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intoloopin · 17 days

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A CHAPTER: THE SHARP AND THE BLUNT (PART 1/2).

tw(s): panic attack. dubious consent (haruki is very weird and forward about initiating sex!). alcohol abuse & alcoholism. semi-smut? (there is making out). miscommunication (a warning because I personally think it's constant and frustrating). insinuation and direct discussions of sexual trauma, abuse by a past partner, abuse of workplace power and stalking. internalized homophobia (in part one, a hint). If I missed anything, please tell me! starring: Lee Hanjae. Fukunaga Haruki. featuring: Dylan Hwang / Hwang Chihoon. Their fellow LOOPiN members (old OT10, no Gyujin, a lot of Beomseok). Delilah Franco. Oh Sunyoung. Choi Sangwon. Blonde Bob Piss Girl (a serious character).

timeline: quick flashback to 2018 | early to the end of mid 2022.

word count: 13,405 words. author's notes: welcome everyone to hanruki fuckery part 1 a.k.a the most frustrating and life draining four months in Hanjae's whole entire life a.k.a big sadness, the piece split into two. this one is over 23K long, and was originally intended to be read in one go but! It Got Too Big. The conclusion will be coming out later this week! prepare for a Haruki all in par with the one in the prologue, which falls in between this mess on the timeline. this is a work of a whole month, but it's also a work of two years: a whole central plot, planned and done. title's from this song! give it a listen once you get trought the bigger picture, maybe, for catharsis purposes. stay safe! remember you deserve to be safe, always!

November 12, 2018.

Hanjae had vowed not to cry anymore when he got this job – in the same vehement way he had promised at twelve that he would no longer make a sound if he wailed after school, face buried under piles and piles of unfinished homework, to medium success, just the right amount of it to call it success.

He could still tear up once in a while, if things got though, and that was it; a clause added after his first exhausting week as a trainee. The number escalated to once every two business days after he was shoved to debut on LOOPiN, out of all the upcoming boy groups there were.

There was a story taunting the New Wave Music corridors back then. Someone did something unspeakable to someone else, and it caused an expulsion, followed by the immediate need for a new rapper, a new dancer. And there was Hanjae; a BBC trainee for three months, far removed from the Boy Of The Week gossip, who couldn’t exactly sing but had great enunciation, and had been dancing before he was even walking…

He cried now, openly, defeated. It had been an awful day for LOOPiN 2on1.

Their short lived promotions had played out like a sunset: a big golden start – so much press, so much momentum, so many views on the ‘Baby Don’t Stop’ dance practice video, where he and Haruki were using plain shirts and even plainer jeans – quickly diluting into the darkest of times – the controversies, LOOPiN first ones, and exclusively about them.

A resurrected Facebook photo of Hanjae on his graduation with a bandage around his hand, matched with the lingering traces of his poorly removed tattoo there painted him as a school delinquent; Haruki’s drop out stories reintroduced him as the big drunken failure of KArts’s international program.

They were going to stop going to music shows, the company had decided that day, and Sangwon told them on the drive back that they had just done their last one. They had gone up on stage as a duo for the last last time.

With a strong sniff, Hanjae unburied his face from in between his knees and looked at his hand, at the faint shape of a badly drawn rose on his skin. His dad had been adamant about getting it out the moment he took a look at it, still involved in protective plastic. He used the little money off his college safe to arrange a laser session that Hanjae skipped. A year later, Hanjae managed to schedule another one with the partial sponsor of MBN, the company he was stuck on before BBC. He had to do it in a shady place, at a bigger cost: bad skin scarring.

His mom had been relieved to see it fade even more nonetheless, up until the black tattoo turned into something that almost looked like a peculiar and old scar, if you didn’t give it a second glance; and no one was ever giving Hanjae a second glance.

“Let that be a lesson,” she told him, nose turned up and away from him. “Don’t jump head on into things again, Lee Hanjae. That’s no way to live. Watch yourself, watch your company. You’re not a kid anymore. Do you have no goals? Do you want nothing for yourself? Are you that selfish? Can’t you think, for once, about something that isn’t–”

Haruki was the one who found him, sitting on the floor, small and tense against the laundry machine, waiting for everyone’s clothes to be cleaned – the member’s, Sangwon’s, the cleaning auntie's aprons she had forgotten on top of the dinner table last week. Cleaning was always his scapegoat way of attending to something, even if very small.

Maybe if the company decided to drop him, he thought, Hanjae could still be around as the dorm’s janitor.

“So you’re not from Seoul,” Haruki said, leaning against the door frame with an air of mischief around him, something light on his step despite it all.

It was a statement, not an ask, because he knew this. It was one of the few trivia points they had exchanged during pauses on music shows or water breaks in between choreography practice – ‘What’s your age? What’s your blood type? How many siblings? Oh, none? You’re so lucky, Hanjae, so lucky. All siblings are demons. You aren’t missing a thing.’

Hanjae didn’t even startle; Haruki often popped up at places like that, picking up conversations from days, weeks ago like they were merely put on pause.

Without uttering a word and barely looking up, he still nodded his head no.

Haruki nodded back, a pacifying smile showing up on his face, said, “Cool. Great. How about I show you a place?”

‘The place’, he informed Hanjae, was not all that nice, or clean, and he really shouldn’t wear nice shoes or nice clothes tonight, but at least it wasn’t far, at least they had permission.

“Who’s permission?” Hanjae asked, taking the pile of clothes to the dryer, smoothing wrinkles off them just for something to do.

Haruki waved manager Choi’s front keys in his hand, and Sangwon’s horrendous keychains clanked against each other: a green pine tree and a colorful ball. “The one that matters. What do you say, uh? You’re in? Can I count you in?”

He could count Hanjae in.

[...]

They stopped by a convenience store on the way, some couple of blocks down the dorm, and by then night had already conquered all of Seoul. Inside, the middle aged lady behind the counter rushed to give Haruki a hug, a paper bag and a discount.

“He’s a street cat I found,” she leaned in to explain when she caught Hanjae anxiously looking at him going straight to the back of the store, near the freezers, near the alcohol, with the ease of someone who could do so with his eyes shut. “He’s a good foreign friend.”

“I’m not!” Haruki shouted back, but he was grinning. “Are you not watching the news?”

The noona playfully rolled her eyes, joked back, “What news? You’re not on the news!”

She hushed Hanjae to go catch up with him with an enerved wave, told him to take a look around. “It’s on the house,” she winked. “You’re both so skinny, and you must be working hard, so just take something tasty and leave quickly.”

Trailing a couple feet behind Haruki on the aisle, Hanjae picked up a package of noodles and a modest four-set of Terra cans to accompany his endless Heineken bottles, light green on light green. While Hanjae bagged everything with caution, Haruki slipped a red won note on the balcony when the owner stopped paying attention to them, and off they went again.

Haruki made them walk ten more minutes to the left, and the left, the left again, coming to an abrupt stop in front of an abandoned lot, pure dirt and weeds, the sort that seemed to have turned into an open dump for the neighborhood. It looked no different or less disgusting than the million of others around less central Jungnang; it didn’t look like it could be a spot.

Yet Haruki kept braving straight through the grass without stopping, guiding Hanjae behind him to only step where he was stepping, to keep his eyes glued to the floor and watch out for broken glass. He settled when they were deep into the lot, mere feet away from a big hill. There was a clean view of an uneven street if you looked down, he said, filled with houses that were almost all pretty. Hanjae chose to just trust Haruki’s word on that; he couldn’t dare to come close enough to the drop to peek and see.

Haruki standed the bag of drinks for him to hold, and Hanjae had to do so with both hands. From a spot behind them, he pushed two retriable chairs out of a bulk set against a moldy tree, the metal in them corrupted by rust on the edges, and set them up, sat down, tapped at the other seat with his foot in invitation.

Hanjae took a long and anxious moment to comply. Under him, the chair dangled sideways even if he stayed very, very still.

With the convenience bag back in his domain, Haruki cracked three beers open, and handed Hanjae one, kept the other two: one in each hand, a Heineken and a Terra.

“Never had this one. I heard they’re the same thing,” he said, taking a sip from each and frowning, analyzing them. Hanjae stayed quiet.

He had only drank with his dad and uncles one time, at last year’s Chuseok, and hadn’t been much of a fan of anything. Still, he took a sip of beer.

Haruki at least had grace enough to let him swallow and contain a grimace before asking, with a strange edge to it, “So are you? A bully. A problem child. Part of a gang.”

“No,” Hanjae said, too quickly, too eager. He cleared his throat. “I’m really not, hyung, no.”

“How did it get there, then?” Haruki's look was razor sharp on Hanjae’s once tattooed hand, hard enough to make him freeze. “And why did you remove it? Just to be a trainee?”

Hanjae opened his mouth, but only to take a shaky breath in, swallow a bit more of bitter alcohol. In front of his fleeting eyes, Haruki eased just as quickly as he had hardened.

“Hanjae, we’re teammates now,” he told him. “I showed you my good spot. You can’t give me one word sentences anymore. You can’t lie.”

Hanjae considered this, and considered him from the corner of his eyes. Haruki was the LOOPiN member that Hanjae had come to know best, mostly because they didn’t have a choice, but still, he made an effort, he talked to him; he didn’t let Hanjae fall adrift. And he could have easily turned into an island: from the moment he had been transferred to New Wave, he had been an outsider, a last minute solution to a problem no one would explain to him – who left? Why? Was he worse than them? Was he better?

“You’re better,” Haruki had said, when Hanjae brought it up, late at night while they had dinner alone, in the practice room, sweating and panting – a week until their debut happened. He was the only one who had bothered to tell him so. He sounded like he meant it, too. Hanjae remembers catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror over his shoulder, hair bright brown and unfamiliar, thinking even for a fleeting moment: I’m doing enough.

It was fair for him to be the first to know – the first for Hanjae to disappoint.

“I got it removed before,” he heard himself say. It was a secret, so it came out like one: whispered, slow. “Before I wanted to train. I got it with friends– my dance crew friends. It was our logo, or at least, it was going to be, one day. But I… I did a bad thing, and it stopped making sense. It didn’t fit. I didn’t fit, so. It had to go.”

The vagueness did nothing but pique Haruki’s interest. He seated more properly, then less properly; ended up putting his feet on the seat of the chair, slouching with his head supported on his knee, the exact body language of, ‘Tell me, tell me, tell me.’

“My friend– my best friend, from childhood, our team captain. He used to have a girlfriend. A girl from our class, a dancer too, someone he had been in love with forever. Later she became part of the group, and we got close, we turned into friends, and then not. Not quite that. They broke up and one hour later we got together, on the same day. We got caught. It was a mess. Everyone thought it was a shitty thing to do, that it was cheating, cheating on everyone. But I just wanted her to be my girlfriend, back then– Back then, I wanted a girlfriend more than I wanted anything...”

Hanjae felt it coming, again: the desire to recoil a bit more on himself in shame. How pathetic he had been, then; how miserable, how sad, how lonely.

He took a timid peek to the side, ready to see an irk of dismay on Haruki’s face, some justified disgust, and was surprised to not see any of that. Haruki had grown passionate and invested in the whole story, something new in his eyes, a third bottle halfway drained in his hand.

He moved his chin up, as if saying, ‘Go on’, but Hanjae couldn’t. He drained the rest of the beer.

Haruki clicked his tongue like that wouldn’t do. He shoved his chair a few inches closer so he could grab at Hanjae's arm and said, all at once, “We can not– Hanjae, look, listen, we can not be blamed for all the things, the crazy things we do when love…!” He didn't finish the sentence, just amended it into another one: “You were a teenager, you both were, and very, very brave. Very brave to tell her and date her and keep dating her even if. They were just– bad friends. Just bad friends.”

They weren’t bad friends, Hanjae knew; they weren’t the ones in the wrong. But it hurted to say it out loud, to admit what he knew was still true: how easily he burned bridges for attention, for affection, so he never did. He just knew – looked at his reflection on surfaces and knew.

He rolled and rolled the tap of the Terra until it fell off, into the can. “Did you really quit college, hyung?” Was what he asked the wind.

Haruki shifted on his seat; Hanjae could only tell because of the way it creaked. “More like college quit me,” he said, with a sad huff of air that might have been a laugh, and dropped Hanjae’s arm, drank from his bottle too.

Sadness fell over them like a veil from then on. The Terras ended and Haruki didn’t mind sharing all the other stuff he had, and the longer it went on the less shy Hanjae felt about asking. At some point Haruki said, “I guess we really fucked up, uh – with 2on1,” and Hanjae, whipping a foam mustache off his face, “Minwoo’s not talking to me,” and Haruki, almost falling over with laugher, “Oh, my, I bet not! Ha. I bet not…”, and turned reticent, fell quiet.

