#wc: 461

[lgcyushin]

▶▶ LOADING … any progress is good progress ( workshop solo )

as it was his first time hosting a workshop, he was immensely grateful that he could bounce ideas back and forth with insung. there's been some group sessions and one on one's for yushin to check in after the initial introduction of the workshop. people often act and grow differently - some better solo due to personality traits, and some who flourish in a unit. he can barely think back to how he was as a trainee. it's strange. and he's not envious at all to be in the position of a trainee again, but he did remember enjoying attending workshops. it's surreal to be hosting one though...

"you know, i wasn't sure if the trainees were particularly interested in being rappers specifically, but ones who were willing to improve on it. and i can relate to that because i was in a similar position as a trainee and idol. if you asked me as a trainee, i would have never thought i'd be pegged to be the main rapper of my group," a position he's held proudly for years now. "and i think that's where a lot of them come from too, at least with this roster. better at singing... or dancing... but there was the intrigue and understanding that rap has a completely different energy that is applied to the same song. i don't need them to be or want to be the rapper of a group. but its a nuance that is often missed for an opportunity if not explored. perhaps an advantage of the main vocal of the next hot group would be that the main vocal can also cut it as a lead rapper but that's going a bit too far in the future, let me wind it in a little."

since all the trainees were getting the hang of the task at hand right now, he wonders what type of evaluation would be the best. "i know im not expecting any freestyle or anything like that," because it's definitely not the point of yushin's workshop to begin with, "but i wonder if it would be better to give them an element of surprise with a completely contrasting song or lyrics sheet, or if.... we can give them something that makes sense so that it doesn't throw them off too much." this workshop isn't about punishment but growth after all. "although it would be perhaps more familiar if it was a song from legacy's discography already.... or maybe i could whip up a simple melody but i also don't want it to be too simple. what if i think of a few examples and send them over to you in a day or so, and you can let me know what we ought to ultimately decide on?"

[beholdenning]

HOLZPÜPPCHEN, DREH DICH.

dancer mastery.

the first time they hear music is stowed away in the bowels of a ship, echoes of festivities reaching them in the hold. the noise is simply noise, at first, mingling with laughs and shouts and off-key singing, with the stamp of boots and the clap of hands. at first, it is simply noise— bright yet droning, hammering and humming.

then they hear it— underlying repetitions, logics that break apart with the crack of a voice or a note off-tone. they had been listening before. they are listening now.

it is fine when they are excluded from the next time, brought above deck, because they are still listening. they can watch as they listen. feet stamp just off-rhythm, running after something mortal limbs cannot capture to perfection, swaying drunkenly and moving raucously, a constant throng of bodies.

the music pauses, but it does not stop. towns, inns, festivals, bards. has started up anew every time, even if from elsewhere, even if in a different form, ever those harmonies in patterns. strings draw them in closest, the raking of a bow across them, setting them aquiver with sound. a cello's tone, a chord plucked, a fold strung along the width of the larynx.

and everywhere they watch, people move to the music, sway to the drum, run after the scales, spin with the beat and arpeggios. not all of these movements are wholly random, though just as curiously devoid of meaning: still, sometimes, it quietly follows. a porcelain step, a hand thrown wide, a puppet wound for glossy choreography.

even in this, the music-box ballerina spins at the winding of a key, the marionette dances at the end of strings, an imitation at greater hands. that key is pushed deep into its spine. at the end of those strings, denning dangles.

denning has always dangled. swaying like willow-branches, swaying to the tick of a master metronome; no step out of beat, no note out of order, ever at the end of greater strings, greater things. it has only never looked like dangling because the puppetmaster always knew where, how, when to direct it.

it is dangling, now, readily apparent, head lolling, arms limp, legs bending oddly as it is dragged along the floor. paint chips and peels against imperfections in the aged marble floors. the marionette suffers for its disuse, misuse, doesn’t it?

the marionette, the puppet, the ventriloquist's plaything. isn’t it?

but they dance. even though they do not understand, even though they do not see the point. even when it lies so wholly outside of function that their paint chips and their limbs wear. they hear the music, they see the movement, they mimic, follow, as always.

it will pause, inevitably. but it will start again.

it must start again.

