented so, all you can do is sit and wait. Look on the bright side, you’ve waited almost a full year to be here; no guy should ruin it for you. She thinks long and hard about it before lighting up again.

“You know what, fine. But if we stay you’re entering that competition and you’re gonna win,”

So here you are now. Scrambling around like a headless chicken with a stray killer on the loose. Let’s take it back some shall we?

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our animal Freak do Sheek costume competition! Our contestants have worked all year round perfecting there costumes in order to win our $800 dollar cash prize. Here’s how it works, you’ll-,”

You tune out the announcer in favor of the sound of your beating heart. You’ve never been this nervous before! You’ve done this hundreds of times and always came up on top, so why? I’ll tell you why; that same egotistical show off of an axe murder is entering the competition too.

He stands there staring at you silent and unmoving. The only thing that’s different about him is that the paper mache mask from earlier had been replaced with the face of the person who bumped into you. Man, he really thought all of this out didn’t he? You’re brought back to earth by the opening of the curtain revealing you and the rest of the contestants. The crowd cheers in excitement and this alone reminds you as to why you’re here. Malika as well as the rest of your class sit in the audience cheering you on. Hm? Your teachers not here. Whatever, it’s probably the only night he could legally get drunk at school and not have to deal with the repercussions. After the modeling is over you all recoup on stage and watch as the audience places their votes in the ballot box. Squirming in anticipation and nervous sweat beading down your forehead, you anxiously await the answer.

“The results are in! The winner is, drum roll please…” your breath stops and you can’t contain your jitters.

“Mr Axe Murder!” of course! Malika and your classmates give you a sadden smile but you don’t return it. In fact, you give them the brightest one yet. All these years you’ve been waiting for someone to match your talent, sick and tired of always expecting the best and reaching it. You needed a challenge, a thrill; and he gave it to you. Standing next to him on the podium you smile up at him. Sure he was an asshole before, but he deserved it. Looking at the camera as the three first place winners are to take a picture, he swings his axe up, presumably in a posing manner. How wrong were you? Just after the flash he brings his weapon down and with one clean swipe, lops off the head of the rando in third place.

You freeze in shock. This has to be some kinda gag, a prank or something. Everyone else screams and flees as he turns over to the announcer and gives him the same fate as your fellow contestant. The others dash off the stage and he walks towards you, reaching out to grab you. Before he can, Malika jumps on stage and drags you away faster than ever. All you see from behind your shoulder is the struggle of the security guards to hold down his hulking frame.

“What in the absolute fuck was that!” How the hell are you supposed to know!? Next thing you know you just got back into the fun of the night when an undercover serial killer decapitates someone right in front of you.

“Wait… didn’t you say that you saw that same guy hacking into someone else?” …oh. my. god. How could you be so stupid? I mean all the signs were in front of you and you ignored it! He has their face on his for crying out loud! Wait a minute. Face? You turn to Malika and the realization hits you both. Just as you're about to speak, siren blairs throughout the festival.

“Attention! The killer known as the “Mask Maker” has made his way into the festival and has incited a rampage. It is recommended that everyone stays calm and evacuate the premises immediately. I repeat, a killer is on the loose!”

Fuck! You should’ve taken the bus! There’s nothing you can do as you rush towards the exit of the building. Pushing your way past the hoards of people trying to escape this hell house. It’s too late though. The crazed lunatic has already scoped out the area and has started slashing anyone he can get to. He makes eye contact with you and suddenly stops his pursuit of the other patrons. Sprinting his way towards you. This time, it’s your turn to grab Malika and run as fast as you can, running into the first fun house you see.

Making your way inside, you duck and cover into the darkness as you hear the door shut and lock behind you. Venturing deeper into the funhouse into a mock corn field. Malika lets out a shriek as she turns your head and there you see it. There you find the mangled body of your teacher forced into the outfit of a discarded scarecrow, face missing. While surprising, she just alerted him to where your location was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but what the fuck is going on,” she cried out. You’re trapped, a killer is targeting you and you don’t know why and all of your colleagues are dead. How are you gonna escape this!?

Split up? Bait him out? Call for help?

“That’s all some white people shit,” in times of need you can always count on her abrasiveness to lighten the mood. You let out a slight giggle, maybe at her brashness or maybe out of anxiousness, you couldn’t tell the difference. Just then the door clicks open and the lights flicker on. You duck further down into the fake stocks of corn and stay as silent as possible. You watch as he makes his way into the next room, but as you sprint up in the opposite direction I hand grabs at Malika's hair. He attempts to slash at her arm but only manages to make a very minimal cut after you picked up a stray rake and bashed him over the head with it. You scoot past him and run out of the maze and back into Main Street, him right on you heels.

Just in the nick of time, you two are able to make it out of the festival when the gates closed. He banged and swung at the gates but you two weren’t sticking around to see if he’d break through. Running between the parking lots looking for anyone or anything you can use to get the hell out of here. Just then your phone dings with a notification. It says you Ubers right in front of you . You whip your head around in delight only for the smile on your face to drop. Your Uber arrived a while ago,you were the ones that were late. He’s hanging out of the crashed car, blood dripping everywhere and face gone. Also leaned up against the car is Gill and the harlot he decided to give your friend up for; or what’s left of them. In the corner of your eye you can see the tiniest grin spread across your friend's face. You decide not to question it as you have more important things to do. You two agreed that your best option was to make a mad dash to the bust stop where at least one person would notice you.

Making it there you both pull out your phones and with the remaining power they have left, call the police and notify them about where you abouts. The roads are empty and it looks like a ghost town. Overwhelmed with everything you break down in the middle of the ghost town. At this point you’ve accepted your fate and thought there was no point in fighting.

“Malika, I just wanted you to know that after whatever happens tonight, I love you,” you look up at her with tears in your eyes and a sad smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she stares at you, silent. Her own tears forming and sliding down her cheeks as she drops to her knees and hugs you close. You two lay there sobbing for a good while before she pulls away and shouts.

“I can’t do this anymore!” huh?

“I- I’m sorry, (Y/N) I don’t know what came over me! I’ve always been so jealous of you when I had no right to be. I wasn’t thinking straight. I'm so, so sorry! This is all my fault,” what? What is she talking about?

“Woah, woah; what’re you talking about?”

“All of this! I knew he was coming. I-… I knew he’d be after you,” you stare at her confused before giving a short giggle, but this isn’t time for jokes.

“It’s him (Y/N),” she can’t be serious right now.

“I am. I knew all along; that’s why I dragged you here. That’s why I wanted you to go to that school. That’s why I wanted- I wanted this to happen,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?” That’s how all of this started. By being nice. By being a decent human being. You don’t remember much about the school; you choose not to. You barely made it through the first semester there. All because of him. Keegan Krane. A man of the arts just like yourself, though, he focused his talents on something more traditional. Wherever he went there was at least a pencil and some acrylics tucked neatly in that tote bag he carried around. He was amazing at what he did! Best of his class, featured in shows all around the area, the whole nine yards. So, it’s reasonable for you to question why he decided to come here when he could be at the top.

“I don’t need to be at the top,” he’d tell you. Eyes locked on yours, his intense wavering in his intense gaze.

“Besides, if I would’ve never met you, I don’t know what I’d do,” ever the charmer he was. Until he wasn’t. You see, Keegan wasn’t who you thought he was. At first he was just some random guy who went to your school. Then he was some random guy who you shared almost all your classes with. Then he was the guy who sat next to you in most of them. He slowly turned into your acquaintance, then your friend, best friend, then your boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

You’ve always thought he was smart. He knew almost every painting by their name to the artist to what materials they used. He loved literature and poems and would often write them in his free time. He could cook better than anyone you’ve ever known and was exactly your type. He was perfect; maybe just a little too much.

You remember the exact day when the notes started showing up, right before college in senior year. You always wondered where and who they’d come from but anytime you’d ask, you’d never get a sufficient answer. Malika said to enjoy all the attention from your secret admirer but you couldn’t help to be creeped out. They knew what candies you liked, gave you little figurines from your favorite shows and even knew what route you took home.

Over time the notes became increasingly disturbing and the feeling of eyes on your back lingered throughout the day; no matter if you were in school or not. After the discovery of a mutilated carcass of what you assumed was a dead rat with a birds face, you went to the police. Fuck going the principal, all he would ever say was “we’ll check the cameras,” and “kids these days are always to shy to confess,”. Yea right, that was a confession enough, one of a future psychopath.

The notes turned into drawings, drawings turned into pictures, pictures turned into the mangled faces of unfortunate creatures, those turned into breaking and entering; stealing panties, used toothbrushes, the hair from your hairbrush, and that turned into a criminal case. Everything stopped after you went to the police, they most likely knew and were too afraid they’d get caught. Oh how wrong you were. Because that same person followed you to where you were now.

…………………………………………………………………....................