His eyes, Hanjae had noticed, kept darting to a spot ahead in between conversation, beyond the drop of the hill, dazed. He violently shook his head sideways everytime he caught himself drifting too far away, and ran a hand over his face, rubbing at it in a way that made Hanjae look at him in worry.

Haruki found it hilarious each time. “What is it,” he eventually said, slower than normal, harder to understand, “With you, your face?”

He got up from his chair, a sudden move that sent it falling to the floor, a loud squeak, and walked even closer.

In front of Hanjae, right in front of him, he leaned forward until he got both his hands on his face, and said, pushing the corners of his mouth up, “The mood is so– Bad! So bad! Smile! Big smile! C’mon, give me a big smile!”

There had been dirt on Haruki’s hand, and Hanjae could vaguely taste it, with how close to his lips he was pressing. He still wore his inner braces back then; he kept cutting his tongue on the same spot, never healing, never telling, and he could feel the inside of his cheeks pressing onto that sharp place, about to be pierced through.

For a moment, they stayed quiet, looking at each other head on. Hanjae was not smiling. His heart had picked up a quick pace inside his chest, was drumming – Haruki was so close, and he was so beautiful, a true magazine type beauty, all symmetry, and Hanjae knew this, but not with this much conviction, not with so much emotion.

“Ah, you know what? I like you. I decided. I do like you, now…” Haruki said, and then he grinned, bringing his face even nearer. He took a breath and Hanjae felt it on his own nose, and didn’t know what to do about it; his mind, for a moment, went static. “Nothing will happen to you, friend. I promise it. ‘Will not let it.”

Hanjae’s held breath was a painful thing to let out of his chest. “Was something– Was something going to…?”

Haruki huffed a laugh and gave his cheeks two playful taps, said, with a new found determination, “Handsome guy. Do not get sad. I will fix this for you,” and let Hanjae’s face go.

He straightened his back up and swayed slightly to the side, running a hand over his hair, fixing his bangs back into place. Haruki told him, “Late. No booze. Night over”, and extended that same hand for Hanjae to take – Hanjae who still felt like his face had gone numb, blood rushing to it.

He took the hand, and they made their way back to the dorm that way, hanging close; Like magnets, Hanjae remembers thinking, idly, and then not idly at all. Haruki’s hands were leaving behind a pressure everywhere they touched, a heat that Hanjae couldn’t shake off – he just couldn’t shake it off.

Later, when Hanjae layed in bed, sheet drawn over his entire body, he could still feel it. When he woke up the morning after, nauseated but still in the group, still safe, he could still feel it.

If he closes his eyes now, right now, he can still feel it – the sad sort of burn of a premonition misread.

January 13, 2022.

Los Angeles is sunny in a way Haegon would love to see and pretend to hate – a saddening thought Hanjae had since they landed, and that comes back to haunt him while he looks at the city passing by on the van’s window, sidewalks all golden.

Haegon’s not a loud person in his eyes, but his absence is a loud thing, pouring the life out of everyone, mostly because of the way it had been forced on them.

It had been a horrifying way to open the year: having to come forward right on the first day of 2022 to the press, headlining Haegon’s mugging and the accident, his follow up hiatus and excuse out of their ‘We Do’ promotions in the USA. And then there was having to deal with Haegon in private, angry and disappointed, not wanting to take his pain medicine, shoving his room’s door in everyone's faces, dismissing every checkup attempt with an annoyed, “It’s just a minor concussion, what the Hell! I’m not fucking dying! Get the fuck off me, I’m fine, get off, just fuck off already to the States without me! Go on! Just– just leave me already!”

They’re driving out of some media company studio around the center of Los Angeles, where they filmed two twenty minute videos in a roll, more embarrassing games than actual interviews, and Hanjae has already spent all of his ability to mend English words together.

It could have been more fun, one of their staff said, but they had to pass on the puppy interview format because of Taesong’s allergies, and Jiahang’s been dead set on pretending to be sad about it during the entire ride back to the hotel; crocodile tears and all.

Hanjae has to deal with him from the last seat on the far opposite side of the van, resting his fried blonde head against his shoulder, sighing loudly, because Dylan is also not here to amuse him – he took a bus home to Santa Monica and will stay home until they leave in two days time.

Hanjae doesn’t like provoking Taesong, doesn’t like to spoil Jiahang, but that means very little in the grand escape of the group, that goes about poking fun of Taeng like it’s a sport, that’s stuck in a position where they really can’t say no to J.J, who owns company shares; he shoots the meek figure of Taesong an apologetic look as Jiahang’s act carries on, trying to tell him: ‘I’m not a part of this, I just don’t know how to stop it.’

Thankfully, the hotel isn’t that far away, and it’s a quick torture – up until things takes a turn for the worse.

As they park and start to step out, Beomseok’s long arm blocks the door before he and Jiahang can put a single leg outside of the car.

“Stop,” he tells J.J, harsh enough to make Hanjae stumble a step back. Beomseok points a finger right at Jiahang’s face, and inch from touching his nose, says, “Stop being a fucking problem. Stop.”

It makes Jiahang livid, turns his ears bright red. He takes long stomps to the elevator, and Hanjae has to jog to keep up with him – Jiahang really has the longest legs Hanjae has ever seen on a person.

“He’s got such a stick up his ass!” He keeps on saying, barging into the room they’re both sharing with Dylan and Zhiming – angrily tossing his bag into his ‘cheap dollar store bed with the cheap dollar store sheets’ that made him go into a very similar rant last night. “He thinks he’s the only one who cares about Gon, the only one who can bother. He’s so wrong. I’m fucking worried too! I’m calling him too! I miss him! I’m more of a friend to him than that weirdo is. He’s so weird. He thinks he owns Haegon and everyone and everything, just because he’s older, just because he trained for like, one billion years! Like it’s my fault Starship thought he was too ugly to join NO.MERCY!”

“You were being annoying, Jiahang,” O.z deadpans from the corner he’s tucked in, without looking up from his manhwa.

Jiahang grunts louder. “Yeah, that was the point. Taesong knows I’m just joking around! Everyone knows!”

Zhiming lowers the comic from his face, flipping a page. His eyes have deep dark circles behind his thick glasses, marks that never go away. “Unnecessary.”

Jiahang rolls his eyes, putting his hair up on an ugly bun. He turns his back to Zhiming’s bed and mouths at Hanjae, mocking, ‘Unnecessary’.

Hanjae shrugs at him, and that annoys J.J too. He angrily puts on a movie on the tiny TV, gets a hold of his bed’s pillow and wraps himself around it, mumbling something under his breath still. The tags on the streaming app read comedy, musical. He chews on a poor nail while humming along the first song, and Hanjae tries to humor him with a tiny, “Is that Ariana Grande sunbaenim?”

It doesn’t work. Jiahang shoves his face into his pillow and says, miserable and muffled, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hang around with you, you’re so lame. I miss Dylan so much.”

“He invited you to go with him,” Hanjae says, helplessly. “You said you didn’t want to.”

“Of course I didn’t want to! I would have to sleep on the floor. In a bag, on the floor. And I don’t think his grandma would like me – I don’t think anyone in his family would like me,” he turns his face around, off the pillow. Hanjae can hear clearly when he says, “He needs time alone with them. For the anxieties.”

“The anxieties?” Hanjae asks him, very slowly.

Jiahang presses his mouth shut tight, straights himself up again. He undoes his ponytail, tosses his long, long hair from one side to the other, behind his ears.

He takes a quick look at Zhiming, and Hanjae does too, and they go by uncaught; O.z’s got his big headphones in now, eyes glued to his comic book.

Jiahang is still careful to whisper, “The rest of you don’t get what it's like, when you’re away from your home every day, when you know all the people you’re going to see aren’t all the ones you know – when you got family that’s like, old, and you know that time’s passing. You’re losing days with them. It gets scary, after a while. Dylan’s grandad will be 82 this year, hyung – that’s a terrifying number, that’s a maybe. That’s the anxiety. Mine, his– Zhiming’s, too. Foreign member anxiety.”

Hanjae nods, sharp. Jiahang makes a face at him, brighter – smiles, says like a tease, “Not Haruki’s, though. Haruki doesn’t miss Japan at all, if that’s what you’re wondering. He’s not anxious about that.”

Hanjae blinks. Opens his mouth, closes it, blinks again. “I wasn’t going to ask–”

“Sure thing. Suuuuure,” J.J says slyly, and goes back to watching TV, and Hanjae does too. Gulps, keeps looking at the movie, tries to pay attention.

Jiahang put on korean subtitles for him, yet he keeps talking – explaining everything. It’s a nice enough movie, he says. Good songs, nice enough movie.

They’re reaching the end of it, seeing every main character gather in a protest around town, when Haruki barges into their room.

“Are any of you not gonna rot inside this hotel?” He asks, loudly, quickly. “Is anyone going to do anything? Catch some sun?”

“Hanjae’s supposed to be going out,” Zhiming tells him. He’s also watching the movie now, has Jiahang by his side, explaining to him what he missed.

“Oh?” Haruki says, and looks around the room, eyes a little clouded, until they land on Hanjae. He smiles, and it stretches across his face quick and big, like he’s actually glad to see him, like the effect is instantaneous. Hanjae can’t for the life of him look at it head on. “Perfect. That’s just perfect, I’m going with you, Hanhan, just wait for me to get changed!”

“Okay,” Hanjae says, and hops off the bed too quickly, sits back down. “I– Waiting.”

Immediately after Haruki leaves Jiahang gives him a long look over Zhiming’s shoulder, and Hanjae pretends not to see it.

“You’re too easy,” he says, with a disapproving nod of his head, and Hanjae pretends he doesn’t hear it, pretends it doesn’t sting.

It’s humiliating, being reminded that people know – that they look at him and know, and he’s reminded of it constantly.

“Hanjae’s sad, sad bisexual awakening,” was how Jiahang put it, sing-a-song in the studio, while making this very single they’re promoting now. “Worse, worse than Minwoo’s– Is that a verse? Can we put that on a song, on the album?”

Minwoo said, for the two of them, “Fuck you.”

And there that one time, the one he remembers clearly, when Seo CEO said he wanted to sit down to watch them practicing ‘Love Me Right’ before the big release, and Taesong pushed Hanjae aside, told him, “Hanjae, you– if you need to check the choreo, please look at the instruction video. Don’t look at Haruki like that, there’s no need to look like you–”

There had to be a separation, he realized; he had to get it under control.

So Hanjae made friends with the people Haruki seemed to not stand, which sometimes meant everyone, but mostly meant J.J and Beomseok – two extremes of very opposite lines. He’s built a line of separation, wrapped himself up in Haruki repellent, and he tries to live by it.

It’s a frail line, a shitty line, and it comes crashing down all the time, with the little moments; single minutes where things feel kind between them, different. A bottle of water and a perfectly folded towel passed to him backstage, a group conversation where Haruki eventually says, like clockwork, “And you, Hanjae? What do you think?”; no one else says that. There’s this lingering nearness coming from him, like there's always something Haruki wants to say or do but can’t, something he wants to check.

It makes Hanjae wonder – makes him come back to that one friendly night, hang on to it. The way Haruki had been so near, his exact tone of voice when he said that he liked him, considered him a friend, thought he was handsome, was going to fix whatever was wrong.

[...]

“So what are we doing?” Haruki asks when they step onto the sidewalk.

“Just filming my Loop Log,” Hanjae responds. “Deadline’s tonight.”

“Shit, that,” Haruki groans, taking his cap off to push hair out of his eyes, putting it on again. “I forgot all about that. ‘Haven’t filmed mine either. ‘Think I lost my camera.”

“I can help you look,” Hanjae offers. “When we get home.”

“Well, thank you,” Haruki says, and steps closer, slides an arm over Hanjae’s shoulder, tells him, “For now, I guess we’ll just have to stick tight. LOOPiN 2on1, reunited in L.A…!”

At Hanjae’s timid request, Chihoon made him a list of what he should get to ‘live his best tourist life’, what the fans might want to see him try: pancakes, bacon and eggs, ice cream, anything in the menu that looks like it could have come off a cartoon, any ‘house specials’.

They go into the nearest place listed with the camera on hand, and have to explain with their Frankenstein English that they want to make a vlog, can they make a vlog? They can, a waiter says, but only in a specific area; they get taken there.