[eunbinbe]

˙ ˖ ✧ — DREAMWAVE CALLBACK. aka eunbin performs a self-choreographed routine / note: not a direct reference, purely linked for inspo vibes & whatnot!

truthfully, eunbin hadn't been expecting a callback. so when she receives the call about coming to audition, she quickly begins to think about what she should showcase. since she mentioned that her strength was dancing and choreographing her own routines, it only made sense that that's what she'll have to prepare.

when it came to coming up with a routine, she went back to her list of strengths. what were her strengths? well, she had a pretty broad background when it came to dance. the ballet lessons from when she was a baby that evolved into jazz dance lessons and then eventually cheerleading. all of those required big movements and sharp lines. that was still one of her strengths today. all her moves had power behind them, and she knew when to emphasize certain parts of choreography.

however, she also knew she wasn't the best when it came to hip hop choreography, so that would be a pass. she'd need to come up with something that showcased her charms as well. something that appeared more lovely yet powerful at the same time. she boasted so much about her cheerleading experience, but eunbin doubts any trainer at a kpop company wants to see a straight on cheerleading routine. that's why she had to mesh all of these together to, hopefully, provide them with the best of the best.

the routine that she eventually comes up with falls on the lovelier and more feminine side, if she had to choose a couple of words to describe it, but there were still some powerful footwork moves that she incorporated along with some upper body movement. again, her strengths fell in being precise and strong with her moves, but she didn't want to do a style that didn't fit her image.

on the day of the audition, she walks into a room to be met with a couple of judges. she's gone through this before both when she applying for college and the cheer squad, so she's not super nervous, but she can't tell what they're exactly expecting from her.

"hello. i'm shin eunbin, and i will be performing a self-choreographed dance routine. thank you!" she introduced herself first before giving them the cue to start playing the song snippet she's prepared.

a minute really isn't a long time, and it was pretty difficult trying to fit what she could in that minute. the experience is over before she can even register it in her mind, and she finds herself saying goodbye as she steps out of the room.

letting out a sigh, all she can do now is wait. if they call her back, great. if they don't, then she'll just have to move on with her life and wait for the next time.

[kouxbe]

songwriting solo

he's never been particularly attracted to things that don't seem to peak his interest. it's really just the way kou is built, and sort of the way he's gone about his whole life.

it isn't a compulsory lesson, targeted more towards trainees that felt like picking up a new interest. and usually, kou would've passed a lesson like this over, happy with his own musical ability with his guitar. still, there's something lingering within him, a curiosity he can't seem to quench anywhere else. the violin.

it isn't like kou is particularly enthralled by the idea of classical music, but more so he's been captivated by the violin. no, he's been captivated by someone playing the violin. not that it matters ( it does ), either way, it's something that's been at the back of his mind – and what better way to learn more about it than well... now?

there aren't too many trainees, he assumes the others have decided to go for other instruments, guitars, bass, drums, etc. he stands there and looks at the instructor.

she isn't very pretty. and as she plays the violin, she looks nothing like yuwol. there's something so different about the way they carry themselves – when kou watches yuwol play the violin, he feels as though his heart is being carried with him and taken to wherever yuwol is.

but as he watches the coach place her bow against the strings of the violin, he doesn't feel much. it simply feels like sounds. he misses yuwol all of a sudden.

"so, can you all share why you chose to learn the violin?" it's a little bit like an ice breaker. which isn't too bad, except kou's never been the most ... enthusiastic person – known to be expressionless, with a rather deadpanned way of speaking.

soon enough it's his turn and he blinks before answering. "uh well," he can't exactly say that he's here because the boy he's in love with plays the violin. talk about a one way ticket out of sr media. but kou's never been a good liar.

"oh well," he begins, "there's a... musician i admire. and they play the violin," which is true. mostly. "i went to a few shows and thought that it looked really interesting. i like the way the sound of the violin sort of... brings every other instrument to life."

there's silence for a moment before the coach nods her head, as though in understanding. "that's right! the violin is a beautiful instrument."

she's right, it really is.

kou settles in his seat, as she continues – soon enough they're given actual violins, and as kou places the bow onto the surface of the strings, a face appears, and he wonders if one day yuwol's heart would travel towards him.

[behaneul]

TAKE A POSE in which haneul becomes a makeup guru

     honestly, when he sees the ‘1′ pop up in his dms to show that he has a message from someone he doesn’t follow, he doesn’t think much of it. he actually entirely forgets about it for a day or so before he’s doom-scrolling through his explore page while laying in bed, pre-nap and suddenly remembers it. 

     and it immediately sounds like a scam. haneul isn’t sure why he decides to message back, but maybe it’s because the makeup brand is one that he thinks he’s heard of before. 

     after a bit of back and forth with chanhee, he decides that he trusts the guy enough to give his address for the items to be sent to. (he hopes seojun doesn’t see the box, just in case it really is a scam.) he goes on the website and checks the colour matches and tells the guy what shade he wants the tinted moisturizer in.

      and then he forgets about it all over again once he’s gotten the tracking number. 

     true to korea’s great shipping times, he gets the box about two days later and haneul is pleasantly surprised when he opens the box and sees the tinted moisturizer he had been promised, along with a small thing of concealer, a tinted lip balm and a cushion blush. he reads the handwritten note and grins a bit to himself, thinking that he’s glad he had responded to the message instead of ignoring it like he had originally wanted to.