Just after, the man of the hour makes his way from out of the bushes, axe in hand and dragging the dead body of an officer.

“It’s him, (Y/N),” he removes his mask to reveal the face you seen in your darkest dreams.

“It’s Keegan,”

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of this. Ik the plot twist is a little confusing but it’ll all make sense in the third installment, trust. It may come out on Halloween it might not, I’m tryin 😭. I wasn’t confident in this but like I said it’ll all come together later. My Ao3 has been created and imma work on moving my posts there too. This was a little long so if you’re still here ty! Bye guys ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

-Love, Sosa ❤️

[linghxr]

How I'm learning bopomofo (zhuyin fuhao)

Why am I learning bopomofo?

Maybe around a year ago, I had a dream in which I was in a library/bookstore in Taiwan. I was trying to search their catalog to see if they had a book I wanted in stock. The only option was a bopomofo touchscreen keyboard, and I became quite distressed because I was unable to type anything. This dream inspired me to learn bopomofo, AKA zhuyin fuhao.

Why should you learn bopomofo?

Frankly, the consensus I've seen on blogs and language forums is that you don't need to learn bopomofo/zhuyin fuhao. But I wanted to share my thoughts on what there is to gain from learning it. Consider learning bopomofo if...

You find pinyin unintuitive or are looking for another input method for typing. I learned pinyin very young, so it's second nature for me. But for some learners, it's difficult and may distract them from reading characters. Bopomofo offers an alternative.

You're really interested in Taiwanese culture and want to deepen your understanding of it. My Taiwanese American friend tells me that you can find bopomofo in materials like children's books. I've also seen it used online, such as in it memes by Taiwanese netizens.

You're a total language nerd and think it would be fun. It's been a fun challenge to learn something completely new to me after so many years of learning Chinese. It's forced me to reexamine the language and how pinyin works too!

How I'm learning bopomofo

My method is nothing fancy. First, I wrote down all the symbols my notebook and practiced converting syllables from pinyin to zhuyin fuhao. After that, I added the zhuyin keyboard to my phone and switched to practicing via typing.

As you may or may not know, I'm kind of obsessed with chengyu and try to learn a new one each day. So I practice typing with zhuyin fuhao daily by typing out my new chengyu of the day.

*Technically you are supposed to type the tone marks too, but I'm lazy and usually don't do that. **Like with the pinyin keyboard, you can also input text by just typing the initials.

The downside of my method is that I fear I'm memorizing positions on the keyboard instead of the actual symbols. If you as me to read something written in zhuyin, I would need some time to decipher it. But I actually tried learning zhuyin previously using flashcards, and it didn't stick at all. So this typing method, while flawed, has worked for me because I've been able to practice consistently—a little bit every day!

I don't think I can write zhuyin out by hand, but I don't have to worry about my bad dream coming true anymore!

[syoul]

FAN CONTENT : 　 no. 1 junnipurr ! on youtube.

[ INTRO ] 　 today is february 13th, which means it’s our favourite pocket sized lyricist and producer’s birthday! to celebrate, i’ve decided to compile a few moments of kj that live in my head rent free 🫶🫶 this can be seen a continuation to my “my viewers’ favourite kj moments” vid! 

[ ROBOTIC VOICE OVER ] 　 i really just wanted to talk more about kj’s talents as a writer and producer. like, i get why oliver said he’d want to perform a lobotomy on kj. i do too tbh.

exhibit a: our beginning. the group’s debut album was worked on by all the members but kj wrote and composed basically all of our beginning by himself and it fucking wrecks me everytime like???? AND IT'S ONLY A B-SIDE???? oh to be loved by this man… their two title songs already had me interested but from the moment i heard that song i just had to stan. 

exhibit b: his skills have been recognized not only by bang chan, but woozi of svt as well and even other senior producers in the industry. his knowledge and ear for music can only be described as unrivaled in the industry. i mean, we’re talking about someone who ENJOYS music theory and does it for fun. no sane person does that. 

but anyways, enough of my rambles. enjoy!

　　 SEOJUN’S SOLO LATE-NIGHT VLIVE. 

[ CONTEXT ] 　 a fellow yu challenged seojun to make a song using only the word “taco”, which he took seriously. 

seojun eyes flick across his computer screen set up behind the camera, mouse clicks and the occasional typing on his keyboard filling the room. brows furrowed, he stretches his arms above his head and sighs at the way his back pops.  

“aish yunies,” he says, a teasing but also annoyed tone in his voice. he runs his tongue over his teeth and sucks in a breath.  [ he’s so hot when frustrated. sue me. ]  “i’m not too sure about this one.” 

“this part here works—” he makes a click on the mouse and the start of a song starts to play. “—but i can’t get the rest to line up nicely.”  

he turns in his chair, moving closer to face the camera, and shakes his head. adjusting the baseball cap on his head, seojun opens his phone and scrolls through the comments. 

“‘the great seojun has finally been defeated’ yah! i haven’t given up yet.”

he scratches his neck and leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling and letting out a deep sigh.  [ this isn’t a png, guys. my man was tired 😭 ]  he stares at his phone again. 

“do you guys think kai-yah will answer me if i call him?” he stands up out of his chair and paces around the room to stretch his legs before squatting down to look into the camera, holding his phone up to show the time. “it’s three am right now but i bet he’s still up.”  [ boy 🤨 ] 

seojun sits back down and scrolls before ringing up kj with the phone on speaker. after the third ring, the man of the hour picks up. 

“hello?” kj says quietly, audibly tired.  [ his voice is so 😓 you don’t understand ] 

“kaiyangi~” seojun coos sweetly into the phone, “i’m live right now.” 

“oh.” there’s some shuffling heard over the phone. “hyung, it’s a quarter past three.” 

“yeah and?” seojun says blankly. “did i wake you?” 

kj responds with a loud sigh and seojun laughs. 

“no… i was still up.”  [ someone please get these guys some melatonin… ] 

“do you think you can help me with something really quick?” the older asks, setting down the phone and turning to his computer. 

[ insert seojun explaining the problem at 2x speed. i have no idea what he’s yapping about even after translations 💀 ] 

there’s a moment of silence after seojun is done before kj chimes in with a small, “ah, i see.” 

“i’ve been working on this for two hours.”  [ never thought i’d see seojun get stumped on a track until this live 🫢 ]  a slight whine seeps into the leader’s voice. “yunies keep teasing me and saying to give up.”

“you should give up. go to sleep.”  

“yah! that’ the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to say,” seojun pouts, nose scrunched for a brief moment. “where’s my ‘you can do this, hyung! i believe in you! fighting!’?” [ his impression of kj kills me everytime 😭 ]

“not here, that's for sure.” 

the older slumps in his seat with an annoyed whine, taking off his cap and running a hand through his hair again, as kj chuckles in the background. 

“you’re such a child, hyung.” there’s a moment of pause before he speaks up again, “have you tried…”

[ insert kj talking about more music knowledge that hurts my brain at 2x speed. god i wish is was musically gifted. ]

“ah,” seojun drawls out, fingers working fast along the keyboard. pressing play once again, he listens to the adjusted sound and leans back with a smile before pausing it and grabbing for his phone again. 

“it sounds way better, kai-yah,” he says with a large grin on his face, “thank you, jun number two.” 

“mhm, anytime,” kj responds softly. “can i ask what this is even for, hyung?” 

“oh. a yu challenged me to make a song using only the word taco,” he answers with a smile still on his face. shuffling can be heard again through the other end of the phone. seojun sits up straighter and raises an eyebrow at the delayed response. 

“hello? kaiyangi? kai-yah? my favourite child?” 

“go to sleep, seojun hyung,” kj sighs, exasperated. “you’re delirious. i’m hanging up.”

“what? wait no don’t go just yet. keep me company for a bit longer my sweet apple tart, my baby hone-” the end tone beeps before seojun it enveloped in silence again. 

he looks at the phone as if it had offended him and cursed his bloodline and slowly raises his head back to stare dead on into the stream camera. 

“he actually did it.” 

　　 CODE NAME: SO(U)L  — EP. ???  [ i forgot sorry 😭😭 ] 

normal – korean 　 italics – english 　 bold – other specified language

oliver is busy talking to the camera during his one-on-one interview when seojun quietly comes up beside him in frame, hands slowly sneaking up to unbutton the other’s shirt. 

“and that’s wh- yah!” oliver swats at seojun’s hand; the leader had managed to undo two, revealing the then blonde’s collarbones and just above when his pecs start. “stop that!” 

“hot sexy guy oliver in the house!” seojun shouts before running off, leaving the older of the two shaking his head with a sigh and redoing his shirt. 

“that guy i swear,” he tsked, looking at the camera sternly. oliver goes to say something else but is cut off by another voice.

“ah men.” the camera quickly pans to the side. kj is sitting in one of the dressing chairs, the stylist fiddling with his hair ducking her head into her arm with laughter as he catches the camera from the mirror’s reflection. “this is why you don’t trust them.”  [ 💀💀 ]

“you are a man!” oliver retorts with a laugh. 