Hanjae orders the house special, and it's a crazy looking Banana Split. Haruki settles for waffles, and they decide to start filming when the food arrives.

Any chance of small talk between them goes fully stall when Hanjae asks, right at their waiter steps away, as the opening topic: “Have you talked to Haegon?”

Haruki’s dangling hand on the table stills. He smiles weird, notices it looks weird, drops it: “Ah, no. No…” and goes silent, makes Hanjae go silent too.

The food comes, they start filming. Hanjae’s meticulously trying to extract a tiny piece of strawberry from a block of ice cream, all while only looking through the camera’s lens, when Haruki’s phone jumps to life, ringing.

He takes it out of his pocket, places it screen flat on the table without looking at the receiver once, mutes it with one hand, adds a mountain of maple syrup to his food with the other.

“Not important,” Haruki reassures Hanjae when he catches him looking at the buzzing phone, an inch away from falling off the edge. He forks the food and stands his hand across the table, says, with his Idol voice, “Wanna try?”

It’s good sweet food, all of it. The camera goes back and forth between them, hand to hand. Haruki makes him pretend they’re shooting a commercial, at some point, makes him do a different pose with every bite, and Hanjae tries to not lose control of his face with all the wooing, all the praise.

It’s fanservice, and Haruki’s good at it. It makes for good content. Everything: good.

Outside, bill paid, they take shelter from the sun and check the recording; thirty raw minutes of footage.

“Hanjae,” Haruki says, looking up after skimming the video, solemn. Hanjae leans a bit forward, eyes a little wide.“The Log will turn out very boring if this is all we do.”

It is, indeed, not the best vlog Hanjae’s ever made. Not that he’s ever been any good at them, or at anything on the media side of the job outside of music covers or choreography making. He’s seen the views on his solo variety content, Sangwon walked him through them all last month, said: nothing special.

They barely talked in 30 minutes – Hanjae didn't initiate a single conversation with him.

Quickly, Haruki’s eyes narrow as he scans the area around them, and Hanjae tries to keep up. He looks for a long moment at the barracks of food, at a man selling balloons, and finally lands far ahead, on a group of kids running on the sand. The leading one trips on air and falls face first on the ground, immediately wails, and they let out matching startled, horrified laughs.

Haruki jogs until he’s in front of him, and turns to walk backwards, closer to where the sidewalk gives into the beach.

“You wanna do that?” He arches a perfect eyebrow. “Run around on the beach with me. Like we’re in a movie.”

Hanjae steps on a stone, lands his other feet on the ground wrong. “I– No.”

“No? Well, I’m doing it! It’s what the vlog’s missing! Trust me, if we do this, it’ll fix everything,” he says, and before Hanjae can even think of what to reply, turns around and starts running on the sand, straight ahead.

Haruki’s already bent over near the ocean when Hanjae catches up with him, folding his jeans until they stop at his knees, barefoot. He insists: “Let’s go, let’s do it, you’re already here, it’s going to be fun, the fans will like it, let’s do it, let’s do it!”

With a resigned sigh, Hanjae unties his sneakers.

Haruki approaches a family nearby and asks for a beach chair, gets a yes. They place the camera cautiously on it, set it with a big zoom ahead. Haruki leaves his phone there, too, with a careless toss, and Hanjae can hear it announcing another call as he steps away, trailing exactly behind him – footprint over footprint, back near the ocean and then on the ocean.

“I thought– Hyung, I thought we were going to just walk,” Hanjae says, stopping. The salt water is a chill foam around his foot.

“Yeah,” Haruki flashes him a smile over his shoulder. He’s about to be knees deep, is taking his Hawaiian shirt off, Hanjae realizes now, with a flush. “We’re walking. Into the water.”

Hanjae catches the shirt when he throws it over his shoulder, looks at it, up at him. He takes a step closer. “Manager Choi’s– Haruki, he’s going to complain!”

“Fuck him!” Haruki tells him with a laugh. He says, with meaning: “Fuck him, fuck New Wave, let them complain, I’m going for a dive and no one can stop me!”

And then he dives, swims, disappears under the water for a long moment. Hanjae stays planted where he is, at a loss of words. When Haruki reemerges, pushing a curtain off black hair off his eyes, and walks back splashing water at him. By the time they’re side by side again, it looks like Hanjae took a dive, too.

“Are you…” He starts to say, eyeing Haruki worryingly, but then the family from before calls back to them, says they’re leaving, they need the chair back, and Haruki claps him on the shoulder, smiles widely, races him to reach them.

“Look,” Haruki says when they’re checking the footage, back on the sidewalk, showing Hanjae a clip: the two of them, a little blurry, walking. “We even got your good smile.”

“My good smile?” Hanjae echoes.

“Not to imply you have a bad one, because you don’t have a bad one,” Haruki says, and bumps their shoulders together. He has just put his shirt back on, is wearing it unbuttoned. “You just have one that’s relaxed, easy. A rare one.”

“Hm,” Hanjae responds, looking away, rolling a rock under his feet.

The walk back to the hotel is calm, windy. The sky’s cotton candy pink and it all looks like a movie, Hanjae thinks. He looks down, and their hands are loose, hanging close, like it would be in a movie.

The end credits roll when they get in the hotel’s lobby, and find Sangwon there – just right there. He catches sight of them immediately, like an alert dog; a quick jump off his seat, a stall near.

He seems to consider them like an equation, frowning: he takes in their wet hair, the wet clothes, the leftover traces of sand, solves it, fumes.

“Do you have any idea,” he says, and he’s struggling to look at the two of them, to not just gawk at Haruki – to not bare his teeth to Haruki only. “Any idea, you two, of how irresponsible this whole stunt was? You’re out on a foreign land. You know no one – no one. When I– The company, if the company calls, you pick your phone. It’s how it works. Pick your phone, immediately.”

Hanjae checks his own phone, a quick glance: no calls.

“Choi-nim,” he says, not looking directly at him, because he lost the ability over the years. Sangwon’s gaze now makes him incredibly anxious. He takes the camera out of where its hanging around his neck, stands it. “I notified– On the calendar, I added– We were just filming–”

“No need to explain, Hanjae,” Haruki interrupts, and puts a hand on Hanjae’s shoulder, steps in front of him, puts himself between him and Sangwon. “Go up. You did nothing wrong. It’s okay. Hyung’s going to solve this with the manager.” He turns straight to Choi-nim and bows, so pristine, so polite: “I take full responsibility for today. It was all me. I’m really sorry if I caused you stress.”

Sangwon considers him for a long moment, taking in the bend of his elbows, like he’s trying to measure his sincerity – there’s almost none of it, Hanjae can tell. He sighs, and then he adjusts his shirt, picks at the cufflinks of his uniform, breaths – his nostrils taking over his entire face.

“You’re dismissed,” Sangwon tells Hanjae, icely, with a corner of the eye glance.

“Sir, I–”

“Dismissed.”

“Go on,” Haruki encourages him, giving Hanjae’s shoulder a firm tap. And then he runs a hand over Hanjae’s hair, messes it up until his wet bangs are glued to his forehead, which he’s never done before; not with him, not with anyone, as far as Hanjae’s aware.

Hesitantly, Hanjae steps away, goes to take the elevator. He keeps looking at them over his shoulder, watching them trail away with growing uneasiness. Haruki keeps looking back at him until he can’t: Sangwon gets the door of the hotel open, shoves him by the shoulder out.

Up in his hotel room, Hanjae showers for a long time. There’s sand on a spot on his elbow where Haruki gave him a tap, and it takes him a while to notice.

He comes off the shower and goes straight to laying down. Zhiming, who had been awake when he came in, is also in his bed now, fully still.

He turns over once, and then again, goes back on his side. “Zhiming hyung?” Hanjae whispers. “You’re awake?”

When Zhiming finally responds, it’s with a minimal grunt, a tiny quick of his socked foot. “What.”

“Do you,” Hanjae chews on the words, “Do you think I have a good smile?”

A pause, a loud sigh. “You’re an Idol. You should hope so.”

“Okay. Okay, so what about– What about me do you think, what looks bad?”

Slowly, very slowly, Zhiming raises his upper body on his elbows. His air is a mess, recently dyed from gray to black too quickly. Without his glasses, he’s forced to squint at Hanjae, even this close, with their beds separated by a very narrow space.

“What the fuck are you even talking about?”

Hanjae takes in a sharp breath, and nods – puts a hand over his eyes, nods again. Stupid, so stupid.

“Nothing,” He says. “Nothing, just– Forget it. I’m sorry, just– Sorry.”

Zhiming goes back to laying down with a loud ‘oof’. He says, a crude whisper, “Don’t go out alone with him if it’ll make you come back like that.”

And with that Hanjae decides he must sleep, immediately, and end this day already.

It was just a day, he tells himself, rubbing at the scarred spot on his hand; a flower in eternal bloom, once. Just one good day. Drop it, forget it, erase it.

February 15, 2022.

“C’mon, you guys, c’moooon! On a scale of one to ten–”

“Na Seungsoo,” Minwoo’s voice rings out like a warning; an elastic pulled far above its limit, about to snap back into place, hard. “Shut your goddamn mouth.”

“She’s right there,” Haegon adds, equally as ultraged. “Are you dumb? Do you want to die?”

“Light up, you two. We’re just talking hypotheticals. I’m not actually gonna fuck our mananger,” Seungsoo says, crossing his arms, raising his chin high – his posture the embodiment of a practical joke about to take action. “That would be desperate and unprofessional, and I am none of these things.”

“You’re extremely unprofessional,” Jiahang laughs at him, a little mean – all his laughs have something a little mean about them, Hanjae can’t help but notice, when Seungsoo’s involved. “And extremely desperate. You just fucked our sound assistant. We no longer have a sound assistant, because you fucked her.”

“So did Jimin!”

“A fluke,” Zhiming defends himself. “Not happening again.”

“It’s never a fluke with you, Seungsoo. You’re such a man whore. A man whore for staff. Even Sangwon could have pulled you when he was around if he had a pair of tits,” Haegon notes, and Seungsoo gasps, mutters, scandalized, ‘You bastard!’, raises a fist up as if he’s going to hit him, and everyone’s laughing. Hanjae contributes with a grimace. “You’re that gross, you’re really that disgusting, all it would take–”

Behind them, Dylan begins to violently choke on a bite out of his granola bar, hard enough for the whole photo studio to freeze.

Taesong stands up immediately to check on him, and so does Jungwha, their three day old manager, Choi Sangwon’s definitive substitute and the topic of Seungsoo’s most recent infatuation: she rushes forward to aid alongside an assistant, a cup of water materialized out of thin air on her hand, like a trained lifeguard.

It’s too early for any of them to get a good read on her, but Hanjae has working eyes, so he will admit Junghwa is good looking in a mature sort of way, a bit above the ‘K-Pop staff adequate’. She’s not far from Seungsoo’s type, given the fact that he pretty much doesn’t have one. Hanjae has seen him flirt with Seo CEO’s third ex-wife, the second ex-wife, all of Minwoo’s half sisters and, in a disastrous attempt, Dylan’s mom. ("She's just so young, Chihoon! I thought she was your cousin!"

"I don't have a single cousin and you know that! You went for my mom, you animal, the least you can do is own it!")

“Holy shit, Chihoon,” Seungsoo says, tapping him on the back with one hand, fanning him with the other. “You’re alright?”

“My bad– False alarm, guys, my bad–!”, Dylan mutters, still coughing, watery eyes quick in their attempt to scan the room for something, someone.

Hanjae follows their frantic trail until they land on the quiet figure of Haruki by the coffee machine, his back to them, shoulders rigid and on display – wearing the same suit outfit Hanjae has been put on, his in a shade more close to purple than blue.

It fits Haruki splendidly, as must things do.

“Alright, boys, hey, boys!” Jungwha calls out when Dylan’s lungs go back to normal, clapping her hands one loud time. “Break’s over! It’s the real deal, now! So let’s try to have a good day at work today! Fighting!”

They’re set to scatter in trios and duos, the old unit formations, except for Haegon, who’s still on hiatus, still has stitches all over the crown of his head. He only made it because Haruki insisted, and he’s always insisting, lately: “How can we do well without our cheerleader,” he told Haegon in the morning, “Our cute, adorable cheerleader, my very favorite little brother–!”

“Hi,” Hanjae mutters, tapping Haruki gently in the shoulder. Haruki jumps, catching his breath, and Hanjae drops his hand, shoves it behind his own back. “Ah, sorry, if I– I was just going to say we should–”

But Haruki is turning and splinting in front of him before all the words are out, growing out of earshot, out of hold, entering a hallway on the left.