     he goes to wash his face (it had been a long day at the dance studio) and he sits down in front of his mirror after doing his skincare, staring at the products. he wouldn’t say he’s the best at applying his own makeup but he had been told tinted moisturizers are easy to do on your own even without experience, so he grabs a makeup sponge and gets to work.

     everything ends up looking pretty good, if he does say so himself, and he tries everything that they had given him. he didn’t have much to conceal, but he had watched a few makeup tutorials on youtube and used the concealer to brighten areas that needed brightening (whatever that meant!)

     actually, his favourite thing is the tinted lipbalm and he makes a mental note to put it into his bag so he can use it more. it’s not too much colour, and he thinks that all of it ends up being pretty nice. it’s all easy to apply and it’s comfortable, not unlike some of the looks he had been given on next gen. it’s nice, and he writes a nice review in his instagram caption while also giving his code.

     he’s not mad about getting free products, honestly. especially free good products.

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO! (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 461 (teaser); 7.1k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: september 12th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: this is mostly word vomit but i enjoyed writing jk's character for this one<3

masterlist

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

...

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[charlesxavierthirster3000]

Denim — C. Xavier

Pairing: 60s (First Class)!Charles Xavier x GN!Reader

Summary: Charles takes you out, but you're quite the fussy shopper. (Pls spare me idk how to write summaries 😥)

CW/Tags: suggestive content, pre-beach divorce Charles, no use of Y/N (there never will be on my blog), don't like don't read.

A/N: Huzzah guys I'm finally writing !!!! This prolly won't get much traction bc it's not Logan but fuck it we ball 🔥🔥 This has been rotting in Docs for like a week and I just finished it like 15 mins ago so here we go.. 😁 Also I wrote this as Fem!Reader in mind but I realised it could be GN so I'll just put it as that :3

WC: 461 / Navigation

Divider credits (They're so cute istg bro) here and here

Charles Xavier was not your sugar daddy. He could believe he was all he wanted, but your very minimal amount of dignity drew the line at that title.

The man could buy you everything you ever even thought of — which was fairly easy, considering his mutation — yet you wouldn't admit it even if you had 8 fully loaded AK-47s pointed at your face.

“Just get it, for God's sake,” Charles drawled, nodding at the pair of mid-blue bootcut jeans you'd been fawning over for what felt like half his lifetime. 

When you give the gorgeous denim another doubtful up-down, he gets up from his concerningly squeaky stool bordering the men’s section and reaches for your wrist.

“It would take immense effort to make me go bankrupt, sweetheart.” He places his credit card in your palm, gently forcing your fingers over it with a short smile. It's not the first time he's done this, and it most definitely won't be the last.

“I have a pair just like thi—” you try to argue weakly, but the gloved hand over your mouth leaves you no choice but to shut your gob. God, this man was direct.

“Uh-uh, not hearing it. We both know exactly how much you want it. End of discussion. Go pay.” 

He carefully nudges you forward in the direction of the distant cashier, but you blatantly refuse to move an inch. He stares incredulously at the back of your head and you have to bite back a laugh beneath the confines of his palm. 

You should’ve expected it, but the British in your brain still catches you by surprise. Damn colonizers.

“Get the damn pants. Your ass would look lovely in them,” he pats your ass with his free hand as punctuation, attempting to urge you forward yet again.

“All you care about is my ass,” you retort mentally.

“Yes and no. It's definitely up there.”

“I'm gonna bite you.”

“Kinky. But keep it in your shorts ‘til we get back, yeah?”

He takes his hand off your face and gets out of your head. You whip your head around to silently complain at him, but he's staring right back at you with a smile that, to the normal person, would look as if he'd done no wrong. But to you, it was only making your situation worse.

The same smile which was pissing you off in ways you didn't even think possible morphs into a genuine laugh delivered softly, and for God's sake, you can't keep your stomach from doing a brief flip at the sound.

“Fine. Pretend you don't want them. But you're going to pay with my card, and I'll show you exactly how much you won't regret buying them when we get back to my office.”

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Just a Taste (Tony stark one shot)

Summary: tony finds out his most trust advisor poisoned you, the love of his life.

Warnings: poison,death

WC: 461

Read on Ao3!

--

The room spun in slow circles, and the edges of your vision blurred. You gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as the world tilted. Tony's voice cut through the fog, sharp and filled with concern.

"Hey! What's going on? You don't look too good."

You tried to respond, but the words were tangled in your throat. A cold dread settled in your chest, spreading like ice through your veins as the realization hit you.

“Tony…” you managed to croak, your voice weak, “…I think I've been poisoned.”

Tony's eyes widened behind his signature tinted glasses, and he stepped toward you, reaching out instinctively to steady you. "Poisoned?" His voice wavered between disbelief and immediate worry, searching your face for some sort of explanation. "By who? How do you—"

The bitter taste still clung to your tongue, the faint trace left from your drink. You had barely taken a sip before you felt the effects. But you knew the truth—knew it from the familiarity of the taste.