“yeah, and i don’t trust myself either.” he raises a brow. “your point is?” 

oliver shakes his head with a sigh and a tired look to the camera. 

“gong kaijun, everyone.”

　　 ISEUL’S 26TH BIRTHDAY LIVE 

“yo wait, hyung,” ryo says through a mouthful of cake, nudging iseul with his elbow as mars tries to frantically save the younger’s image, “hyung, how old are you now?” 

“aish this kid,” he mutters. “i’m twenty six now.” 

“wow, hyung’s half fifty two,” kj mumbles to himself, head angled downwards as he pokes at a piece of cake on his plate with his fork. “he’ll have to be put in a nursing home soon.”  [ i snorted so hard at this 🖐️😭 ]

seven barks out a loud laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth  [ someone save him ] and ducking his face out of the frame, and ryo joins in soon after. kj looks up, confusion written on his face.

“oh, i said that out loud, didn’t i?” 

“you’re going to be the end of me.” with a roll of the eyes, iseul hits the back of kj’s head lightly with a scowl.  

“i mean…” the younger takes on a thoughtful look, index finger tapping his chin, “as long as you put me in the will…”

[ iseul looks so done this poor poor guy 😔 ] 

　　 MULTILINGUAL BADASSERY W/ FO SQUAD

“i’m curious.” lou looks up from the tablet in his hand. “what language do you guys use in the dorms?” 

oliver, mars, and kj all hum in understanding. 

“one of your members, ryo?” oliver nods. “is japanese and you—“ lou gestures to kj. “—and mars are chinese or half chinese. 

“you, kj, and oliver are also fluent in english. do you guys all only talk in korean or does it depend on the member?” 

“well,” oliver sighs, brows furrowed and rubbing his chin, “gosh man.” 

“it’s hard to explain, but we usually talk in korean. sometimes english too. all of us can understand it to various levels,” kj chuckles. 

“he speaks six,” mars says, patting kj on the arm. “kai is very smart.” 

“you speak six languages?” one of the hosts states at kj with his mouth agape as the other laughs. 

“mhm,” kj says with a nod, “but i’m only fluent in four.” 

“‘bUt i’M oNLy fLuEnT In FoUR’ bro what?”  [ #literallyme when kj said that 😭 ]  ous tosses his hands and leans back in his seat. “don’t even play that game with me right now.”

oliver throws his head back with a cackle and kj laughs into his hands. 

“i usually respond in the language that the person started the conversation with,” he says, fanning his face to calm down. “like, if mars talks to me in chinese, i’ll respond in chinese.”  [ we love a guy who can communicate ] 

“how does your brain function, what?” ous covers his mouth and sighs. “holy man…” 

[ i didn’t include this part in the clip (because it would be almost the entire interview if i did-) but kj later says he tries to pick up on different languages on tour to talk to yunies 🥹😓😓 so technically, he knows more than just six. ]

[ ROBOTIC VOICE OVER ] 　 there were so many more i wanted to include but then this video would be an hour long 💀💀 anyways, in conclusion, stan kj, stan syoul, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR WORLD PRODUCER!! 

[jaesqueso]

Sit down (m)

pairing: co-worker!taeyong x female office manager!reader (briefly featuring co-workers taeil, johnny and jaehyun)

summary: sometimes a women in power just wants to be played around like a toy

word count: 1,942

warnings: uses of ‘master’ and some degrading terms, oral sex, unprotected sex, cream pie

a/n: little page anniversary present to you all, thank you for all the support through these 2 years, I hope ya’ll enjoy it ❤

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

"Who was responsible for this?" You ask in a stern voice.

"That would be my team." Taeil says bowing his head in apology.

"Bring them in." You order. “Now."

Quickly the man leaves your office coming back followed by three other. You look at them recognising each one. Johnny Suh. Jung Jaehyun. And Lee Taeyong.

"I'm not gonna bother asking who's fault is this but you have one hour to get this sorted." All four of them bow and are about to leave the room until you interrupt. "Here. I want to see you fix this mess. Sit down.”

In a blink of an eye everybody takes a seat and gets down to work. With a sigh you walk around your desk and sit on your chair. 

"Ahreum," you call into your speaker, "move my 3 o'clock to 4 and re-schedule me 4:30 for tomorrow.”

With a positive response you lean back, watching all man concentrated on their laptops, tension filling the air. You've been an office manager for a long time in this company and that has built up the respect you surely deserve. Some may call you mean or even a bitch, but you just like things done properly on a timely fashion and when that doesn't happen, well you need to take proper measures.

At ten minutes to the deadline you ask for an update and team leader Moon Taeil ensures you they're almost finished, but you don't take it for granted until you see it.

"All done." He finally announces and all eyes focus on you.

"Copy me in on the apology email to the client." You order as he rapidly types on the keyboard.

"In behalf of the team we apologise." They all stand up and bow.

"Just make sure this doesn't happen again, Moon." You warn and they leave.

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a sigh you go on with the rest of the day, a boring meeting where you pretend to be the nicest person in the world to score the deal, answering some emails and before you know it it's already past your time to go.

After packing your things, you put away your work phone and grab your personal when, smiling when you see a specific text.

Master: we still on for tonight?

You: yup. 8pm. My place.

Leaving the already empty office you rush home to make some food and get ready for the night.

Checking the clock, your leg shakes in anticipation as you wait on your couch. At 8 sharp the door bell rings and you jump up, almost running to answer.

"Hi, taeyong." Your greeting sounds relieved and he smirks. "Come in.”

Taking off his shoes and jacket, he walks into the living room like he owns the place.

You take one last look in the mirror, making sure you look good before you turn to him, awaiting his call.

"Come here." He nods his head and you take a step forward before he stops you. "Not like that.”

Understanding exactly what he means, you get down on all fours, crawling your way to him. At his feet, you kneel but keep your head down, knowing not to look him in the eye without permission.

"Good girl." He pats your head making your insides tingle. "Look at me.”

Instantly you glance up, almost melting at the way he looks at you, like he can't wait to ruin you.

"Are you gonna behave today?" Eagerly you nod making him chuckle. "Show me.”

Lifting your hands, you slowly undo his belt, then unbutton his slacks and slide the zipper down. Still making eye contact with him, you push his pants to the floor followed by his underwear, resisting the urge to look at his half hard cock inches away from your face. Your hand moves up his thigh to grab it and blindly align it with your mouth.

"I think you can do better than that." He challenges as he steps out of his pants. "No hands.”

Dropping your arms to your sides, you open your mouth and try to find his cock while your eyes are still on his.

"You're such a pathetic little whore." He mocks you as he takes of his shirt, leaving him completely naked. "but pathetic little whores always get what they want, don't they?”

You struggle to nod as you get more of his dick inside your mouth. Once you get to the base, you feel your eyes water and you move your head back starting to feel a gag reflex, but Taeyong has other plans. His hand falls to the back of your head pushing it back to him. Struggling, you focus on breathing through your nose until he finally let's you go.

"That's it. Good girl." He praises with a smirk, wiping a tear that was rolling down your cheek. "Now show me you can keep it up.”

Your hair is bunched up on a pony before you're forced back on his length. But this time you were ready and move back and forth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him. He hisses and you take it as an incentive, adding your tongue to the mix, knowing damn well it drives him crazy.

"You're pulling all the tricks today, aren't you?" He says through clenched teeth as his cock grows into your throat.

Moaning with your mouth full, you can already feel your panties sticking to your wet pussy. A lot of women don't particularly enjoy giving head but to you it's a freaking pleasure, specially when you're being roughly guided into it.

"Ok, that's enough." You gasp as Taeyong pulls your head away, strings of your saliva and his pre-cum keeping you connected. "Get up.”

With his hand still gripping your hair, you pull yourself up, standing right in front of him.

"Look at you. So nasty." He comments, spreading the mess around your mouth with his thumb. "Who's my dirty little whore?”

"I am." Your voice is small and you can feel your throat getting sore already.

"Yes, you are." Leaning forward, he gives you a sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your mouth. "Come with me.”

Following him to the couch, you patiently wait for his next instructions, pretty aware of the mess between your legs pushing through the pink lace underwear you decided to wear tonight.

"Sit down." He orders and you don't waste another second. "Open up, I'm hungry now.”

Taeyong watches your legs part as wide as you possibly can, smirking at your arousal.

"Look at that, I haven't even touched you." A small whine leaves your mouth, desperate for his touch. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson on being patient.”

"Please..." The word leaves your lips before you can even think and he chuckles.

"But since you said ‘please…'" He mocks your tone getting down on his knees in front of you.