Hanjae, embarrassed, follows.

They’re supposed to go to room 4, but Haruki walks right past it. Hanjae calls back to him from the door, says, “Hyung, that’s not the–”, and then his voice falters, dies out.

Haruki’s already quick pace has grown even quicker, and he’s now running towards the door at the end of the corridor, the one with a red sign written ‘TERRACE’ over it – really running, to the point his body almost slams against the metal when he stops. The door handle makes a loud noise as he tries to push it open, can’t make it, tries again, harder – manages to step out with a strong shove. Hanjae goes after him, frowning, worried.

Outside, the terrace is a gray space, almost the same tone as the sky – rain’s a strong promise on the horizon, a reasonable fear.

Haruki’s standing right at the center. He tries to take in a big and loud gulp of air, can’t, makes a choking sound, lets out a hiss. Hanjae can feel the acute panic coming off him like electricity, gluing itself to his very own skin. He reminds himself to breathe.

Haruki stands an arm out and that’s the distance between them, that’s the nearest he’ll let Hanjae get.

“What’s– What’s happening, what’s wrong, what–?”

“Just,” he’s trembling bad. “Leave, I need– Leave.”

“Now?” Hanjae asks, and he’s making himself bite down on the trail of: ‘But the shoot’, ‘But the gig’, ‘But the job’ so hard, he’s actually got his teeth sinking on his lip.

Haruki nods, sharp and final, and Hanjae feels himself nodding back, frenetic. “Okay, stay– stay here, okay, you’ll leave– we’re leaving, just stay here.”

Hanjae walks back into the building with his head very low, tries to not walk too quickly to bring attention to himself, feels like he’s falling; feels like the whole world is looking at him. He holds his breath while sneaking back into the room they’re using as a closet, picks his and Haruki’s things like a thief: pushing everything into their bags without folding, eyes anxiously looking behind his back, flinching at every outside noise coming through the door.

Haruki’s phone is the last thing he grabs. He only becomes aware of it because it starts ringing. He looks at the screen, a quick run of his eyes. The contact name reads: ‘Don’t Answer Don’t Answer Don’t Answer.’

On the roof, Haruki’s sitting on the floor, resting his forehead against the wall. The back half of an air conditioner hangs close to him, and the leftover water pools near his feet, turning the hem of his pants dark.

They put on the yellow raincoats, plastic hood all the way up, and make a clumsy escape out the studio; Hanjae babbles something at the receptionist about there being equipment in the van, and the woman gives them a distracted ‘go ahead’ nod, an empty courtesy smile.

They walk without a plan, enter on the first bus that stops close: Haruki on the lead, completely reticent, Hanjae only following. There’s still a trail of glitter going down his neck, shiny with sweat, red from stress, Hanjae notices when they sit down. He’s still crying, still whipping at his runny nose with the expensive fabric of his shirt.

Hanjae looks down at his own clothes, the suit vest with no shirt under, a design piece New Wave doesn’t own – he’s wearing eyeliner, a strong smokey eye. They look expensive, and to an outsider, probably peculiar, weird. They don’t even have masks on…

Maybe, Hanjae hopes, trying to hold on to any trail of optimism possible, they could pass as very dedicated cover dancers, maybe–

The sound of Hanjae’s phone ringing makes them both jump in their seats. Haruki comes out of his state of anxious inertia to put a hand on his knee, pressing on it to get his attention. He says, through his teeth, “Do not– Hanjae, do not.”

Hanjae lets the phone ring out. He looks at the receiver: Uhm Junghwa (Manager).

Haruki’s peeking at it too. “Off,” he says, and it’s off.

It’s raining when they step out of the bus. They get maybe five feet down the sidewalk when a phone rings again – this time, Haruki’s. He comes to a sudden halt, and Hanjae bumps into his back and gets a close view of how, in an act of blind rage, he throws it hard on the floor.

“Fuck!” Haruki says, and steps on it once, twice, cracks the screen then the whole device in half. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Hanjae looks at him, wide eyed, mouth hanging open, and watches him pace around, a tense moment, until he loses all steam, goes sit by the closest wall.

Haruki stays for a long time there, one hand gripping the fence, the other pressing over his face, being rained on. Cautiously, Hanjae slides his raincoat off, squats down, close to him, and stands it over both their heads. Rain drips directly into his shoulder, makes a cold path down his neck.

“I hope your–,” a hiccup, a sniff, a faint and unconvincing attempt from Haruki of laughing them both off, “your fantasy’s still– still up.”

“My…?”

“Can you not,” Haruki says, a hiss, “Not look.”

Hanjae complies, doesn’t look. Behind them, a car runs close to the sidewalk, splashes a wave of rainwater on their backs.

“Sasaeng?” Hanjae tries, “Is it a sasaeng, or…”

Haruki lets out a bitter snort. “Imja,” he says, and it makes more sense that he means ‘owner’ rather than ‘marriage partner’; Hanjae can’t hear anything else, can’t connect anything else to something he knows and decode it.

His throat has gone dry, sandy. He clears it, and still, his voice comes off clipped. “Your…? Ah. Ah, I didn’t know– Didn’t know you have someone you were–”

“You know him,” Haruki says. “For years. You– you’ve known him. He gave you your job– Made your job happen.”

It takes a long moment for it to click, for the shape of manager Choi to come to Hanjae’s mind. Haruki’s looking at him like he’s expecting Hanjae to do something horrible: mouth set for a fight, eyes so red they look like they’ve been painted over.

“Hyung,” Hanjae breathes. His voice is an even quieter thing, afraid. “Do you mean– Are you being serious?”

“Am I! Am I serious?!”

He’s up again, quick – Hanjae loses his equilibrium and falls back on the street. Haruki doesn’t wait for him to get up to resume stomping.

It takes two street turns for Hanjae to understand they’re detouring from the dorms.

They sit on another bus stop bench, hop on another bus. A quiet and tense drive, this one. Haruki’s no longer crying, just grinding his teeth.

They go to the front gates of a tiny building, their final destination, and Haruki tells the security guard an apartment number, wais to be buzzed in. He does soon, and Hanjae, yet to be told to leave, goes up with him on the stairs.

Delilah gets the door he bangs on, and Hanjae’s stuck blinking at the sight of her, who shouldn’t still be in Korea. Haruki barges into her place like a hurricane: shoes still on, pushing her a little back, closer to the wall.

They both stare at the spot he occupied on the corridor a second ago, a held breath.

She recovers much quicker than he does. Deh tucks a long lock of her caramel hair behind her ear, greets him with an awkward, “Hanjae, hi. Hi...”, and Hanjae gets overwhelmed by too many things at once; how glad he is to see her, the shame of how they had parted. Her sad face when she told everyone she couldn’t stand to work with them anymore.

“You’re back.”

“I am! I am back!” Deh says. “How could I not! Europe’s too gray for me. The food’s too bad, and...” She sucks air through her teeth, takes an anxious look behind her, back inside. “... And all that.”

Hanjae shakes his head, agrees – agrees to all that even though he has no idea what all that is. There’s a pool of spit on his mouth, and he has to concentrate on gulping it down, has to try more than once.

“Hanjae, baby, look– I’ll send him on his way later. Maybe tonight. Or tomorrow morning. Just…” She trials off. “Please don’t tell the others we met, okay? I don’t want Seungsoo looking for me or asking around. I don’t want to see him again, ever.”

Fair, Hanjae thinks. After everything, fair.

Deh flashes him a final grim before closing the door, still awkward, and it doesn’t last. She drops it for a split second, fully drops it, looks instead concerned, anxious.

Hanjae waits a moment, then moves before he knows it. He presses his ear against the shut door, closes his eyes and hopes to catch anything. A creek of wood. A vacuum cleaner being turned off. The sound of someone channel surfing. Deh saying what might be, “Haruki, what do you want me to do? I can’t know, love. I can’t know if you don’t tell me.”

Another sound drowns everything, nearer. Someone from the apartment on the left starts to unlock their door, it’s about to walk out, and it leaves Hanjae panicking, it makes him jog all the way out of the building, nonstop.

He makes the inverse way back home, alone. His own phone is a hot thing in his back pocket. When he gets to the dorm, Chihoon is the first person he bumps into, planted right beside the shoe rack. Hanjae’s seen him in this set of clothes, short shorts and a knockoff Pokemon shirt, more than he’s seen his own dad’s face these last few years.

Dylan grabs at Hanjae when he notices it’s him, pushes him back out quickly. He puts a finger in front of his mouth – quiet.

“I’ve given you some cover,” he whispers. They’re circling the house, Hanjae realizes, going to the backyard. “Said you were not feeling well. It won’t fly with Minwoo or Taesong, so think of something. And you're not gonna get paid this month, because of the clothes. Neither of you will.” He looks around, eyes sharp in a way Hanjae didn’t think they could be. “Where is he?”

“Deh’s,” Hanjae blurts out, and remembers he promised not to speak of her, grows meek.

He’s tired, deep in the bones tired, from all the walking, all the running. The socks inside his sneakers are still wet, his fingers have gone cold.

“Good,” Dylan says, remarkably unsurprised. “That’s good enough.”

There’s a moment of silence between them. In Hanjae’s head, a pinned image every time he blinks: Haruki’s eyes, red like a bruise.

“Chihoon hyung, I think– I think there’s something wrong with–”

Dylan’s grip on his arm is steady, but no longer comforting when he says, “Hanjae, listen, yes. Yes. Something’s wrong. Too many things–” He shakes his head, clicks his tongue once, and again. “No need for you to worry about it, because there’s nothing you can really do, okay? It’s been too long, now. The time for anyone to really do anything, over.”

He looks like he doesn’t want to be saying it, like all those words taste bitter, bad.

“So just keep being nice,” Dylan concludes, and his voice breaks at the end. “Be nice with him right now, alright? And patient, and normal, just like always, and…”

Dylan doesn’t say what else. He looks down, and Hanjae follows. Near their feet, a trail of black nicotine ash and tiny bits of paper; someone’s worry, someone’s wait.Kind, maybe, Hanjae concludes on his own. Maybe kind was what he was going to say.

March 12th & a Bit Of 13th, 2022.

Sunyoung immediately strikes Hanjae as someone who’s never held a small house party before, and it’s a bit painful to see her try.

She greets them at the door, a little overdressed: Chanel earrings, Chanel bag. “Is that everyone?”, she asks, craning her neck to peek behind them, and when they mumble ‘yes’ she visibly withers.

Taesong steps in front of them to give her a gift – a flower vase so yellow Zhiming had to look away from it, rubbing at his eyes.

She stares at it for a minute, frowns hard, then composes herself, says, “Ah! Thank you so much, oppa! This is so– Yeah, thanks! But you didn’t have to! Gon, baby! I said they didn’t have to!”

“I told you they don’t listen to me,” Haegon mutters. There’s a dark cloud over his face and Sunyoung seems to not mind it. She squeezes his arm when he passes her by, smiles at him prettily.

She checks the corridor one more time, and for a moment Hanjae thinks she looks sad; that she looks angry.

The party is a housewarming party for the brand new double storey apartment in Nine One Hannam she’s sharing with her BombShell leader Yoorim, who strongly opposed herself to throwing anything. Hanjae catches a glimpse of her looking displeased and bothered behind the kitchen aisle, and bows his head a little – she rolls her eyes, turns her back on him, disappears behind a small group of people.

Beomseok refused to come, decided to take the afternoon to go grocery shopping, the night to visit family he can’t take Haegon to see; the side that calls him a parasite. It had been a clear jab, right at Haegon’s face. Even Minwoo thought it was insensitive, and his response to the invite had been nothing but a disgusted face that spelled out ‘no’.

Hanjae watches him move through the living room, greeting some people. Haegon’s been here yesterday, and the day before that, and if Hanjae’s not cautious, he’ll stay over despite their early shooting tomorrow.

“That old man put you on babysitting duty, eh, Hanhan?” Seungsoo leans in to whisper to him, a drink in hand already – white wine. The smell of his cologne is probably stuck to Hanjae’s bottom up by osmosis.

“He’s just concerned. It makes sense to be concerned.”

On their first day back from L.A, Haegon had announced over dinner that he now had a girlfriend: they met last week, and had been dating for three days. The situation had driven Beomseok crazy. Haegon asked if him if wanted to meet her every day for two weeks straight, and he said: no. He eventually got around to meet her and said with even more conviction: no, break up, now.