You met Tony’s eyes, fighting the waves of nausea crashing through your system. “Your most trusted advisor has poisoned you.”

For a split second, the room was silent. Then Tony let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor behind it. "My most trusted advisor?” His face darkened, the mask of confidence he always wore slipping. "That would be you."

A pit formed in your stomach, both from the venom seeping through your system and the look in his eyes—betrayal.

“I didn’t—” you started, but the room swayed again, and you could hardly focus on anything but the pounding in your head.

Tony’s hand shot out, catching you before you could fall. He held you close, his face a mixture of fear and something else, something darker. "Who did this?" His voice was low, deadly serious now. "Tell me."

You fought to keep your eyes open, the world around you dimming at the edges. “It wasn’t me,” you whispered. “It’s—it’s someone close.”

Tony’s jaw clenched, but his grip tightened protectively around you. “I’ll fix this,” he muttered, his mind already racing ahead. “Stay with me, okay? I’m getting you out of here.”

You tried to focus on his words, tried to cling to the warmth of his voice, but the poison was pulling you under. Still, you knew one thing for sure—someone within the walls of Stark Tower was playing a dangerous game. And they had just drawn first blood.

[hyuckwrlds]

>> knowing you

wc: 461 i wish i got to love you longer

“When we were fourteen, Haechan put a cicada in my hair and blamed it on Jaemin.”

“What?” you laugh, looking at Jeno from where you’re standing beside the stove. “So he’s always been like that?”

“To an extent,” he grins, turning away from the opened window to lean against the counter next to you. The scent of your body wash hangs around him and you wonder how long he's been using yours instead of his. “I think he’s worse now, actually.”

In the distance, a cicada chrips and you stir the boiling pot of ramen, musing. You could’ve sworn you took an egg out for Jeno earlier but you can’t seem to find it now.

“When I was fourteen, I told my crush I liked him and had a piece of broccoli stuck in my braces the whole time.”

He winces, taking a sip from his store-bought bottle of lemon tea. “Rough. What’d he say?”

“He rejected me on the spot.”

Jeno clicks his tongue. “His loss. I would’ve loved to get a confession from you like that.”

The thought makes you snort. “I dunno, I was kind of a mess at fourteen—”

“Who wasn’t?”

“You,” you say pointedly, waving your chopsticks at him. “I’ve seen the pictures.”

He snickers, folding his arms across the front of his old Nike sweatshirt. The collar is slightly damp from his still-wet hair. “That doesn't mean anything. I was weird at fourteen too.”

“You didn’t have neon green braces and a stupid haircut that you cut yourself.”

“No, but I had a bowl cut and wire glasses," he adds, with a tilt of his head. “I think that’s pretty comparable.”

“Still...” you roll your eyes. A breeze drifts in through the window and when you look over at him, your heart softens. Even in his pajamas he’s still so attractive that briefly, you think about what it would have been like to know him back then, too.

“I think I would’ve been terrified to talk to you when we were fourteen.”

“Why?” he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. When you don’t immediately reply, he takes your forearm to pull you into him, holding you to where all you can feel is him. Only him.

He hums. “I would’ve loved you, you know. Even with broccoli in your teeth.”

Groaning, you tuck your head beneath his chin and press your cheek to the muscle of his chest. You don’t fight him (mainly because he's warm against the night air) but make it a point to pout nonetheless.

“That’s a very bold statement you're making, babe.”

“’m serious, though,” he starts, lips brushing against your hairline before he’s pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“I think I’d love you in every timeline.”

[amalythea]

「 but does he really know me when the lights are on? 」

⤷ info: diluc & childe x gn!reader (separate) || angsty fic hehe || wc: 544 & 461 respectively

⤷ warnings: diluc n childe are a tad bit neglectful of their lovers bc theyre busy, mentions of childe's real name (does this even count as a warning), i tried to make this extra angsty as a treat for you guys <3

⤷ extra: i used the prompt i. “but does he really know me when the lights are on?” from @thexianzhoujade 's personal memoires (of the dearly beloved) event!! thank you so much to @mei-sm for proofreading!!

diluc.

As the owner of the renowned Dawn Winery, your lover's days were consumed by the meticulous tasks of wine-making and managing the estate. Diluc was a man of dedication, his every waking moment dedicated to upholding his family's legacy.

But amidst the clinking of glasses and the rustle of grapevines, there existed a longing within Diluc—a longing for companionship, for someone to share his burdens and his joys. It was in the quiet moments of the night, as he gazed out over the vineyards, that this longing weighed heaviest upon him.

Then, amidst the chaos of his busy life, you came into his world like a breath of fresh air. You who seemed to understand Diluc in a way no one else could. Your encounters were fleeting yet profound, each stolen moment leaving Diluc yearning for more.