His tongue rolls out and takes a long lick over the wet lace, making your head fall back with a shaky sigh. He starts eating you out over the fabric, the friction adding to the pleasure. Slowly his hands making their way up your thighs, through your sides until they cup your breast that are still covered with a matching lace bra. His fingers tease your already hard nipples about to poke through and you can't help moan at the added feeling.

Gripping the pillows on the couch, you crave for his direct touch, without the lingerie set in the way, but you wouldn't dare ask for it, when you started your little arrangement you both agreed he could do anything he wanted and you just had to obey and endure. When you put it like that it may seem like an unfair deal for you, but being used so carelessly is what really gets you hot.

The orgasm builds up rapidly inside, you don't know how Taeyong always manages to get you to cum so quickly and with so little, but maybe the reverse roles outside the office plays a part on it. Soon you feel it taking over you, your back arching of the couch as you moan his name out loud.

"I thought you were going to behave." His head comes up between your legs, his tongue licking his lips. "Who told you you could cum?”

"I'm sorry..." You whisper, still breathless as you come down your high.

"Oh, you will be." Standing back up he admires your body. "Cause I'm about to wreck you.”

You yelp when he suddenly grabs your hips pulling you forward and up. Your head now rests on the seat as the rest of your body is upside down, ass resting against his crotch.

"Let's get this out of the way." He fully rips your underwear out of your body. “Oops..."

The way he stares down to your fully exposed core tells you he's not even sorry he ruined one of the most expensive lingerie sets on your closet. Giving a few pumps on his still hard dick, he lays it right between your folds, moving his hips back and forward to create friction against your pussy.

"You're going to take my cock like a good girl?" You nod as you can, biting your lip. "Let's see about that.”

His length easily slips into your wet hole, the strange angle making you feel like never before. Taeyong starts moving in and out of you, quickly picking up a good pace that turns you into a moaning mess.

"Look at this. " Glancing up you can't believe your eyes when you see his bulge through your stomach. "I'm fucking you so deep you can see it.”

You don't know why the scene turned you on so much but you can already feel your second orgasm approach. And apparently, so can he.

"Don't you dare cum before I say so." He warns, fucking you harder and faster.

"Please..." You plea, desperate for release.

"As much as I love to see you beg, you’re going to have to hold on just a bit longer.” As he bites his lip you can tell he’s close too. “Master needs his release first.”

Clenching your walls you hope to speed up the process, because you know you really won’t be able to hold it much longer.

“You nasty little slut.” Taeyong hisses. “You want my cum?”

“Yes, please!” You almost yell in despair.

“Oh yeah?” You can feel his thrusts getting sloppy. ”I’m gonna fill you up so good. And you’re going to take it all.”

“Give it to me master, please!” You mumble between moans.

“You want it that bad?” He groans with a smirking. “Here it comes.”

Strings of hot cum paint your insides, his pace slowing but not stopping.

“Go on, your time now.”

With a warm feeling inside you let your self go, body trembling in pleasure as he gives a few final thrust before halting his moves still buried inside you. If he wasn’t still holding your hips in place, you’re sure your body would’ve fallen, half on the couch, half on the floor.

“Look at this.” Taeyong slowly gets his dick out of you, watching your hole clench around nothing, full of his cum. “So beautiful.”

As your breathing gets back to normal you start to feel the pain in your back from the awkward position you’re still in. When you moan, in pain this time, he understands and carefully positions your body back down on the couch.

“Was that good?” He asks, sitting down next to you.

“Don’t be so needy, Taeyong.” You scoff, getting up. “Order us some food, I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nc-teen​​ ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @yutahoes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @dimplehyunn​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @iknowyuno​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bebskyy​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @ne0cultur3technology​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nurenciye​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @luvjeongjaehyun​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nohyuckieduckie​​​​​​​ @booyouwhore17​​​​​​ @jenoxygen​​​​​​  @jaehyunsprincess​​​

unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Jeff Fictional Universe (JFU) Headcanons

A/N: Hi everyone! I'm on holiday at the moment and don't have too much time for writing, but my next fic is close to being finished and here's this in the meantime: it's a bunch of my headcanons about Jeff the Landshark that haven't explicitly made it into my JFU fics yet.

Send me an ask if you have any of your own headcanons about Jeff, I'd love to hear them and see if they'll fit into future stories! Have a good day y'all and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: vague mentions of death, not proofread.

➼ Jeff was experimented on by MODOK. This one is pretty canon to Jeff’s official comics since MODOK officially created the land sharks, but in my mind, it went a lot deeper than that. Jeff doesn’t really remember any of it, nor does it affect him anymore, but he’ll still get a bit nervous in lab environments and snap at people who get too intrusive, even if he doesn’t know why he does that.

➼ He’s a mix of a bunch of animals – a shark most obviously, but he has the behaviour of dogs/cats and the toe count of guinea pigs, to name a few.

➼ Jeff understands every language, but he can only speak his own. He doesn’t expect anyone to speak his language because of this, but he can get frustrated that they don’t even understand his language. Especially with Natasha.

➼ When you first got the ability to speak to animals in the JFU, Jeff was the first animal you could understand, but you had gotten so used to answering Jeff’s mrrrs with random assumptions that you didn’t even notice. Jeff also didn’t notice because you had actually been fairly good at guessing what he wanted. It was only after a few days and a long speech by Jeff that you both had the moment of realisation.

➼ Jeff cannot read; you and Natasha have tried to teach him but to no avail. It became a challenge between the Avengers that anyone who teaches Jeff to read would win. Tony got closest to winning, but you later realised that Jeff was just reciting a section of the book which Tony had taught him to memorise, and he still couldn’t read anything else. Bruce decides that Jeff is just biologically incapable of reading full words.

➼ Despite this, Jeff can write a few short words/phrases; mainly his, yours, and Natasha’s names.

➼ Even if he can’t read words, Jeff understands all the letters of the alphabet individually and is convinced that the letter ‘E’ is written backwards (Ǝ). Any attempts to correct this are met with a scolding from that land shark and a lesson on how to ‘write it properly’.

➼ Somehow, Jeff has even set his phone keyboard to have a backwards E. Nobody is sure how he managed this, or even why he changed it, since he types in his own language and only uses the letters ‘m’ and ‘r’.

➼ He will sometimes ‘correct’ Natasha and your mission notes to have ‘the proper Ǝ’ because he doesn’t want you to look bad or be embarrassed. This leads to Maria Hill and Fury sometimes even writing their Es backwards since they’re so used to seeing it and reading it as if it were normal.

➼ On the topic of Jeff’s mental abilities: Jeff can only count to 4, since he has 4 fingers on his front hands (he only has 3 toes on his back feet, but that’s another matter – see ‘Class Pet’ for Jeff’s reaction to this information)

➼ If Jeff tries to count above 4, he reverts back to 1. This has led to some issues when you asked Jeff to scout out how many soldiers there were during a mission (Jeff had stowed away, but he was put to good(?) use). You went out expecting an easy fight, only to be confronted by 13 soldiers and a realisation that Jeff cannot count.

➼ There aren’t many foods that Jeff won’t eat; he’ll happily root through the trash for an extra snack, however, Natasha cooked for him once and that is where he draws the line. He immediately taught himself how to cook and he is excellent at it, and will often step in to cook when Natasha says she will (much to your relief). He is not so good at cleaning up after himself – but you leave that chore to Natasha.

➼ Sharks have some understanding of what Jeff is saying when he swims with them, but he has a ‘land accent’ and sometimes they find it easier for you to translate for Jeff, much to his annoyance.

➼ Jeff hopes to find other landsharks like him one day… little does he know that he’s the last of his kind. The others attacked civilians in an invasion orchestrated by MODOK and were put down by the Avengers; Jeff was saved by being the runt of the litter and was left in his cage rather than being sent out with the others.

400 year old Jeff headcanons (these aren’t all canon to the JFU, but it’s a fun version of Jeff that @wolferine and I brainstormed in discord.)

➼ Jeff is 400 years old but nobody believes him; they even go as far as to call him a baby constantly since his appearance has never changed.

➼ He was kicked out of the landshark group because he ate all their food. Jeff is exceptionally hungry for a landshark. He spent some time in the sea after that and befriended the oldest greenland shark, who was still just a pup like Jeff at the time.

➼ Jeff still goes to visit his friend from time to time, glad to have had someone with him for his whole existence.

➼ When you and Natasha take Jeff in, it is the first time in his 400 years of life where he has been content to settle with a family for their entire lifetimes. The Avengers promise that their children will look after Jeff when they’re gone, like a tortoise (once they realise Jeff isn’t a baby).

➼ Jeff replies to any scolding with ‘I’m older than you’ or ‘respect your elders’, much to Steve’s annoyance because that’s usually his line, but now he’s being called a youth by a tiny, round, short legged shark.