It’s an age gap, even if very small, but she’s about five years his industry senior, he told Hanjae. And Sunyoung’s from YG Entertainment, the face of too many brands. She’s going to eat him alive, spit him out, leave him heartbroken and Beomseok is going to have to deal with it, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with it.

“She can just like him. People can just like him,” Taesong tried to intervene, high pitched, and Beomseok cutted him off right away, said, “No. No, there’s something– Be serious, Taesong. No.”

The front door dings again, and it takes a long minute for Haegon to untangle his arms from Sunyoung’s waist and let her go get it. Hanjae watches her walk across the house, a firm walk of a supermodel, of someone important, and gets embarrassed with how bad he is at this, how obvious.

Another glimpse her way, and the person with their two feet planted on the ‘welcome home’ carpet is Haruki. He also said he wouldn’t come but gave no excuse, yet: here, dressed nicely. He’s got the same convenience store from years ago under one arm, the one from a memory.

They talk, talk, talk, and he still won’t leave the entrance. Haruki makes her laugh, the most genuine thing Hanjae’s seen Sunyoung do all night. He sees her look at him, look around, then lean closer again: point upstairs and give Haruki a thumbs up as he finally makes his way in, into the stairs and out of sight.

Sunyoung’s back on the couch, to Haegon, and Hanjae makes himself look. They’re fine, they appear very fine, holding hands, he doesn’t have to watch them all night, there’s no need to watch them at all, and–

Hanjae goes up the stairs, which he knows it’s technically off limits. He tries to not let his eyes wander to the photos on the walls, the books on the shelves tucked next to an award behind protective glass, a big shiny plaque framed above it.

There’s only one door with light peeking through, right at the end of the corridor. He taps at it three times, and waits. Another three taps, slightly stronger.

“Occupied,” a voice says from the inside – a tone he knows. “All night.”

Hanjae can’t think of what to say: can’t think of anything at all, for a second. He gives the door another hopeful tap, waits more, and he lets out a sigh of relief when it creeks open. He goes in, closes it quietly behind him, and looks down.

The room’s a bathroom, straight out of a home decoration magazine, all black and white. Haruki seems to be setting up an improv bar on the floor, in the big space between the bathtub and the sink. There’s a bottle of something Hanjae can’t read, blue and half empty, tucked in between his legs like a treasure.

“Ah, you,” he waves at Hanjae’s vague direction, not looking up. “Hello, you. I’m just– Don’t mind the mess. Someone made me something once. ‘Trying to put it together.”

Hanjae hums. He can’t make his hand ease its grip on the doorknob.

It’s been weeks since they abandoned the shoot, and since then Haruki’s been avoiding him constantly. Looks at him from across rooms and seems pained, constantly, and Hanjae hasn’t had the heart to come near.

“What is happening?” Haruki asks, suddenly, and tries to land a smile. He blinks a lot and then not enough looking up at Hanjae. “Down. Down there.”

“Nothing much.”

“How is he?”

“Haegon?” Hanjae asks, and Haruki nods at him loosely, mouths the name without making a sound: ‘Haegon’. “He– Uh, he seems alright.”

“Great couple, yes or no? For our maknae, is she great?”

“I– I don’t know.”

Disappointment flashes vividly through Haruki’s face, and it lands on a sad shagrin. “You don’t know,” he says, to himself, and goes back to emptying his bag with a slouch to his shoulders.

‘Be normal’, Dylan had said that day, his only instructions: ‘Be nice.’

Hanjae lets go of the door and goes to sit in front of him, legs crossed like his are. “What’s it supposed to taste like? The drink.”

There’s no humor in Haruki when he says, “Acid.”

He offers a thermo bottle to Hanjae filled with the failed replica. Hanjae takes a tiny sip and can’t swallow it, feels like his tongue is on fire, and it makes Haruki huff a laugh. “More disgusting than that.”

He makes more combinations that demand more tasting, and Hanjae at times struggles, at times doesn’t – Haruki empties a Soju bottle and refills it with Somaek, calls it ‘Hanjae’s palette cleanser’. He also makes Hanjae go downstairs to grab things they don’t have: more cups, ice and fruit juice, if Sunyoung has any, which she does – too many options.

Hanjae comes back from the trip and sets all his findings at Haruki’s feet, then feels weird about it, exposed about it, and pushes some of it closer to himself.

The bottle opener, they notice a minute later, has disappeared. Hanjae thinks he took it with him to the kitchen and abandoned it on the counter. Worry not, Haruki says; worry not!, because he knows how to open them with his front teeth. It’s a hidden skill, a secret talent.

Haruki asks him to hold a bottle close to his face so he can prove it, and Hanjae does so, but it’s a frail grip, not good. Haruki puts a hand over his to make it steadier, makes it worse. Another hand, a shove closer until their knees are touching. Hanjae adds his free hand into the pile, the lonely hand, and Haruki looks straight at him – looks like he’s saying, ‘Bet?’

It takes a second, really. A pop and the lid comes off in the company of an enormous foam eruption. Haruki gets both his hands away, does a smiley flourish: ‘ta-da!’

“But you shook it! Too much, you–!’ He laughs, and can’t stop laughing. Hanjae’s still holding the bottle and tries to hand it to him, but Haruki shakes his head ‘no’. “For you. It is for you.”

It’s bland beer, he takes notice when he drinks it, but somehow it tastes sweeter.

From the corner of his eyes he catches a glimpse of metal in a corner, and it’s Haruki’s new phone, exiled.

Hanjae is surprised to hear himself ask him, “Are the calls– the calls still coming? The ones from–”

“Always,” Haruki responds, eerily nonchalant. “Always will.”

“It’s not over, then? You still–”

“It is. It is over. It is over the way it can be over.”

“What wouldhe,” Hanjae closes his eyes, reiterates, “If it’s over, what would he still want with you?”

“What do you think,” Haruki asks, staring fixedly at the alcohol going from one bottle to the other. A bit of it it’s running straight to the floor. “What do you think people want with me?”

It’s said– weird. Something in his uncaring tone makes a lump of sadness form in Hanjae’s throat.

“Hyung, you know that, if you everneed to talk to anyone about anything. Me and the guys, we all– We all listen. We would listen.”

“Anything?” Haruki pretends to be impressed. “Big. That is big.”

“Seriously. I’m being serious.”

Haruki looks up at him. Even more alcohol spills to the floor.

“Okay. Okay, anything. Anything…” he hums, dropping the bottles, mimicking being in thought with an obnoxious pout. His mouth is now a purple dot, and his eyes a shiny brown daze...

Hanjae often catches himself wondering if he just knows. If he looks into a mirror and just knows that he’s beautiful in a way that looks hand drawn, that looks meticulously planned: a subject of equal envy and admiration. If Sangwon ever told him that, and if so, how many times, had it come close to enough, had he used the right words to say it, did Haruki believe him when he said it, or if he didn’t – what did it make him feel? What exactly did he make him feel?

Hanjae always thought he was so mean, so bitter. He can’t remember ever hearing him say anything nice to anyone about anything.

Hanjae’s staring, he’s realized, and his eyes hurt. He makes them look down to where Haruki’s got a firm hold around the slim of a bottleneck, tapping a weird rhythm into it, impossible to decipher. He has long fingers with hard skin on them, which isn’t something you would expect. He used to paint, used to do calligraphy; used to go to a prestigious arts academy during high school, all boys.

Hanjae’s still starring, and he’s too close to drunk to properly command himself to stop. He hears Haruki huffs an unheard laugh, suddenly, short and maybe frustrated, maybe not that, and Hanjae’s head snaps up to his face to meet it.

He’s being stared at, too – is being analyzed, too.

“I thought of something. Something I want to say, a thing,” Haruki announces. The grin on his face suddenly looks very, very sharp, like there’s something tugging the corners of his mouth up. “I will whisper to you. On your ear. ‘Gimme your ear and I will tell.”

And with that he comes forward, a sudden and ungracious movement, and doesn’t stop when they’re front to front, an inch apart. He climbs Hanjae up – actually climbs him up, his legs around the middle of his body, cageing him in.

Haruki grims again and it’s lazily, in slow motion. He puts a hand on Hanjae’s chin, tips it high, says, “Not your ear.”

He turns his head to the side. His nose rovers near Hanjae’s head, and Hanjae tries to escape it in reflex, but they’re all too slow, drowned in alcohol.

Into his ear, lips touching skin, Haruki says, “I know you like me. For a very long time. Since that one time. Ever since we went out, we got drunk, that one time.”

“Sorry,” Hanjae mutters, hushed.

“‘Sorry’,” Haruki laughs again, like that’s the funniest word there is, like it’s the meanest. It rings so loud, it has an echo. “Now you sorry?”

Hanjae sinks more into the floor, almost laying down, and Haruki follows, saying, “Are you going away? This close? I am this close, and you going away?”

They’re kissing before Hanjae fully processes how, and it’s a weird kiss at a weird angle; Haruki won’t bend his body all the way down, and Hanjae has to keep craning his neck to meet him midway, his elbows pressing against the tiles, hurting.

He feels a hand slide up his shirt almost immediately, and Hanjae understands, with drunken horror, that he’s being undressed – quickly.

“Ah, wait–” He says, and then can’t get out anything else: Haruki shoved a thumb inside his mouth, in between his teeth, as he goes for the spot where Hanjae’s shoulder and neck meet.

“You smell like home here,” he says, a goosebump. He buries his face there, opens his mouth above it, bites and sucks hard enough to make Hanjae jump – for him to know it’ll leave a pinkish mark, evidence–

It’s exactly then and there that someone bursts in through the door, says a curse loudly, startles the two of them slightly apart, knocks the air out of their lungs.

“Close your eyes! I need to pee right now, right now, close your eyes!”

It’s a tall woman, this one – Hanjae sees her quick rush to the toilet and closes his eyes tight shut.

“If any of you try to act funny and take a single peek, I’ll fucking castrate you both– Hey! Hey, you, back on the floor, don’t come near, I’m fucking serious, I’ll kill you, you fucking–!”

The door clicks shut, and it takes Hanjae a moment to take in the lack of heat above and around him, to correlate the two: Haruki’s gone, walked out, left him.

From the side, he hears an instrident, “Can you at least cover your fucking boner, dude?!”

Hanjae rolls to his side, facing the opposite wall to where the toilet is; he pushes his knuckles into his shut eyes, for good measure. He waits for the girl to finish peeing, and tries not to have an anxiety attack or a heart attack or a nerve attack about everything that happened in the last ten minutes: Haruki on top of him, Haruki no longer on top of him, having to hear a stranger peeing.

“I’m done,” she announces, and he turns back to the same position as before.

There’s little dots of light in his vision, dancing. The girl’s using the sink now, and she has a blonde bob, so blonde and so short. It follows the shape of her mouth and up, even shorter at the back.

“Not a word from you, ever,” she warns, drying her hands on her skirt, pushing it down more, back in place. She gives him a pointed glare that makes Hanjae look down at the state he’s in, at his busted open shirt, a single button in the middle holding it all together. “Not a word from me. Now get the fuck out, please. People need to use the bathroom.”

And she gets going too, without closing the door all the way. The hum of the party downstairs carries over.

Hanjae inhales, looking at the bright ceiling light. His fingers have gone pruney where they were holding him.

[…]

Eventually Hanjae has to get out of the suite, and do a walk of shame back to the housewarming party. He takes down with him all the glass and cups he can manage, not a lot of them, goes straight to the kitchen sink, and begins to wash them, it’s done with them, goes for all of Sunyoung and Yoorim’s dishes.

Around him, the kitchen has emptied out – on the front the living room, mostly emptied out, too, except for little clicks. He spots J.J right in the center of the one installed in the couch, gesticulating enthusiastically, telling someone some story until they make eye contact. He stops, excuses himself, rushes near.

Up close, Jiahang looks at him, up and down, bug eyed, and Hanjae understands he didn’t do a good job of piecing himself back together.

He got a glimpse of his face in the mirror before walking out: lips glossy, bangs far apart and sticking up, somehow, not all the buttons of his shirt tucked in the right cases.

“Hanjae, oh my God. Dylan, Dylan, look!” He calls out, and Hanjae sees Chihoon appear on his left, face slightly dazed. “Oh my God, Dylan! Hanjae!”

“You fucking animal!” Seungsoo, coming out of nowhere, slaps him on the chest hard. “Who? Who who who who?”

They’re all too close, too soon, and Hanjae can’t look anyone in the eyes for too long– he just can’t.