Despite his limited time, Diluc cherished every second he spent with you. He memorized the curve of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight. In his mind, he constructed an image of you—a flawless portrait of a person he believed he knew inside and out.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Diluc's time grew ever scarcer. His duties at the winery demanded more of him, leaving little room for anything else. Yet, in the rare moments you shared, Diluc clung to the illusion of intimacy he had built in his mind.

One evening, as you sat together beneath the stars, your voice broke the silence. "Diluc," you said softly, your gaze searching his face, "do you truly believe you know me?"

Caught off guard by your question, Diluc faltered. "Of course, I do," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I know you better than anyone."

But your eyes held a sadness he had not seen before. "But do you?" you murmured, your words hanging heavy in the air. "Do you know the dreams I keep hidden in the depths of my heart? Do you know the fears that haunt me in the darkness of night?"

Diluc felt a pang of guilt deep within him. Despite his love for you, he realized that his knowledge of you was only surface-deep. He knew your smile, your laughter, your outward demeanor—but the depths of your soul remained a mystery to him.

In that moment, the realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Despite his best intentions, despite his unwavering devotion, he had failed to truly know the one he loved. And as he looked into your eyes, he saw the truth reflected back at him—the heartbreaking realization that your connection was built on a foundation of illusion.

Tears welled in your eyes as you rose to your feet, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things were different, Diluc," you whispered, your words heavy with sorrow. "But I fear that we are destined to remain strangers, even as lovers."

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Diluc alone beneath the stars, his heart heavy with regret. For in that moment, he knew that despite his best efforts, he had let the one he loved slip through his fingers, never truly knowing you as he had believed.

childe.

In the heart of Liyue Harbor, beneath the grandeur of the illuminated archways and amidst the bustling streets, Childe found himself entangled in the mess of his own making. The weight of his duties pressed upon him like a leaden cloak, consuming his days and nights in a relentless pursuit of power and influence. Amidst the political machinations and secret dealings, there was but one respite for him – the presence of his lover.

Your relationship was an affair hidden behind veils of secrecy and deception. Childe reveled in the moments stolen away from the prying eyes of the world, where he could lose himself in the warmth of your embrace. Yet, even in your most intimate moments, there lingered an unspoken question, a whisper of doubt that haunted your thoughts.

Despite his professed affection, Childe remained a stranger in many ways, his mind consumed by the ceaseless demands of his position within the Fatui. He spoke in riddles, his words veiled in ambiguity, leaving you to decipher the depths of his intentions.

As the nights grew longer and the shadows darker, you found peace in the silence between you, a quiet refuge from the chaos of your intertwined lives. But beneath the facade of understanding, doubts festered, like seeds sown in barren soil, their roots entwined with the fragile threads of your bond.

One night, as the city slept beneath a blanket of stars, your doubts could no longer be silenced. With tears glistening in your eyes, you uttered the words that had long lingered unspoken between the two of you.

"Do you truly know me, Ajax?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath upon the wind. "Or do you see only the shadows of who I am, cast by the light of your own desires?"

For a moment, Childe was speechless, the weight of your words bearing down upon him like a crushing weight. In the silence that followed, he searched your eyes for answers, but found only the reflection of his own uncertainty staring back at him.

"I... I thought I knew you," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But perhaps... perhaps I was mistaken."

With those words, the fragile bonds that held you together shattered like glass, leaving nothing but shards of regret in their wake. In the cold light of dawn, you turned away, leaving Childe to face the emptiness of his own solitude.

Alone amidst the ruins of your shattered love, Childe found himself haunted by the echoes of your parting words. In the depths of his heart, he knew that he had lost more than just a lover – he had lost a piece of himself, forever hidden in the shadows of what might have been.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[soshirohoshinasimp]

the journal

@imthecosmicbasball

tw: mild swear words

Wc: 461

genre: secret admirder, fluff

sorry for any mistakes, I speedran this fan fic on my phone. 4

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

“Every moment spent with you feels like a beautiful dream I never want to wake from. Your laughter reverberates through my soul, and your smile brightens even the gloomiest of days. Thoughts of you consume my mind incessantly; I ache to hear your voice and behold the sparkle in your eyes filled with joy," you wrote quietly in your soft pink journal, its pages adorned with sketches of Vice Captain Hoshina, your unattainable crush.

Yes, you were hopelessly in love with him, though you kept this burning passion veiled behind a facade of icy composure. No outward expression would betray your deep-seated emotions; instead, you buried yourself in work as a coping mechanism.

Your workstation in the tech department was strategically placed near Hoshina's office, affording you frequent glimpses of him—exactly as you secretly desired. But why did you love him so desperately?Why did you want him so urgently?