➼ The other Avengers expect Jeff to scold Thor when he comes to Earth and calls Jeff a baby on their first meeting, but to their surprise, he just accepts it. Jeff mentions later on that he met Thor roughly 350 years before during a battle on Earth. Thor doesn’t believe Jeff is that old until he finds a portrait of the battle back on Asgard, and spots a familiar landshark in the drawing; he still doesn’t believe it can be Jeff and assumes it is just Jeff’s ancestor, so Jeff bites him in annoyance – that spurs a memory and Thor suddenly realises that it was Jeff who fought in battle with him (because Jeff had accidentally bitten Thor in the heat of the battle, and he’s been bitten by so many creatures in his life that he instantly recognises the landshark bite.)

Jeff taglist: @unexpected-character @wolferine

[imaginedreamwrite]

Silverfox Jake Jenson with a hacker who has been giving him trouble cause shes bored and loves bothering him. Maybe it's a former high school friend and he doesn't know it

“Hack the unhackable,” the click of your keyboard had been the secondary break of silence while you sat in your dorm room, with the first being your friends pausing tone, “you’re going to try and hack Professor Lacey’s friend?”

“Jack the unhackable,” you grinned and turned in your chair, facing her head on, “he claims to be a solidly protected man with an unreachable computer-”

“This guy was in the army, Bee!” Your friend cut you off, raising another concern over your attempt to cure your boredom by targeting Jake Jensen.

The Silverfox guest speaker in your current computers course had been well received by a number of the female students in class. His height was the first check mark for so many of the girls, and then his charming goofiness had only added to it all.

Jake Jensen, ex-army and self-labeled computer genius, had appeared in front of your class to many starry-eyes women who thought it was more than his height and broad shoulders that garnered their attention. Jake Jensen was gorgeous, truly he was, a rightful silverfox if you’d ever seen one.

But it was his perception that he was unhackable that stole your attention. It was the claim that he was the best at keeping others out that made you want to push him.

“Bee, reconsider this.” Your friend plopped onto your bed, playing with one of your pillows. “This army guy…”

“Likes to play games,” you grinned and rolled your shoulders back, admiring the gates shutting before your very eyes, and the challenge that rose from it.

“Y/N-” she attempted again, another chance to turn back before an invitation popped up on your screen.

“Pirate Hat and boxers?” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head as the random words had shown up on the screen beyond the invitation to some kind of parlay. They were randomly shoved between text and code, files and documents you’d been allowed to weed through however they seemed to be completely irrelevant.

“Blogging! Why can’t you go start blogging? Or steal a billion dollars from Elon Musk?”

“I think…” your smile fell for a moment before it rose again. “I think Jake Jensen wants to meet me. An address and a time-”

“-you can’t be serious?” She scoffed, typing away at her phone before pulling up the name of the building and company residing inside. “Its one of those destruction rooms, you know where you go and smash things up.”

“Admiration and annoyance,” you turned from your computer screen and crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m gonna meet him.”

“Does he even know who you are? This is the first time you’ve hacked him?”

“Third, actually.” You let your computer software run in the background while you spoke to your friend, shrugging softly before you continued to speak. “The first time he shut me out right away, the last time I had managed to rearrange his personalization settings and every time he pressed a certain key an army of animated ducks would dance across his screen-”

“Bee!” She screeched and scolded you with your petname. “You did not-!”

“This time…I got a date invitation.” You grinned and looked over your shoulder. “He has no idea who I am. But soon he will.”

[kurtsascot]

getting older- KWS 2023 Day 2

written for klaine word scramble day 2!

been writing a lot of angst in my wip so i felt inspired to write some fluff- this challenge was super fun;;

i will crosspost on ao3 once i get back from vacation.

enjoy married klaine that is canon (?) compliant

blaine anderson/kurt hummel

rated T, 2394 words

summary: blaine discovers he needs glasses. kurt helps him cope with getting older.

words used: realign, linger, gel, glare, angle

Blaine always knew that this was a possibility, but he didn’t think today would be the day.

“You need glasses,” the shopping mall optometrist says with a degree of nonchalance that only annoys Blaine further. He’s tapping away at his chunky, dated keyboard, working to pull up Blaine’s vision prescription, avoiding eye contact. Blaine has determined that his vision must be so horrendously disgusting that looking him in the eye is out of the question. “You’re getting older, and so are your eyes.”

“I don’t wear glasses,” Blaine says, like it’s a valid argument. “I can’t need glasses.”

The optometrist doesn’t look back. He hits print. “Well, you do need them.” He swivels in his chair and faces Blaine, eyebrows raised, with a face that mimics parental disappointment. “And you should wear them.”

He gets up to leave and Blaine is on his heels. “You don’t get it,” Blaine says, and he’s whining, but this guy really just doesn’t get it. “I’m an actor. Stage makeup is already enough of a headache without glasses or contacts. I can’t have my roles limited.” There’s another optometrist in Blaine’s path, and Blaine does a quick side step to avoid running straight into her. He nicks the back of his optometrist’s-he just met the guy and Blaine’s not possessive but right now this guy is his- heels in the stumble. “Shit, sorry.”

The man hands Blaine’s file off to the receptionist. “Are you really arguing with me?” He straightens out his lab coat, and Blaine tries not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Why does this guy have a lab coat on in the middle of an Ohio mall? He’s not even a real doctor-why is Blaine listening to him? “Look, you can’t see up close, and your distance vision needs a little help. Since you are more farsighted, you can probably get away with not wearing any glasses on stage and see just fine.”

“Probably?” Blaine needs something definitive.

Fake-doctor guy just shrugs. “I don’t know what you do for a living, man, and I really don’t care.” He gestures with his working, perfect eyes behind Blaine. “Go pick out some frames. We have a buy-one-get-one sale going on.”

Blaine doesn’t move. He shuffles on his feet. His hand roots around his pants pocket for his phone. “This can’t be happening,” he mutters to himself.

The receptionist gives the optometrist a worried look. He just shrugs again and walks off into the back.

Blaine momentarily entertains following him- he wasn’t even done talking to him- but, no, that’d be crazy and controlling. Blaine’s trying to not be like that anymore.

The receptionist’s voice pulls Blaine out of his crisis. She sounds mousy. “Glasses aren’t that bad,” she tries. “They can help elevate your personal style.”

“My style does not need elevated,” Blaine defends, shooting a text. He’s squinting at the screen as he sends it, hoping that whatever blurred jargon he typed actually meant something. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“If this is the worst day of your life, can we switch places?” Her expression is less affectionate now, and she gives Blaine a pointed look. “I have to deal with disgruntled customers arguing with our staff and moping.”

Blaine’s eyes may narrow at her, but it’s honestly half a squint. He lets out a huff. “It’s not personal. I’m not mad at you specifically.”

“Right, but you are taking it out on me.”

Blaine opens his mouth to defend himself, but stops. He knows she’s right. “I’m sorry,” he offers. For the first time since stepping in the store, he actually looks around. “Any of the frames here will work with the sale?”

She offers Blaine a soft smile. “Any frames. You will have to let me know if you want two pairs bifocals, or one pair of bifocals and one pair for distance, or-“ She starts shuffling through Blaine’s file, and her gaze stops mid-way on the page. “I would recommend bifocals.” She looks up at Blaine. “How long have you not been able to see?”

Now, Blaine’s embarrassed. He looks around the store and no one is pointing and laughing at him, so, that’s good. No ones even paying attention to him.

Somehow, it still feels like they are. “I’m going to go look at frames,” he mutters, saying it aloud to hold himself accountable, and steps away from the counter.

Shopping for glasses, Blaine discovers, should be a torture tactic that the US government reserves for enemies of the state. The frames look promising displayed, but none look right on his face. Certain frames look so similar that the price jump is laughable. Other frames Blaine doesn’t even attempt to try on because, well, there is a reason some of them are so cheap. They look clunky or dated.

Like the frames, Blaine feels dated. He isn’t one to get hung up on age, but he’s in his thirties now, and today, well, he is feeling that old.

Older, even. He should just check himself into an retirement village at this point. First his eyes, then his mobility-his mind surely is soon to follow, if he hasn’t started to lose it already.

Blaine might currently be losing it.

Blaine loves sunglasses shopping. Sunglasses shopping makes him feel chic. Why is this so painful?

Blaine’s just staring at the discarded, already tried-on and not instantly hated frames lined up in front of him when Kurt shows up.

“I got your text.” Kurt looks a little flustered. He hangs his sunglasses off the neckline of his shirt. “What’s the emergency?” Across his collarbone there’s a thin sheen of sweat from the summer heat, and Blaine can’t help but look. “Hey-my eyes are up here.”

Blaine tears his focus away from Kurt’s neck and up to his face. He is looking at Blaine with a soft, amused expression, but there’s some tension held in his jaw. “You came.”

“What’s the emergency?” Kurt asks. He plays with Blaine’s hair a top of his head. It was humid today, and Blaine had to use some gel. He wishes he would have been able to keep his hair fluffy-maybe this whole ordeal wouldn’t feel so restrictive. “Are your eyes going to fall out of your head?”