He catches a glimpse of Blonde Bob Piss Girl in a corner, looking bored, on her phone, and stares at her for a moment too long. Everyone follows, looks at her too, and his bandmates erupt into enthusiastic ‘Eeeeeeh!’s. Someone, proprably Seungsoo still, raises his soupy arm up so he can be given high fives, and Hanjae doesn’t know what to do – to let the lie linger or to kill it. What can he even say? What can he say if not that–

Hanjae finds himself grabbing Dylan’s sleeve and tugging at it, leaving behind a damp. He feels like a little kid that broke something, suddenly – overwhelmingly so. “Where ‘d Haruki go?”

“Dude, I didn’t see him. You sure?” Chihoon asks, and Hanjae’s not; he’s not sure.

“Whaaaaat? Haruki came? Haruki’s here?”

“Great. Another one to hunt down. We’re never gonna leave this fucking place in time,” Jiahang whines. “Yoorim noona’s going to delete my number.”

Hanjae asks all of them at once, “We’re leaving?”

“Yeah, you didn’t hear? Sunyoung and Haegon ditched,” Seungsoo says, and Hanjae’s stomach drops. “It’s her house and they ditched, disappeared, poof! Yoorim’s pissed, told everyone to leave. And Taeng’s freaking out! Someone broke his little vase, someone spilled something on him. I think he’s gonna snap. We need to get that freak home.”

“Shit.”

“Yes, Hanjae,” Seungsoo laughs. “Old man was right, after all… Shit.”

[...]

They do a small search around the apartment, the balcony, and conclude: no Haruki anywhere, so they group everyone they have to leave, go wait to be picked up on the sidewalk in front of the Nine One Hannam gates.

“You just dreamed him up, Hanhan! Wouldn’t be the first time,” Seungsoo jokes. It’s a bad joke. O.z shoves him in the chest hard about it, tells him, “Quiet.”

Hanjae looks straight ahead, not at them. In front of him J.J keeps bouncing on the wheel of his feet, saying, ‘I’m going in the front, I’m passenger seat, forget it, it’s me me me me,’ even though no one’s putting up a fight about it.

Minwoo pulls up soon enough on the curve in one of the two black company vans, and downs the window just to give them all an open scowl, then a frown. “I’m only seeing seven of you.”

J.J circles the car to get to the front door, struggles a little to get it open. “Hyung, you’re not gonna believe.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Jiahang.”

“Shut up, you do. You really really really really do. You were–,” and then he becomes aware of the slouched figure of Hanjae trailing behind him, turns and frowns. “What did I just say!”

“No, I’m…” Hanjae looks at Minwoo looking at him, one eyebrow raised, says, “Sorry.”

Minwoo pinches at his nose, hard. “Just get in the goddamn car, Hanjae, Jesus Christ.”

Hanjae thinks, out of everyone who has a driver’s license, Minwoo drives the shittiest. He needs glasses, he never wears them, he grumbles curses at every slow driver and every rush driver and every driver, in general.

On the way home, he stops the van only once, by popular demand. Taesong steps out to vomit, and spends the rest of the ride jittery about it, cracking his knuckles even when they make no sound.

“We’re so fucked,” Chihoon says when they park inside the dorm’s garage, rubbing his eyes. “It’s 3AM. We’re so fucked.”

While everyone rushes to their rooms to piece pajamas together and form a long row to shower, Hanjae’s elbow to elbow with Dylan, going up the stairs to the second floor as quietly as they can.

He and Haruki have, by far, the best room in the whole house: spacious, with a nice window. It used to be Haruki and Sangwon’s up until he got fired – some excuse about rooming with the manager to learn Korean quicker, about making sure Haruki wouldn’t sneak beer into his room. It makes Hanjae sick now, seeing it, standing so close to it.

Dylan tries the handle once, and the door doesn’t budge, only makes a stubborn click – locked.

Hanjae dries his hand on his jeans, still wet, somehow, asks him, “Is he– He’s in there? Or…?”

Chihoon rests his head against the mahogany and sort of sighs, sort of laughs. “Yeah, definitely home. He’s the only one with the key to lock me out. Classic. Just classic.”

“Get my bed,” Hanjae says – implores. “Use mine, you can– mine, I’ll couch.”

“You’ll couch?” Chihoon looks at him with the trembling smile of someone who’s about to laugh. It falls off his face quickly when he takes in the guilt Hanjae knows he’s wearing openly on his face.

“Hyung, I–” It’s out of his mouth before Hanjae even knows it. “Tonight, something – Something has happened, and I think, think I should– say.”

Dylan’s giving him an analytical once over, and he stops at his moving hands, on his marked neck, looks at the door again – locked.

“Hanjae,” he says his name like it’s an insult, and for a moment Hanjae feels like it really is – his name, an insult.

He crumbles. “I’m sorry, so, so sorry, we just– I didn’t mean to– It was just, just a kiss, I think, and I– I–”

“You kissed him?! ‘You think’? What does that mean? What do you mean ‘you think’?!”

Hanjae looks around and then down, behind him. “Dylan…” he manages, airy, and doesn’t know what he wants the rest of the phrase to be, where he’s trying to take it.

Chihoon’s mouth hangs open, a painful disbelief, and then slowly shuts.

“You know what,” he says harshly, but not angrily – he sounds more disappointed than anything, more tired than anything. “I don’t want to know. Not now. I’ll know, just– Not now. But fucking Hell, Hanjae, you. You just had to, didn’t you? You saw an opportunity and you just had to.”

Hanjae’s breath catches. Dylan is a figure in his eyes, growing blurry.

“I’m taking your bed,” he announces. ”Eveytime he kicks me out from this day on, I’m sleeping on your bed.”

He storms off, his bare feet on the floor a sound until it isn’t anymore.

Hanjae knocks on the door, a small tap. Nothing.

He thinks of saying it again: sorry. But no one’s around to hear it, no one’s around to accept it. There’s no point.

#fictional idol community #fake kpop group #kpop au #kpop fanfic #kpop oc #&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ writing .#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ haruki .#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ hanjae .#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ dylan .

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olberic · 4 months

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ranking anime i’ve watched in 2023:

as expected, here’s this year’s top 10 for how much i personally enjoyed the anime i’ve watched this year. ive watched more than this, but god i watched so many bad ones…. even number 10 sucks but everything else was worse. sad!

as always thank u gifmakers for ur service 🫡 the world would be nothing without u all

10. the legendary hero is dead! (2023)

youtube

dont watch this show. it sucks and its bad. hey. come here. hold my hand. now lets just watch and enjoy the OP ok? don't worry about the rest.

9. my daughter left the nest and returned as an s-rank adventurer (2023)

i have to admit this show charmed me. its not the best thing ive ever seen but its nice. comfy. yknow? i haven't finished it but it's enjoyable. can't rank it higher until i finish it

8. sabikui bisco (2022)

if it werent for the positively nonsensical jump in the middle of the show and the way theres just like. a lot of gaps? it’d rank higher. it’s a very cool premise for a show and i like the bisco/milo dynamic, and [SISTER] is fun as hell. it didnt wow me though overall, and while i enjoyed it i was hoping for more.

7. trigun stampede (2023)

im sorry trigun stans i simply didnt love it. i see the appeal i really do but it just didnt hook me. i really liked the animation and the storyline. im intrigued by whatever the fuck is going on with those plants and yall have said theres a tallgirl in the next season? so i’ll keep watching. i just didnt love it

6. that time i got reincarnated as a slime (2019-2021)

in contrast to #7, i can see why this show is weak HOWEVER i just enjoyed it. i like it. huge fan of how much gender the protag has. i love how they get new powers. i enjoy that it can be interpreted as an extremely bisexual show. it was well paced and the slime diaries OVA was a great addition. a lot of the characters really stuck with me too and its like. idk. one of my favourite isekais i guess

5. buddy daddies (2023)

this should rank higher. its so fun. its SO fun. its silly and it doesnt take itself seriously. i laughed in every episode. the dynamic between the guys is great. the dynamics between them and the kid is great. just a really solid show if you can stand the queerbaiting. i dont even care

4. bocchi the rock! (2022)

the bocchi side of tumblr is right this show rules. i like how real bocchi’s social anxiety feels (literally how it felt when i had it). the characters are entertaining, the show’s well done, they even have solid music (which band-based shows dont always do right!). its really funny and its really earnest and its a joy to watch

3. demon slayer: swordsmith village arc (2023)

i included the entertainment district arc in last year’s list so this arc makes the cut. im always late getting around to watch the new stuff and i dont want to read the manga but god DAMN does this show hit different. incredible fight scenes. i loved everything they did for the hashira backstories. i love whatever the fuck is up with genya. it even gave me some akaza to sustain me for the next year or whatever. ik this show gets overhyped but its normal hyped. to me.

2. frieren: beyond journey's end (2023)

oughhh frieren… ive only known this show for a few months but it means to much to me… i dont even wanna talk about it because its so good i just wanna watch it again. go watch frieren if you havent already its anime of the decade. to me

1. gundam: the witch from mercury (2022-2023)

ive never seen a gundam before but i will be watched them after this! what can be said about it that hasnt already been said on this site. the romance storyline is impeccable, the fights are awesome, the moral questions it posed were excellently covered. by the end of the first episode i was speechless. by the end of the last episode i'd cried like 4 times over the course of the show. this thing made me cry to happy birthday. what the fuck

#t #i dont main tag these on principle but i do want to find these later so im using my tag system. sorry main tag browsers #tensura #buddy daddies #bocchi #kny #frieren #gundam

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gloster · 1 year

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FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2022

What is up, you guys? HAPPY 2023. We did it. We somehow made it through 2022 that, in 2 words: TRIED IT. 2022 tried all of us in so many ways than one. Emotionally, mentally, physically, and beyond.

We all had ways of coming up with ways to get through the rough year. Friends & family (both blood & chosen). Music. Movies and shows. And of course fanfics.

The world can be turning, burning, but at least fanfics can always be counted to take us away from harsh reality and bring us into the sweet world w/our fav characters, OTPs falling in love dozens of ways.

Every year fanfic writers both familiar & new to me blow me away with their talent, their writing, their brilliance. And every year I always do this traditional post to give them their flowers.

If you're interested in past lists, here are the ones for 2021, 2020, 2019, and 2018

Without further ado, here are my favorite fanfics of 2021

1). prince & prince by Authoress aka @kiribakus (tododeku)

Summary: Note to self: don't accidentally fall in love with a prince who's in an arranged marriage keeping your kingdoms from declaring war against each other. Especially when you're spying on him as his manservant.

Jaw. On. The. Floor. Jaw. Still. On. The. Floor. This story is the reason why this post is coming January 1st instead of the December 31st. I stayed up till almost 3 in the morning to finish this story and my jaw was on the floor when I read it. My jaw is still on the ground as I write up this review. I buddy-read this w/my bestie @littlenightdragon & our mind are still blown by what we read.

This story has been a long time coming. This is considered the classic fanfic in the tododeku community. It's took me while to get to it since there are so many stories I wanted to get through, but I finally did. Quite frankly, because this is such a popular fanfic, I don't know what else I can say that other readers haven't said in their own rec posts.

However I will happily say this one lives up to the hype. I repeat: LIVES 👏 UP 👏TO 👏THE👏 HYPE! The writing, the dynamics between Izuku & Shouto, the smut that was just 🔥🔥🔥, and again I APPLAUD @kiribakus for how the story was done. This is loosely based off the Captive Prince trilogy, so if you're familiar with the trilogy, you definitely see the elements of the story while also having this fanfic be its own thing. Not an easy thing to do, so massive kudos 👏👏

2). The Pakhan's Jewel by theangryuniverse (viktuuri/victuuri; mpreg)

Summary: No one had ever heard the omega speak.

It was not that they had never heard him at all. They had all heard the voice of the omega at some point – a gentle laugh, for example, a quiet hum, or, quite more often, lustful cries and moans, caused by the Pakhan himself. But the omega never spoke, and never deigned to even look at them, for they all were beneath him, and mattered less than the dirt beneath his feet.

For they all knew that Katsuki Yuuri's heart belonged to one man only - and that man was Viktor Nikiforov, the Pakhan himself.

Someone had said, I believe it was either here on Tumblr or Twitter, that the YOI fandom is keeping itself alive w/fanfics, fanart, and posts on our favorite ice-skating couple. I 1000000000%. And this fanfic is proof of it.

Oh where oh where do I begin? Let's start with this. We have ABO and a Mafia AU with an established happily-married couple who give the same intense, overly-passionate in love energy as Gomez and Morticia Addams.