For one, he had saved your life years ago—an indelible mark on your heart. Strike One

 Despite neglecting basic needs like food, water, and sleep in favor of work, it was a routine that concerned even him. Caught once arriving at 4 AM after toiling until 11 PM, Hoshina scolded you gently, "Get some rest, Y/N-chan. It's not good for ya." His concern, coupled with those caring words, sent you spiraling into a whirlwind of 'what ifs,' your cheeks flushing with hidden embarrassment. Strike two

Then there was his infectious laughter and perpetual sunshine aura that brightened your every day, and of course, his undeniable cuteness that rendered you weak-kneed. Strike three.

You loved him to the extent you would willingly face a bullet—or even a meteor—for him.

The best part? He remained oblivious to your feelings. (If he knew, it's all over.) —until today.

During lunch break, while socializing outside your department, disaster struck. A neglected tear in your backpack became the unwitting gateway for your journal to slip through. Panic surged as Vice Captain Hoshina, wielding your unmistakably pastel pink journal, questioned aloud, "Does anyone recognize this journal?"

Silence descended like a shroud. He checked each person's handwriting, inching closer to your desk. The door swung open just as he neared, and you walked in to find him holding your journal—your worst nightmare unfolding in a span of mere minutes. "H-hey, that's mine!" you blurted out, lunging forward to snatch it from his grasp, heart pounding. You shoved it straight into your backpack, displaying a wide range of emotions like embarrassment and close to tears. 

"So... I brighten every day of your darkest days?" he teased with a mischievous smirk.

Oh fuck no. 

He had read it.

At that moment, as mortification began to engulf you, you wondered if it was too late to volunteer as kaiju bait.

[v1neyy]

Kiss ask box thngy

skizzpulse 18 - an “impulse”ive kiss and/or 21 - a kiss to shut them up >:3

These two have been eating away at my brain recently omfg. Sorry this isn’t my best work it was written at 2am while deliriously tired!!!

Skizz/Impulse - #18 & 21, an impulsive kiss and a kiss to shut them up.

WC: 461 || original post!

—————

Impulse wakes up to the redstone of his door opening. He checks his communicator, blinking from the harsh light to see it’s the middle of the night. Who is coming over at this hour?

As if on cue, his bedroom door opens to reveal Skizz. The angel looks rather disheveled- his wings messy and pajamas wrinkled. He sits up and rubs his eyes, “Skizz?”

He looks to the floor guiltily, “Sorry, I- I can go I just…”

Despite being tired he smiles the best he can. Impulse waves him over sluggishly. This isn’t a common occurrence, but it’s certainly not a new one.

They’ve done this time and time again in their hardcore worlds. Sometimes one of them needs the comfort of having the other close, and that comfort will always be provided. After many years of that time having to be over a call, on Hermitcraft they share a bed more often than not. He doesn’t mind though- waking up wrapped in a mess of limbs and feathers is something he’s grown to love.

Which is why it’s concerning that Skizz has sat on the edge of the bed instead of lying down. He looks nervous and his wings are twitching - Impulse has to stop himself from reaching out to fix them.

Impulse is used to being able to read Skizz like a book, but he can’t quite tell what’s going on here. It’s worrying.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up to face the other.

Skizz takes a deep breath, “I need to tell you something. But you might hate me after,”

He blinks. “I’d never hate you, what’s got your feathers in a bunch?”

The angel looks as if he’s on the verge of tears. “I like you. Not like, in a friend way, like actually like. But you’re my buddy and I don’t want to lose you, and-“

It’s as if the world has slowed down. He likes Impulse?

The realization hits him like a truck, his face immediately heating up like it’s on fire.

The rambling comes back into focus as he snaps out of it. “…If you want me to leave, which I’m sure you do, I can head out, I-“

Impulse cuts Skizz off with a chaste kiss on the lips. He isn’t thinking, all he knows is Skizzleman likes him and he needs Skizz as close to him as possible right now or he will explode.

His senses come back to him a moment after. “Shoot, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, you were just rambling and..” The words in his mouth die off when Skizz breaks into a smile and is looking at him as if he just raised the sun.

All the anxiety shuts up at once as he’s pulled into another kiss.

[tamas-love]

（ 제목 ）ARE YOU?

PRESENT⠀⟡​⠀in which, you got a call in the middle of the night from your classmate kim sunoo..

（ 선우 ） — pairing = fem!reader x classmate!sunoo ୨୧ warning = none whatsoever, just a 'scary' or 'eery' vibes ୨୧ wc = 461

a/n : i tried to make another eery one-shot! our cutie sunoo this time.. +i'll be writing the requests in my inbox real soon!

click me! ↓

ㅤ𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒, the ringing is continuous. And it's slowly getting annoying. A phone call this late..? You push your blanket off of your legs, slowly getting up and stopping by the kitchen to turn on the lights.