“I need glasses,” Blaine laments.

Kurt blinks at him, then steps back and scoffs. “I left work early because you need glasses?!”

“Shit-I forgot what day it was.”

“I can’t skip out on rehearsal, Blaine. I can’t set a bad example for all the fresh-out-of-college extras.”

“I know.” Blaine groans. “I’m sorry. I was-I am freaking out, okay.”

“I got that from your text,” Kurt deadpans, but gets closer to him nonetheless, so they are standing shoulder to shoulder. His eyes survey the plethora of frames in front of them. “You need glasses?” The question sounds softer now, more emphatic.

“Bifocals,” Blaine corrects with a grimace. “I’m officially old.”

“I’m older than you.”

“And yet, you don’t need glasses.”

Kurt picks up a frame holds it up to the light, turning his hand to take it in from a different angle. “I take care of my eyes,” he says, not looking at Blaine. “I told you those exercises I do are important.” He tilts his head and passes Blaine a glance. “You should stretch your eyes, especially when you insist on reading in low light. Or, at least put on a lamp.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, but he’s not really listening. He’s focusing on the endless variety of frames in front of him and how they are all terrible and make him feel terrible.

“Hey.” Kurt places a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and holds him steady, rubbing his thumb in small circles. “Do you want my help?”

Tension is released from Blaine’s shoulders that Blaine wasn’t aware he was holding. He visibly exhales and hangs his head. “Yes.” He rolls his shoulders back and picks up one of the glasses frames he has been eyeing, putting them quickly over his ears. “What do you think of these?” Blaine asks as he turns away from the mirror and towards Kurt.

Kurt fights off a nose twitch and steps back. “Those are-“ He knows Blaine is going through it, and he’s trying to be polite-“Different.” A beat. “I don’t think they suit you.”

“You can say they look bad on me.”

Kurt exhales a sigh of relief. “They look bad on you,” he admits. “You look like a cartoon character,” he adds without thought.

Blaine laughs and puts the glasses back on the display, far away from his pile of maybes. He picks up another pair, puts them on, and turns towards Kurt. “Okay. And these?”

Kurt blinks at him. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.” He looks up. “You know, with the lighting and the glare.”

“I can get anti-glare lenses.”

“Yeah…” Kurt trails off.

Blaine takes off the glasses and puts them back with an amused hum.

“Look,” Kurt says. He starts going through Blaine’s pile and putting the ones back that he hates, not even asking Blaine to try them on. “You can get frames anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here. We can order a bunch online and try them on at home.”

“Yeah, but,” Blaine clears his throat and picks up a pair that Kurt hasn’t gotten to yet. He puts them on and says to his reflection, “If I don’t get them today, I feel like I won’t get them at all.”

Kurt watches Blaine in the mirror. There’s a moment where Kurt studies Blaine’s face, and then, he lets out a sigh. “Okay.” He steps forward and looks at the frames in front of him, only this time, he is actually looking at them. “Let’s do this then.”

Instantly, Kurt picks up a pair from the wall and hands them to Blaine by one of the ear pieces. “This one,” Kurt says, sounding so sure of himself. Blaine falls a little more in love with him. “This one is nice.”

Blaine swaps the pair he has on for Kurt’s selection. It’s different from the others he tried on, but they look okay, Blaine thinks- they aren’t prescription yet, so, like, he can’t be sure he doesn’t look stupid. “I like them.” Blaine means it when he says it, but he’s not entirely convinced that he can be someone that just…wears glasses. “Do you like them?”

Kurt nods. “I do. You look distinguished.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow and leans closer to the mirror. “You think?” He turns his face side to side. “Isn’t distinguished a nicer way to say old?”

“No, it’s something entirely different.” Kurt places both his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and gives them a little rub. “Distinguished is hot.” He pecks Blaine’s cheek, his lips against his stubble. “You look hot.”

Blaine feels the smile before he sees it. He straightens his posture a bit, and gives himself another look. “Okay, you’re right. I like them.” He turns to face Kurt on his heels, snaking his hands around his lower back. “Thank you.”

Kurt hums in response, a small smile spread across his face. He gives Blaine’s shoulders a squeeze and brings his lips down to meet Blaine’s. It’s mostly innocent-they are in public- but Kurt’s affection always gives Blaine a lingering, floaty feeling, and now that they have settled on a pair of glasses, Blaine’s mind is floating away along with his restraint to keep this kiss simple and chaste.

When Kurt pulls back, he takes a bit of Blaine’s heart with him. Blaine thinks he has a bit of Kurt’s heart too- if they were keeping score over all these years, Blaine thinks there’s an even split. “I love you, you know that right.” Kurt pulls the glasses down Blaine’s face by the nose bridge, letting them rest on the tip. “Bad eyesight and all.”

Blaine’s grinning like an idiot, but he doesn’t care. He pushes the frames back to realign them. “I love you too,” Blaine says. He glances back towards the receptionist, who waves them over, looking entertained. “We should pay for these. If you are serious about them.”

Kurt steps back and pulls the frames off of Blaine’s face. “I didn’t even look at the price,” he mumbles as they make their way towards the counter. In a couple weeks, they’ll have to come back once the lenses come in to get the frames fitted, but today, it feels like the glasses are already Blaine’s.

Then, Kurt lets out an unsettled, amused squeak as he eyes the price tag, and his cheeks pinken.

Blaine attempts to decipher the number, but Kurt holds the frames over Blaine’s head and passes them to the secretary, taking advantage of their slight height difference. “Don’t worry about it,” Kurt says, pulling out his wallet “My treat.”

“Kurt-“

“Blaine, if you knew how much they were,” he says as the woman swipes his card, “you wouldn’t get them.”

Blaine blinks. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Hey,” Kurt leans on the counter and Blaine’s eyes naturally follow the motion. “They make you happy. You like them. Let me get you something you like-I splurge on my own wardrobe often enough.” The receptionist hands Kurt’s card back, and Kurt grabs it between two fingers. “We can invest in something that you wear every day.”

“You make me happy,” Blaine corrects, watching as Kurt places the card back in his wallet. “I don’t need anything expensive.”

“Well, buying you this makes me happy.” Kurt hold’s Blaine’s forearm and gives it a squeeze. It’s like Kurt knows Blaine’s floating, and he’s prepared to anchor him. “Let me be happy.”

Blaine finds himself nodding because, really, there isn’t another option when Kurt is looking at him like that, with a fondness that seems intuitive, as natural as breathing. “Alright.” He’s smiling and presses a kiss to Kurt’s lips. It’s half teeth, but it’s perfect. “Let’s be happy together.”

A little later, as they shuffle around car seats to find space for Kurt’s impromptu clothing haul and throw away half-opened water bottles and their daughter’s forgotten candy wrappers, Blaine realizes that getting older isn’t so bad, as long as he can do it with Kurt.

Glasses have a way of letting you see things clearly.

[mysticqueer]

‘working theory’ - ch.1/?

takes place during day 8 of Ray’s route- what if MC put together the connection between Seven and Saeran all on her own?

Your thumbs hovered uselessly over the digital keyboard.

Zen and Seven were talking in the chatroom, mood far more somber than usual. If you were silent for too long, they might start to get concerned. Which, well-- you almost wish they were. But for the sake of your safety you needed to give the impression that nothing was wrong.

Which made bringing up the next topic of conversation nonchalantly a real challenge.

MC: Hey Seven... can I ask you a random question?

Your heart pounded as you mustered the courage to ask even that. It wasn’t like you had any solid proof behind your theory, just a gut instinct. The hours you spent staring at Seven’s ridiculous cosplay photos, the icy way that Ray spoke about the redheaded hacker...

You knew, deep down, that this was likely a bad idea. But your curiosity always got the better of you. That’s how you’d ended up in this situation, after all. You felt like you were being watched, a constant presence over your shoulder, watching your every move. Of course, you knew it wasn’t just paranoia. Saeran was surely watching you over the cameras right now, just like always. You fought the tension trying to take over your body.

707: I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to answer

707: depending on what it’s about.

707: but you’re always free to ask. what’s up?

Seven’s serious tone, as always, hurt your heart just a little bit. He was normally so upbeat and quirky. The events of the last few days were clearly weighing on him.

You tell yourself, unconvincingly, that it will be fine. It’s not as if you’re sending out a flare for help. You aren’t technically doing anything you aren’t supposed to. You take a deep breath and type.

MC: Do you... have a brother?

...

Silence.

Then...

- 707 has left the chatroom. -

Your blood turns cold in your veins. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting. You’d been hoping, perhaps, for some lighthearted, joking reply. Something that would disprove your theory once and for all.

Zen is typing something, but you pay little attention, your thoughts racing. Suddenly-

Incoming Call - 707

You should reject it. You should really reject it. You’re almost certain that Saeran knows about what you said, and you doubt he’ll be happy. Talking further to Seven would only be digging your grave even deeper. At this point would it be better to tell the truth, ask for help, and hope for the best? Or to try and play it off as nothing, dissuade his suspicions?