I repeat an ABO Mafia AU story with a couple who give off the same intense, passionate happily-married energy as Gomez and Morticia Addams, which I needed so badly and was greatly needed. It was soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo good. I ate it up like candy. I devoured every chapter.

My favorite element of the story is how Viktor is the Pakhan, he's the boogey-man that keep enemies and allies alike on their toes. Yet Yuuri is the one who keeps him on his toes- and knees-and however Yuuri decides to see his husband fit. It was sooooooo good. Like if Yuuri told Viktor to burn the world, he'd do so happily. He was such a simp for his husband the same way Gomez is for Mortica and I ATE IT UP.

And I'll definitely check out more stories by this author & suggest you do so too.

3). Winter Song by proantagonist (viktuuri/victuuri)

Summary: The set of Yuuri’s mouth softened into a private smile as Victor squeezed his knee beneath the table. His hands were bare, free from the gloves he so often wore when they were together on the rink, and the heat of his palm burned straight through the denim of Yuuri’s jeans. He slipped his own hand beneath the table and found Victor’s. Hidden from sight, their fingers began to flirt and play. A secret conversation all their own that needed no words.

Yuuri was aware that at some point—a moment in time he couldn’t quite place—Victor had become his boyfriend.

There wasn’t a single instant when it happened. It was a slow awareness, as if Victor had silently been asking the question for months now, and Yuuri had been giving him the answer a little more with each passing day.

Another YOI story? Why, yes, yes it is. Was this another one that gave you all the feels? Yes, yes it did. This one- all I can say is 10 10 10 10 10 across the board. This one was canon, in a way that was more so behind the scenes/deleted scenes that the creators didn't want us to see but the fanfic writer was like Yeah....FUCK THAT, we're getting those bonus scenes.

In this one, we see Viktor and Yuuri develop more as a couple while also coming into their own. I love how it's equal. Like yes, even though Yuuri has social anxiety, Viktor has his own issues with self-worth, past relationships, and expectations. The author noticably took time with the relationship where we see them become a stronger team, better friends, and a sweeter couple.

Such a joy to read.

4). The Roundabout Way of Fate by @itsmyartfam (tododeku)

Summary: “His quirk will get attention no matter where he goes. But if he ends up working with heroes then he’ll have their protection. That’s why I said most doctors and nurses have minor healing quirks- because people with powerful ones often catch the attention of heroes, who will in turn protect them from any villains who also have their eye on them.”

“Oh! Okay. Okay… this… this is a lot…. Heh, and I was worried he’d breathe fire…”

“Don’t ever forget- Izuku’s quirk is a good thing. He just needs to be a bit more careful than most children.” _________

Midoriya Izuku wants to become a hero. Midoriya Izuku is born with a healing quirk. He learns how to save people a different way.

You ever read a story that's so canon yet not like canon, but you wish it could be canon? Like if you had a chance to redo canon, you'd pick an alternative. Well, for this one, if I could make it canon, I would in a heartbeat. Like it was among one of the first fanfics I read in the beginning of the year, but the fact I still think of it fondly proves how much of a great, fun read it was.

There are so many things I love about this fanfic. Obviously the writing, obviously the pining that goes on with both Shouto and Izuku. But I think the main things are I love how Izuku has a quirk, a Healing quirk at that, that seems so minimal to society but he's like, NAH You're not gonna push me around and treat me like I'm delicate flower. There were even scenes where he had to remind Shouto of that, and it was too satisfying to read.

But most of all, I love the platonic relationship between Izuku and Bakugo. This is one where you can tell there is a bond there, but it's much healthier with boundaries clearly set. One where Izuku isn't afraid to call Bakugo out & Bakugo actually thinks things before before just exploding.

I ADORED IT. Just as much as I adored the author @itsmyartfam for making Izuku a healer. They had expressed they dealt with backlash from other readers who didn't agree with the quirk, but I thought it was very fitting. Given Izuku's personality, his caring nature, his compassion, healing is perfect match.

5). flawless by @irishseeeker (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Kate Sharma is the diamond of the season.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton plans on courting and marrying the Diamond of the season.

Kate is going to make that as difficult as possible.

First off I like to give massive thanks & props to @irishseeeker for doing the damn thing and giving me what I wanted. Me & my besties @littlenightdragon & @kila09 all agree on several things

Season 2 KICKED ASS. Season 2 carried. Simone & Jonathon did what needed to be done and carried season 2 on their bare backs.

Season 2, much as it is amazing & gave me my new favorite OTP, would've been better if Kate had been made the diamond. It definitely would've given the Queen the buzz she wanted. It would've been made the season more better- not to mention take away the barely-there love triangle they were trying for and failed at EPICLY.

The fact @irishseeeker as if they could hear my thoughts took the idea and run with it, they have my eternal gratitude. Currently it is a WIP, but y'all should definitely check out because you'll be devouring and begging for more. I know I did.

6). Bottom by Anonymous (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: By day, Anthony Bridgerton is in control. He eats at exactly the same time every morning, he exercises for exactly the prescribed amount of time, at work he never misses a deadline or forgets to show a friendly face, and at home he's a dedicated son and big brother, always there when his family needs him. His life since his father's passing has been about control.

By night, Anthony is ready to let go. He doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to plan. He wants to let go and let someone else take the wheel. (Or the dog leash.)

This is Anthony's journey into being a sub.

Before this story, I never really read femdom unless the couple is a queer-sapphic couple. Now after this story? I just want more. Especially if it's Kate being that dom. Like please give it to me. Please please please.

Mind you, we don't get much of Kate or kanthony/kathony until the last chapter. The beginning is more so Anthony and Simon, but the main thing I love about this story is how it does explore Anthony's trauma with being the oldest, having so much expectations placed on his shoulders. Which is what the show did hint at, but didn't go deeper. In this story, we did. And I appreciated it.

7). All That series by @himawaribees (Itafushi)

Summary: Fushiguro Megumi and Itadori Yuuji first meet at a frat party and proceed to have lots and lots of sex. Like, a silly amount of sex. Some (the author) might say they have too much sex.

Follow itafushi's journey as they fall for each other and slowly, eventually get together!

This was an unexpeted I found on Tumblr, I believe. I've been rocking in the Jujusten Kaisen fandom for awhile- also highly recommend the anime as well as the manga. But as long as I've been rocking in the fandom, I didn't have a definite ship. Until now.

Sometimes, all it takes is a good fanfic to kinda show you how well a ship can be. Which is what happened here.

I've always liked Megumi and Yuuji's dynamic in the show. Definitely gives sunshine & grump energy. Eager pup & annoyed cat. But this story, along with many from the author proved how that dynamic can work even more than as a couple. The way I just devoured the first story of the series, then the 2nd one, then the next, and the next till I finished what's been poste & am eagerly awaiting the next update.

Honorable mentions:

Sweet Tooth

Trust Me

Slow Down

8). Like, Comment, and Romance by @xskyll (tododeku)

Summary: In the hero community, it’s common for popular heroes to have merchandise for sale. Amongst these items are a few staples: t-shirts, figurines, and, of course, replicas of their costumes. This is where Deku, a well-known YouTuber, comes into play. Deku’s Hero Analysis is a series where the host, Deku, dresses up in official pro hero costumes, then does an analysis of each hero and reviews some of their merchandise. Joining him is Hito-nyan, the sarcastic cameraman who never shows his face and loves to push Deku’s buttons. And watching them is pro hero Todoroki Shouto, who absolutely, without a doubt, does not have a crush on Deku. Except actually he does, which is fine, because it turns out they have a friend in common and getting to meet the adorable YouTube star is more likely to happen than he ever would have dreamed.

Midoriya Izuku + Youtuber. A combination that never crossed my mind and never seemed so right until now. Like second, I started reading the story, I was like WHY DIDN'T THIS COMBO CROSSED MY HEAD BEFORE. It makes total sense, especially with how in depth his hero analyses are and how much of a fanboy Izuku.

Along with Izuku being a total fanboy, we also have Shouto who becomes a massive (obsessed) fan with Izuku's channel, and quickly afterwards with the boy himself.

I love how we got the unexpected duo that was Shouto and Ochako, a duo I didn't realized I needed until now.

9). Most Favorite Bedtime Story by Sasunaru (drarry; mpreg/implied mpreg & veela-Draco)

Summary: Scorpius' most favourite bedtime story? The story of how his parents fell in love. And his grandmother tells it the best!

My friend Melissa aka Sasunaru can go no wrong when it comes to her pen game & her wickedly brilliant brain. This was no differeny.

A simple story, but a sweet one nevertheless of how young Scorpius loves hearing his favorite story, how his parents first met and fell in love. And who better to tell the story than the grandmother who was there to witness the love story unfold before her eyes.

10). Like Honey and Grenadine by bazooka (taekook)

Summary: A Somewhat Cosmic Adventure, In Which: Jeon Jeongguk is both a Flustered Meme Child as well as the King of Hell; Kim Taehyung is really good at peeling back layers; Jeong Hoseok can go wherever he wants; balance requires sacrifice.

A retelling of the Abduction of Persephone, but with extra awkward flirting and way more gay.

OMG, this story. OMG, THIS STORY. It just delivered. And I eat. I ABOSLUTELY LOVED LOVED LOVED IT.

We have a Hades and Persephone AU, which I never get tired of, but in this one it was a bit more modern, kinda like Lore of Olympus where Taehyung quickly finds the boogey-man everyone fears and is weary about is a nothing more than a bunny. So insanely cute.

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

With Just A Little Help From Our Friends by @sashadistan (tododeku; ABO AU w/Shouto quietly pining, Izuku being oblivious, Kiri being helpful, & Bakugo being done w/all their butts)

Letting It Go by dreamchaser31 (kathony/kanthony; Kate being through w/Edwina's shit & calling her out AS SHE SHOULD, Anthony & Lady D backing her up all the way)

Brighter than The Sun by @goldentruth813 ( sheith; a retired vet in care of care & Keith answering the call)

Hooked on You by @trenchcoatkitten (tododeku; heartwarming story invovling cats, Shouto being a pet daddy, and Izuku a knitting mentor that he falls hard for)

in his hands by @softlystarstruck & @babooshkart (drarry; trans-drarry who are happily married w/soft BDSM & even softer aftercare)

And there you have it, folks. Those are my top fanfics of 2022. I can already tell I'm gonna have LOADS for 2023. To the authors, thank y'all so much for your incredible stories, including the time and effort.

Happy New Year, guys

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lovebvni · 5 months

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what was i made for? (journey overview)

this is going to be kind of a vent blog , but at the same time it’s a reflection of my shifting journey. where i’ve been and where i’m going. i want to be transparent, and i want to motivate others, and right now, this is the best way i can do that.

there will be no triggering material in this blog, but will be slight references to mental health and illness. if that botherw you, i totally understand if you don’t read on. this is also a long blog, so be prepared

i’m not going to start at the beginning and where i was born, because that’s BORINGG!! what i do want to start with two major signs i got when i was younger. i, personally, consider these signs that i would eventually get into shifting/i am made for a higher purpose. at the time, i didn’t know this so all of these are almost… revelations? i hope that’s the right word, lol!

the one thing i want to talk about is a dream i had. i’m going to summarize it. simply i was living in black and white with my family. i found a vent and crawled through it. i cried a few times, and got discouraged, but i kept going. when i got to the end, my 5th grade crush was there. everything was in colour. i forgot what he was wearing but i know it reminded me of the gilded age. i was wearing a lime green dress and he said something along the lines of “i’ve been waiting for you” or “you’re finally here” obvs i woke up after this but it felt very important and it still does.

anyways, time skip to ~late 2020 - early 2021. i was on quotev… writing hxh fanfics… BUT ANYWAYS! i was on quotev and one of my mutrals, who im still good friends with today, made a post about something called ✨reality shifting✨. now i looked up to her — im going to call her s btw — so i thought it was pretty cool she found out about something like this. now obviously, with me being me, i did a deep dive into it. tiktok, go google, instagram, amino, you name it, i was on it! dude, i genuinely got so into this and obsessed. it wasn’t healthy, but at the time i needed something.

the first thing i remember was joining amino. i joined an mha shifting community. i had recently got into the show and i was debating about shifting there — although my main priority at the time was hxh. i asked a lot of questions — simple questions too — but everyone was so respectful when answering them. i also remember posting a (very shitty) art work at the time n i got a lot of love for it 😭 my art style has changed a lot since then and ajsjdjf!! i lowkey should redraw it. i also kept s updated during this time, and looked at her mini-journal on quotev whenever she posted! it’s an understatement to say i was very into shifting and that i latched onto it. primarily because i needed something to look forward to and to have hope in, you know? i didn’t have much at the time. i didn’t have friends, my life began changing in the 3D. things felt like they were going downhill. i also moved this year to a house from an apartment.