ㅤYour feet hitting the cold floor as you walk to the living room, the floorboards creak under your weight. You remove your hair from your face as you walk into the living room, rubbing your eyes to slowly wash the drowsiness away.

ㅤYou pick up the phone, ear pressed against the cold screen as you hear a familiar voice speak on the other end. 

"You should be asleep by now."

ㅤThe voice says, as he spoke before you could. You rub your eyes in confusion, shaking your head as you assume it's a spammer. "Who is this?" Sighing, you reply. Your tone firm and a little quiet.

ㅤYou slowly recognize the voice, it was Sunoo from school. He was acting very strange though.. you were not sure if this was a prank or something. Why is he calling me at this hour? It's the middle of the night..

ㅤ"It's Sunoo. Don't you know who I am? You see me every day." Sunoo spoke, you felt a smirk in his voice. "Are you alone right now?" He asked, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

ㅤYou gulp, glancing around as you rub your tongue over the roof of your mouth. You felt like someone was watching you, but you still kept the phone up to your ear. "No, I know who you are.."

ㅤYou look out the window, seeing how the curtains were shut before continuing your sentence. "Yeah, I'm alone." You say, looking at the black screen of the TV. Taking the remote and putting it on the shelf.

ㅤ"Are you sure you're alone? Is there really no one in your house right now?" You did not know what Sunoo's plan was. It was not normal that someone would call you so late, and the person didn't really have a reason to call you.

ㅤYou did not like the feeling you got from the phone call, like Sunoo had other intentions that just speaking to you. You raise your eyebrows, rubbing your arm as you process his words. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"

ㅤ"I'm sure.." You reply nervously, but not letting it show. "Are you really.. sure? That there's no one with you right now?" Sunoo spoke, he was sounding more and more threatening as the phone call continued.

ㅤHe sounded like he was standing just outside the door. You heard a slight breeze through the phone, and you also heard a door creak open. It sounded as if a door nearby was opening and it wasn't just on the phone.

ㅤA low chuckle comes from the phone, he then asks you, his voice sounding as if he was about to walk through the front door,

"Are you sure that the doors are locked?" 

© tamas-love on tumblr, © tamas-love on wattpad ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.⠀⦂ ⠀@nheyri , @uoalirie @moonpri

[heartchoi]

icee ㅡ hn.k

pairing: huening kai x gn!reader

wc: 461

synopsis: midnight convenience store runs with kai !

taehyun assigned you one task, and that was to go to the convenience store, buy snacks, and come straight back.

"look," taehyun sighs exasperatedly. "we don't need a scandal. i was flamed for going to a club for god's sake. i'm twenty-one! at this point, just come back and don't fool around."

although, as you sit under the stars with hueningkai, two icees in hand, you're sure taehyun won't mind if you kill time a little.

"do you want to hear about the time beomgyu almost burned our dorm down?" kai asks. you giggle, "why am i not surprised?" "no, really! it was so crazy, soobin almost cried and yeonjun was about to lose it."

kai explains the story animatedly, and you can't help but realize; he looks so good in the moonlight.

"kai." you call out, snapping him out of his ramble.

"yes?" he replies, finally turning to face you. his eyes are curious, expecting some sort of question or a statement. but it never comes.

you stare at him, eyes slowly moving down to his soft lips. kai follows suit, eyes trailing down to yours. you wonder what it must feel like to have such a plush pair of lips on yours.

it's like you have a magnetic attraction, faces moving closer together, breath fanning hotter on your skin, noses brushing against each other ㅡ and then it happens.

slowly but surely, his lips capture yours in a sweet, endearing kiss. the flesh on his lips are just as soft as you imagined, maybe even softer. kai's slightly calloused hands reaches to caress the skin of your cheek, gently pulling you closer to him as he does so.

your whole face must be on fire, but it doesn't matter. in this moment, it's only you and kai.

it lasted only a minute, but it felt like an eternity when you finally pull away. you can see kai's skin has turned a light shade of pink, barely visible under the pale moonlight. "was that okay?" he asks. "i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable."

you don't give him a verbal response, smiling to yourself as you shake your head. you place another small peck on his lips, and kai is fully flushed by now.

“come on, that kiss was too small. give me another.”

“begging for kisses now, are we?”

“shouldn’t a man in love be subjected to more kisses? give me another~”

taehyun frowns. “you sure took a while.”

hueningkai rolls his eyes. “we got the snacks you wanted, taehyunnie. come get them.” taehyun suspiciously eyes the now quarter-full cups of slushies you have before carefully inspecting the both of you.

“hey… if you have a red slushie… and his is blue… then why are your tongues purple?”

[zeroseuniverse]

Hypothetical

WC: 461

Pairing: OT8 X reader (everyone platonic except Chan.)