You hit the ‘answer’ button without thinking.

“MC?” Seven’s tone is light, with barely concealed tension and urgency. He’s trying to hide how your question affected him, you’re almost sure. He’s a secret agent, normally so good at hiding his true feelings. Hearing him like this... emotions so barely concealed, was unnerving.

“Hey...” you answer lamely. Play it off, or ask for help? Do you even have time for either? The blinking red light of the security camera in your room feels like hot breath on your neck.

“MC, sorry about leaving so suddenly, but I... why did you ask me that?” Seven asks in a tight voice. He can’t seem to quite collect his thoughts. You can relate.

“Oh- it’s nothing, I just, uh... saw somebody who I thought looked like you...”

A sharp intake of breath, and then... nothing?

“Seven?”

“...”

You look down at your phone, and find the screen blank. No phone call. No messenger. Just error text. Your heart drops.

BANG

The door to your room suddenly slams open. In steps the boy in the suit with white hair, his eyes furious.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His heart pounding, his breaths shallow, Seven-no, Saeyoung, types rapidly at his computer. He’s most certainly Saeyoung now, not Seven. Thirty seconds. It took thirty seconds and a single line of text to strip away his carefully built armor named 707. Now it’s just Saeyoung, his hands shaking as he tries desperately to restore his connection with MC.

Why would she ask him that?

The question itself had been one thing. It could have been innocuous. But MC, and her situation, were unbelievably suspicious at best. Even though he believed MC herself to have no bad intent, her situation and relationship with the hacker was sketchy enough to make him wary of trusting her.

Why would she ask him that?

He’d called her on impulse, which may have been a bad idea. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t how her voice had sounded, quiet and so hesitant. Scared. She’d sounded almost scared.

He hadn’t expected his connection to cut out so suddenly, lines of reckless and aggressive code pasting itself over his screen in almost an instant.

Saeran... Saeran was somehow involved in this.

In what manner, he didn’t know. But clearly, this hacker, who was unbelievably and scarily efficient, didn’t want him to know.

He... he needed to call V.

V. The man’s name was starting to feel like a bitter taste in his mouth.

But first, he needed to get back into contact with MC. He hoped to God that she was alright, but he also knew better. For the sake of MC, and for the sake of Saeran, he needed to find the truth. He needed to find them before-

Connection Restored

Saeyoung didn’t even have time to breathe as he frantically opened MC’s contact and hit ‘call’. It was definitely going through. He’d broken through the hacker’s code, and the phone rang on the other end. He felt like a statue, completely and utterly still.

There was no answer.

[ourvanishingghosts]

Could I possibly get some gordie content. I'll take any fluff you can come up with ♡

Okay sure. I also couldn’t find the gif that I previously used for Gordie and I couldn’t find any gifs of him on the gif keyboard that’s on my phone. Which makes me sad because just look at his fashion. Such an icon! Anyways, I made the reader gender neutral and from Paldea. The Pokémon team I came up with for this one consists of Dachsbun, Houndstone, Shiny Mabosstiff, Farigiraf, Annihilape, and Skeledirge. I had a hard time picking one of the new starters. They’re all cute. And the reader is above the age of 20.

True Loves Gym Leader

Gordie never believed in true love because of how much time he spent working as a Gym Leader and spending some of that with his mother Melony. He wasn’t the type of guy to settle down with someone unless he had to.

That was until a new challenger passed his gym test. They used Pokémon that he has never seen before. They didn’t beat him. The challenger and himself met in the middle of the battlefield and shook hands.

“I hope that you come back to challenge me again sometime.”

He say’s trying to sound cool and confident. Alas, the challenger chortled at his attempt.

“I would love nothing more than to face off against the suave rock gym leader.”

They retaliated and they exited the building to go heal their team. Gordie was left standing in the battlefield stunned and feeling his face reddening. Luckily that was his last battle of the day and so he went to the one person who he talk to about his situation. Melony.

He was sitting on the couch in his mothers house trying to the best of his capabilities to describe what had happened.

“They made me feel like there were Butterfrees in my gut after they said that and left. Like I don’t know what to do because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Melony just chuckled at her son

“You’re in love, Sweetheart. And that’s not a bad thing either. If you’re happy then I’m happy.”

He looks at his mother and smiles

“Thanks mom. You’re the best.”

~Flash forward to about a year after you finally beat Gordie~

You and Gordie were wandering around Circhester. Gordie was asking questions about your team and your hometown.

“Well, Dachsbun has always been the gentle boy of the group. Houndstone is the one who everyone goes to since she’s always relaxing. Mabosstiff on the other hand is always on the lookout. She wants to protect everyone from danger. You better watch out for Farigiraf or he will try and take your food. Especially if it’s one of his favorites. Annihilape and Skeledirge are inseparable from each other since most are either scared or unnerved by how intense they look. But I love all of them equally.”

He smiles while he listens intently to what you’re saying. Not realizing he’s basically staring at you.

“Gordie, are you alright? You’ve been staring at me for three minutes now.”

He shakes his head

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“Haha. Very funny. But can I though?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Will you be my partner? Like romantically?”

Both of your faces are now as red as your Skeledirge. Then you smile so big that your face might hurt later.

“I’d love too. I’ve actually had a crush on you since the first day we met.”

“Really? I had a crush on you since then too.”

You two share your first kiss and then head back to his place. After a month of dating, he introduces you to Melony and she thinks you are amazing. She loves you and Gordie together. She will spoil your Pokémon every time she watches them while you two are out.

[sculptural-renaissance]

SGU Week Day 7 (Yeah I skipped 6, I think I mentioned my fave eps indirectly a few times): Found Family

Colonel Young was definitely father figure to some of the younger men on board, so in the memes I make, he has definitely adopted the "Dad" role. I usually photoshop the name on his uniform to say "DAD" instead of "YOUNG" because I am that kind of neurodivergent lmao

So here's some Colonel Dad for ya~

My choir teacher told me this joke in grad school and I haven't gotten over it.

I may be in the minority, but I like this ship. I wasn't sold either way until I saw their alternate future in Epilogue, and later after reading an interview from Alaina Huffman where she talked about her thoughts on the pairing. Definitely swayed me in support of TJ being the Hot Stepmom of this little family. ❤️‍🩹

This is actually how it all started, me making memes in Facebook messenger about Rick and Morty.

God I'm cringe

Bonus

Maybe he does want to be your "slightly crazy uncle," but he's gonna be a tsundere about it the whole time

There

That's a mental image you have now

You're welcome

☆☆☆

All right, this has been something! Kinda reminds me of all those RWBY art challenges I used to do when I was younger and less busy and less tired. You know, like 4 years ago. It was fun! I'm glad I got to draw again, even if I didn't really have time and was doing it in between putting resin coatings on rings. 😂 Maybe I'll get to draw more in the future. The memes will certainly continue at a breakneck pace. Just gotta post em. I also got to use my new little keyboard because sometimes typing long things on my phone makes me dissociate haha 😅

Also I'm aware SGU week technically over, but I haven't gone to bed yet, so it's definitely still Sunday fight me IRL

[perplexingluciddreams]

19th April

Did your ability to express yourself improve or worsen/deteriorate over time? Or did it stay the same? Is it different depending on how you communicate (spoken language, written language, signed…)?

My expressive language has increased over time, and my communication in general has also increased in accuracy and clarity. I put a lot of work into this (especially when I type, because that can be more challenging than symbol AAC for me), and I’m very proud of myself for how much I’ve accomplished. And most of all I am proud of the work I put in.

I went from not even understanding my own mind enough to know that the scripts that were reflexively spilling out of my mouth meant the opposite of my thoughts - to being able to express myself in writing like I am doing now. It took many years but I’m so relieved to have this level of communication now. There’s still things to work on (for example, remembering that I am able to communicate and that it’s a good thing to do, in a lot of circumstances), but I have come a long way.

I find some forms of communication easier than others, and each of them have benefits and disadvantages. For example, body language/gestures and noises is often the most automatic response for me (and easier because I don’t need language for that), but it’s not accurate and people can easily misinterpret what I mean. BSL is good for quick things because signs, symbols and shapes connect to meanings better in my mind. For face to face communication, I use symbol AAC, which I don’t always form grammatical sentences on, but the symbols help me process my thoughts and transfer them into an understandable message much faster than when I type. But when I do take the time to either type or make full long sentences or passages on AAC, it takes the most effort but gets my thoughts across the most clearly.

Most of my daily communication (other than my posts on here) is on WhatsApp with my mum, and has been for years. Getting my first phone was really the thing that started to unlock my mind to the possibility of real communication (although that tiny keyboard - on a Samsung Galaxy S, I believe - was not the best for my motor skills!).

[hinatastinygiant]

15 | Dr. Henry Jekyll

Pairing: Daichi x Fem!Reader

Only in Whispers

USHIJIMA'S P.O.V.

After Tendo and Kogane get tied up, Tendo begs and pleads me to bring him to justice. He swears that it wasn't him, so I'm forced to believe him.

"I didn't do it, Wakatoshi, please," he begs. "You have to believe me. I didn't kill her. I just stole her necklace."

"Shut up," Kogane tells him, elbowing him in the side. "We just talked about this. No more talking."

"Fine," I sigh. "But where should I look?"

"I don't know?! Why don't you start with that bitch, Y/N. I bet she's hiding something! Yeah! Search her room!" he says frantically.

With a small groan, I agree and walk to her room. I open the door to a dark, empty room so I turn on the light and enter. There, I see Y/N's computer sitting on a desk. Not really sure what I should be looking for, I approach the desk and sit down in front of her computer.

I wiggle the mouse and wake up the screen. Strange coding appears in front of me. It looks like gibberish. But I click around on the keyboard, trying to decipher it.

FLASHBACK ~ Y/N'S P.O.V.

After you leave Kiyoko downstairs to go up and get your work done, you open your computer. But instead of opening up and continuing your newest novel, you continue hacking into your publisher's financial records and accounts. Your goal? To siphon off funds into your own personal accounts while altering transaction records to make it appear as though nothing is amiss.

You continue to click and type and click and type. It takes a long time, so while you wait, you walk into the bathroom attached to your bedroom. When you come back, you see Kiyoko hovering over your computer and looking at your screen.

"Kiyoko?!" you shout at her, shocked. "What the hell are you doing in my room?"

"Uh, sorry," she tells you. "I just wanted to come and see how your book was coming along... but Y/N, this isn't a novel..."

"What?" you gulp. "Of course it is."

"What the hell is this?" she asks, pointing to the screen.

"Fuck, Kiyoko, it's none of your damn business?"

"At least tell me what this has to do with Daichi?" she then asks, holding up your phone which you had stupidly left on the desk as well. She can see the two texts that he had sent you while you walked off. "Don't tell me that you have something to do with why he so-called retired from being a detective?"

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I met him a little while back but it has nothing to do with this," you lie to her.

"Bullshit. I want to hear the truth, Y/N. Tell me."

"Why should I?" you challenge. "I'm not the one who's been keeping secrets from the people in this house, am I?"

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"Tanaka," you huff. "I know you put this whole party together just so you could see him."

"You're wrong," she grumbles, shaking her head. "I didn't do this for him."

"Really? You expect me to believe that? That's such a lie," you continue.

"Stop changing the conversation, Y/N, I can see exactly what you're doing here! You're a fucking thief!" she yells.

"Fine! Fine! Yes, I'm a fucking thief. I'll admit it! I don't need your help. I can handle this on my own, Kiyoko. I've got it covered. Now just go and leave me alone. I have to keep working."

"Y/N, how could I possibly forget this? You're a criminal! You- you could go to jail if someone catches you! You need to stop!" she tells you, still freaking out.

"Kiyoko, listen, this is how I've survived. If you go snitching on me, I will ruin your life, do you understand?"

"Yeah? Like what? You're gonna kill me over money? What a shitty fucking friend. Do this again and I will be a snitch if I have to!"

FLASHBACK ~ THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE KIYOKO'S DEATH

"I can think of something more fun than laying here, if you're down," he suggests, trailing kisses along your jaw and neck while the two of you lay together down on the beach.

"What did you have in mind?" you hum before Daichi leans down and whispers into your ear.

"Let's go deal with that loose end of yours."

"You mean it? You'll actually kill her?" you ask, your eyes widening.

"For you. Anything. So, are you in?"

"You know I am. I thought you'd never ask," you mumble back, biting your lip.

As Daichi stands up, he takes you by the hand and leads you inside. You approach Kiyoko's room and peer inside. There, you see Tanaka hovering over her on the bed.

"Mmm, wait," he then tells her, pulling away from her momentarily. "There's something I need to ask you."

"Ryu, please, I don't want to tell," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"No, no, this is important. I wanted to ask you... Marry me."

"Fuck," Daichi mutters to you.

"Shh," you whisper back.

"Oh, Ryu... I'm sorry but I can't," she says, her voice cracking.

"You can't?"

"No. I can't marry you," she nods, shaking her head.

"Is there a reason why?"

"I don't... want to," she manages to admit to him nervously.

"You're lying," he huffs. "Why?.. Why won't you marry me?"

"Ryu, please don't make this harder than it already is."

"No, you're lying. I know you love me. So why won't you marry me?"

"Ryu, please. If you can't handle this then I think you should go," Kiyoko sighs, sitting up as he shifts away from her and starts to cry.

It's then that the two of you run into the next room to hide until Tanaka rushes off to god only knows where. Then, once he is gone, you can confront Kiyoko alone.

"Well, that didn't go very well," Daichi shrugs.

"He'll get over it. It's not the end of the world," you tell him. "Let's go."

You enter Kiyoko's room just as your friend finishes getting dressed. Daichi carefully shuts and locks the door, using a tissue to make sure his fingerprints don't taint the crime scene. Then, as you talk to her, he goes through her drawers until he finds a pair of gloves that fit.

"I'm sorry it had to turn out this way," you sigh. "But damn, you're the one who came up with the idea. If you kept your mouth shut none of this would have to happen."

"No, no," she gulps. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Don't kill me. We're friends."

"I'm sorry, too," Daichi says, walking up behind her and wrapping his large hands around her throat. Mere moments later, he's got her lying back down in her bed and the two of you run off to Daichi's room to have a bit of fun relief from the tense situation.

"She's dead," Daichi smiles, panting a bit as he lays back down in bed beside you.

"And nobody will ever figure it out," you tell him.

"At least, not in time. You told Tendo about the necklace, right?" he asks you.

"Even better. I told him where it was. If he takes it, we can pin it on him."

"Clever. What a devious mind. But what are you going to do about the necklace?"

"Hell if I know. He could keep it for all I care."

Only in Whispers

[l-polarisb-l]

Act 2: Damage Control

12:02 pm,

Vallard Company- CUBE, Legal Division.

Taylor straightened his tie, sipped his coffee, took a deep breath and walked into the room.

Just 8 hours before, he had received a call from the Valard Company, regarding an urgent situation at one of their facilities. Apparently, there had been several casualties, after a power outage. Taylor had been told to report to the Central Universal Board Edifice[CUBE] , to meet with the Committee as they discussed the next action to take.

Taylor walked into the room, where a panel of 7 middle-aged men, women, and three of the Eraba, the native species of the planet, sat at a large table, which was situated on a platform on the other end of the room.

Throughout the rest of the room, various employees sat, their desks covered in miscellaneous files and folders. Some were typing on small mechanical keyboards, others were talking urgently into their desk phones. The sound of rustling paper created a strange tension in the air.

Taylor took a seat in one of the rows of chairs in the back of the room, and waited for the meeting to begin.

[Dr. Weston Lancaster]

“I’d like to thank you all for your patience. It has been a very challenging time for us recently, and I apologize for any inconvenience caused by this.

I believe an explanation is in order. As many of you know, there was an incident that occurred at Lāzhausen Research Center last night. The situation has stabilized, and we can now relay confirmed information regarding the incident without running into speculation.

Last night, at um, approximately 10:57 PM, a power outage occurred in the Lāzhausen Center and it’s surrounding areas. We are unsure as to what caused the incident, but it appears it was an oversight on the power supplier’s side.

Now, as many of you know, Lāzhausen was not an ordinary research facility. It was the site of Project A-K 01, a highly classified research operation.

Due to the power outage, Project A-K 01 escaped containment. There were 7 casualties.”

Gasps of shock rippled through the room.

[Dr. Weston Lancaster]

Due to the severe circumstances, we sent in one of our mercenaries to assist the remaining guards. He managed to neutralize the experiment, but unfortunately he was the sole survivor.

The mercenary has already been interviewed by our staff in order to make sense of what exactly happened.

Apparently, Project A-K 01 was a highly illegal research operation. Now, we in the board had no knowledge of this, nor did we approve any of it. But if word were to get out, the entire company could face serious consequences.

It was Taylor’s turn to speak. Just 2 hours earlier, he had discussed with the board over a phone call. He stood, and walked to the front of the room, standing at a podium to the left of the stage.

[Dr. Weston Lancaster]

I will now let Mr. Taylor Anderson take the wheel.

Taylor stood straight, and began to talk.

[Taylor]

“Due to the… severity of this situation, and the possible impact on the company, the board and I have come to the conclusion that we cannot let word about this get out.”

Someone stood up in the back of the room.

[unnamed individual]

“What exactly are you suggesting we do?”

[Taylor]

“Well, to put it simply… we are going to orchestrate a cover-up.”