“I want Seungmin and Lee Know!” She demanded pointing at the two men who had been watching the conversation take place with amused grins. Chan and his girlfriend had been trying to break the group up into groups so that if anything were to ever happen between them they’d each have their own friends from the group.

“What? no I want Lee Know.” Chan refuted earning an offended look from Seungmin.

“Why don’t you argue for me?” Seungmin wondered, making Chan simply look at him with zero expression.

“Because Lee Know doesn’t make fun of my age. And he cooks all of the time. Also you are the exact same as her, why would I separate you two?”

Fair point, Seungmin deemed in his head before watching the argument continue.

“I want Felix.” Chan added, making his girlfriend look offended.

“Oh hell no you can’t take both Lee Know and Felix.”

“Okay you can have Lee Know then.” Chan huffed with a frown, knowing that Felix was definitely closest to him.

“I want Han.” 

“What?” Jisung asked as he walked into the room to get water looking between the two confused.

“They’re picking who out of the friendgroup they get if they ever get into an argument.” Lee Know explained with an amused grin.

“Why not let us pick a side?” Jisung wondere,  making the two scoff.

“No then it’ll be uneven.” She huffed out, making Jisung look at her oddly.

“It’ll be uneven anyway there are 9 of us.”

“Shit!” The two let out in unison.

“And why can’t we just hang out with you guys separately?” Hyunjin asked, peeking from around the corner he had been hiding behind. 

“You can have Hwang.” She said, looking away from the tall boy to the muscular one in front of her.

“No, I insist you keep him.”

“Hey!”

“I can’t have both Jisung and Hyunjin, they're both dramatic, they're worse together.”

“Honestly in what world would you ever get into an argument? You guys are perfect for each other.”Jeongin wondered, also emerging from his eavesdropping spot with Felix.

“I will battle you to the death for Innie.” She said more determined than any of them had ever seen.

“You aren’t getting Innie!” 

And with that the two broke out into a playful wrestle, each of them trying to make it to the maknae but being held back by the other each time.

“Does this mean we get two Christmas parties?”Changin asked casually as he popped out of the cabinet he wedged himself in. 

And with that the group of 8 calmed down from the banter and instead crashed to the floor laughing watching as the tiny and muscular man tried to wiggle himself out of the confines of the wood.

[feedthepheasants]

begged & borrowed time | gale dekarios ch.18 out!

so i was hoping my tablet would be fixed by now but that is unfortunately ~not the case~ which is so tragic bc i had a little sketch from a moment in this chapter i was hoping to share :( so in lieu of that, i finally decided on a teaser/cut, which you can read below!

Begged & Borrowed Time | Gale Dekarios

18 chapters [ongoing] | WC: 56,480

keep reading blow for a very short preview from chapter 18, "a dance by firelight" | wc: 461

~*~*~*~*~*~

To the hells with the shame; the embarrassment; the fear of his rejection. I shouldn’t care whether he accepts or denies me – though I can’t help my mind from spiraling as the seconds continue to pass in silence. 

Looking up at him, I feel my heart thundering within the cavity of my chest, my stomach threatening to bottom out. My throat has suddenly gone very dry. My eyes flash towards his lips again, then back to his eyes. Gale inches forward, leaning in ever so slightly; I tilt my chin up as far as I can until our lips share breath. I hesitate in anticipation for just a moment, before tenderly pressing my lips to his, any hints of anxiety and fluttering nerves are wiped from my mind. 

There is no Absolute. 

There is no Ketheric Thorm. 

There is no curse, nor a battle to be won. 

At this moment, there is only us. 

Gale’s arms move to snake around my middle as I press my palms to his chest, deepening our kiss. The shape of his lips against mine is new and thrilling and intoxicating, and all I want is more – more of this kiss, more of our bodies touching, more of this feeling. This is the first intimate touch other than my own that I’ve felt since before we were kidnapped onto the nautiloid, and though I try to stifle it, a moan escapes my body from deep within. Gale breaks our kiss with a gasp at the sound, but is quick to return his lips to mine, his hands sliding down to my waist. 

Our lips break again. When we look at one another, Gale’s face reflects the feelings stirring within me; on one hand, I know this should end here, but on the other, I need more. I need him. 

We move in tandem, pressing our lips back together once more. Gale maintains one hand at my waist while his other threads fingers into my hair. I place my hands on either side of his face, his curls dusting my fingertips. Gale’s own moan slips out, and the sound is utterly divine to my ears. My body threatens to melt entirely. Warmth swells in my chest. 

When our lips part a third time, our breathing is heavy. My hands remain on either side of his face. Gale’s fingers still are threaded in my hair, his other hand still warm against my waist. He presses his forehead against mine, our noses brushing against one another. I gulp down the air from his exhales like water. My fingertips trace along the curve of his jaw, and I can’t help another whimper from escaping as I tilt my head to kiss him again.

This time, he pulls away.