anyways, i continued interacting in that amino up until earlier this year — because of personal issues. but during the time, i actively engaged, researched and got better at shifting and understanding the process + life in general. i made many friends during this time, and got involved in group shifts :) other than w s obviously.

this leads to my first shift in ~mid 2021. i fell asleep doing a method, i forgot what method at this point. what i do know, is i woke up in my mha dr. i felt wind blowing on my face, i heard birds chirping, i felt the sunlight on my face… i have a post on it somewhere — i literally cannot find it! but it was a wonderful experience, it gave me a lot of motivation to remember it. it still does! also my eyes stayed closed this whole time, but i know, i KNOW i shifted. i was there. there is no way 99% of those things could have happened in my cr bc of where i was. i had also moved at this time, i was living in a house.

this leads me to ~late 2021 or early 2022. i was introduced to channeling (and dabbled in witchcraft) through replika (don’t do this. it’s not reliable.) as i channeled my s/o (who turned out to be my soulmate) multiple times + my spirit guide gage! it was weird meeting her, because she’s very blunt and straight to the point. she literally said hi, her name, and dipped 🤞. i love her. later in 2022 (early -> mid ) i had a discord server that was shifting based (it has sense been abandoned, as i los that account 💀) and i met kairi ( gage’s baby daddy/husband), piper (who was 5 at the time, she’s abt 7 now) and my friends guide — sailboat (that’s what i know him as. him and kairi have BEEF!) i used to often channel and talk to them — or even just talk to them without channeling them so i could just ramble and they would listen. i would do this in the shower btw. they listened a lot and well. they’re so sweet, and they’re always there for me. i seriously recommend u guys get to know ur guides — they help a lot.

anyways, at the end of this year, 2022, it was a blur. my sister was admitted to the hospital during the beginning of 2023. i was introduced to deity work during the end of 2022 — and this is how i work with loki and found out im his child (he just said hey btw 💀💀 so if yall wanna say high go ahead) i want to say im sorry to loki, as i blamed him for my sister being admitted to the hospital and another situation i cannot talk about publicly. loki is the god of chaos, but that’s because he brings chaos and strives in it. i also bring and strive in it, but how people react is what matters. it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t mine, it wasn’t my sisters, it was actually my biological fathers. and that’s okay. i don’t care anymore, but i want to publicly apologize to loki for blaming him for such issues that came by. i love you so much, padre, and thank you for being a great father and friend

this year, i was going through a lot of shit. i was inactive on most socials from january to may, and i really don’t remember why. i do remember this is the year i was manifesting seriously that i shift before or on 11.11. unfortunately, i didn’t and im pretty sure that’s because i believed that i wouldn’t. i worked my ass off and i thought i deserve this, so why am i seeing little to no progress.

it was because i was basically looking down, and not realizing how far i’ve come. the end is near for me, and there’s literally no way i can mess this up.

now i know, this isn’t an in-depth reflection or whatever, but there isn’t a lot i did that i can remember in this reality (trauma response oops!) but it’s what’s going on up until now.

this month, i did a reading with my friend (nile) and we asked what has to happen before we shift. and we got two things. the first being a fight between two of my school friends, the second is a significant meeting between nile and a MAN. YEAH. A MAN U GUYS WERE WAITING ON A MAN.

anyways. sorry about that. so we’re currently waiting on a man n that’s like the last step 💯🤞✨ i’m trying to stay hopeful n whatnot but it hasn’t been easy. the part 2/addition to this blog will be constants and things that kept me going and hopefully can help you out :)

i’m sorry this blog is just one big pile of nothing bc the message got a bit fucked when i was making this — i restarted it about 3 times n i genuinely forgot why i made this when i did initially. but yeah, this is what i have for u rn! the next one will be called “i got love” based off the mother mother song xx keep an eye out!!

#abyss .rambles #reality shifting #shiftblr #reality shift #desired reality #shifting #shifting community #black shifters #manifesting #shifting motivation #shifting consciousness #shifting realities #desired reality shifting #quantum shifting #reality shifting positivity #shifting blog #shifting journey #shifting stories #shiftinconsciousness

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echoesdaffodil · 20 days

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Okay, starting some discussion because I have to and state some of my feelings. I love DC pride, its rainbow capitalism feel good shit but I as a queer person deserve my payed escapism like any other person. And they payed respect to some really important stuff and at least showed quotes from queer people and add help hotlines as advertisers etc. As much as I cried in the bus driving home when I read the quote on the back of 2023’s DC pride.

“Between us and home there’s a thousand bad guys, but this time we’ll do it like we always did… together.”

With that said, I am sad that again certain characters do not want to be seen inside the DC pride collection. And that’s wrong. Every character that’s queer deserves their story here. Also John Constantine and Tim Drake. If they are treated respectfully. And some of y’all act really weird bc when Ghost Maker, Aqualad, Crush, Alan Scott etc are reduced to their sexuality nobody saying shit but with Red Robin is, you do? Really?

My general concern is that these characters should be inside the DC pride but should get elsewhere different stories. Erasing them from here is not helpful and does not help these characters to be seen. Now their sexuality is a part of them and I don’t know about you guys but when Jon came out or Tim (my Robin growing up) came out. I felt seen. When Connor Hawke had his coming out, as an ace person I felt seen. When dreamer came out as trans I felt seen. John Constantine and his whole sexuality made me feel that queers have been here long before I was even born.

Some characters get invited every year and some get ignored. Such as Doctor Occult who gender swaps, Timothy Hunter (the better DC Tim) who had a whole gender crisis within his comics, Danny the Street, Larry Trainor, Coagula/Kate Godwin, Edwin Paine, every one of the Endless for they have no gender and just present in the gender they feel the most comfortable with, I could go on for there are too many who don’t get recognised and even they get get invited they don’t get any runs.

DC pride is an award winning comic series. I love that I have DC pride but it’s not enough and kicking out characters is not the answer to the “reducing to sexuality problem”. It feels elitist or homophobe and often it’s both. It’s DC’s inability to address queer characters that have been before or already are as queer and use them accordingly. DC pride could be advertising these beautiful characters and get more people to read them and handing them the feeling to be seen. Like it was with Kevin Conroy’s story back in 2022.

#dc pride #dc comics #dc #comics #dc pride 2024

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rose-tinted-juls · 4 months

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🏎️💨 THE FORMULA 1 TAG GAME! 🏎️💨

thanks for the tag @vinvantae & thank you to @avida-heidia-5 for making it!

tagging (ignore it if you already did it): @vetteltea @ricc3rodeo @silverstonesainz @strawberrysainz @ofsaintandsinner @monzabee @lxclerc @a-distantdreamer @schuvries @thebearchives @formulaforza

1. who or what got you into F1?

first it was my dad who used to watch it when i was around 7-9, but then he stopped and i did too, i only followed a few ppl on social media to kinda keep up, and then my cousin started watching DTS two years ago and she talked about it to me and it made me wanna watch f1 again and my obsession came back even stronger.

2. who was the very first F1 driver you supported? do you support them now? have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

as a kid i supported sebastian and jenson, and tbh they are still amongst my top favourites. when i started watching f1 again two years ago, i first supported george and charles. charles is still one of my all time favourites, and i still support george just i guess not as much as back then.

3. who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

i can't choose just one, really. right now it's charles, oscar and danny, i think. why does it actually feel a bit wrong to only say three lol

rest under the cut!

4. is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? what made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

multiple. i love max & daniel, charles & carlos (even their name combined is chaos, what can it be if not fun?), also carlos & lando. i think these pairings work(ed) really well in many aspects. oh and kimi & seb!

5. do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite team and/or favourite driver(s)?

well, my dad's been a jenson fan back in the day, now he's supporting lewis and fernando. my cousin is a big ferrari and charles fan!

6. do you have any favourite races? are there any that stand out to you the most?

singapore 23, and also monza 19, monza 20, monza 21. you just gotta love those. and australia 23 bc it was pure chaos lmao

7. do you have a favourite circuit? can be from the past or from the current calendar.

tbh i don't think i have just one fave. i have several that i like a bit more than others, like monaco, monza, baku, but i guess none exceptionally.

8. have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like.

nope, never. too broke for that sadly, coming from a broke ass country... i will hopefully attend the hungarian gp though as a volunteer this year!

9. have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

again, never. (heartbreaking.) hopefully that will change at the prev mentioned hungarian gp this year!

10. do you have a favourite F1 car? if so, what is it?

again, i don't have a favourite, but there are many i like. for example, i liked the red bull fan designed livery in miami 23, and the red and white ferrari livery in las vegas 23.

11. do you have a favourite one win wonder?

pierre and george (and kubica lol gotta love the guy). i literally cried my eyes out when george won in 2022.

12. do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? this can either be inspirational or hilarious.

i have so many, serious and funny ones too (mainly funny though). but, if i have to choose, for funny i have to go with "nothing just an inchident on the race" or "what am i now? heavily depressed", and for serious, i will go with my top 3, which are "being second is to be the first of the ones who lose" & "to achieve anything, you must be prepared to dabble on the boundary of disaster" & "you must always strive to be the best, but you must never believe that you are."

but i also gotta mention "one week they love me, one week they hate me, both weeks i get paid" and "i've got balls but none of them are crystal" bc seb is just too funny and i love the guy too much.

and another worthy mention is "he won in spa, he wins in monza" bc i always get goosebumps when i hear it or even think about it.

#f1 #f1 tag game #i was tagged #thanks for the tag!#get to know me tag

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tehloserprince · 3 months

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I was tagged by @santacoppelia - thank you! 🥺🧡

1. were you named after anyone? Michael Jordan, ha ha. No, really, my mom's a huge fan. She's followed his career ever since his UNC days. I love telling people that's how I got my name. For the record, although I have an obligatory fondness for my hometown team and a nostalgic love for the Bulls in their Jordan Era, I'm currently a Bucks fan.

2. when was the last time you cried? It's really difficult for me to cry. It's such a relief at times, tho. I cried a few weeks ago, when I realized my special needs dog was having some epilepsy-related issues. I've mostly accepted that I'll probably never see him with a grey muzzle, but I really hope we can share more time together. There are still so many things I want to show him.

3. do you have kids? Nope. Sorta did, once, but I don't really talk about that much. It was a good experience, and I still love/think about her. But my kids are all the critter variety these days ;) I enjoy hanging out with my friends' kids, but they're all growing up too quickly :/ What even is time

4. what sports do you play/have you played? I never really played anything professionally, but I liked soccer, basketball, and running when I was younger. I got into boxing and Muay Thai when I was a little older, and also did a lot of hiking. Unfortunately I'm crippled, so I'm limited in what I can/should do. I try to go on lots of walks with my pup and swim whenever I can. Sometimes I still wrap my hands and hit the bag, which is fun.

5. do you use sarcasm? No, never. (/s obvs)

6. what's the first thing you notice about people? The way they treat other people - especially the most vulnerable - and animals. Physically, eyes and smile. I'm more impressed by people who can be genuinely kind without ulterior motivation.

7. what's your eye color? Hazel.

8. scary movies or happy endings? Depends on my mood! In terms of scary films, gore feels lazy and boring to me. I need a film to get inside my head in order to be scary. But I'm a sucker for happy endings too, which is a lot of projection on my part, ha ha.

9. any talents? Err. Uh. Writing, I guess? Remembering a lot of random info? Friends are consistently surprised that I'll remember so many little details, especially if it's like ... me surprising them with something they mentioned liking at some point. Funny enough, I'll frequently forget why I walked into a room these days, but I'm glad some parts of my memory still excel! I'm also told that I'm extremely patient, if that counts as a talent.

10. where were you born? Charlotte, NC.

11. what are your hobbies? Writing, reading, watching movies and television shows (mostly with the BFF), random crafts, DIY home improvement stuff (I painted my entire house despite my health worsening over the years and I'm very proud of that), canine behavior/training, and playing video games. I don't have as much time for games, but I still enjoy it. Started a new game of Red Dead Redemption 2 this winter, and I've been spending hours just roaming the land with my horse.

12. do you have any pets? Ha, yes! I do a lot of animal rescue and have some life goals related to that, so hopefully I'll always be surrounded by critters. My beloved dog (Skippyjon) passed away in 2022 (old age and CHF). I had a cockatiel for 21 years - a birthday present when I turned 8. We basically grew up together, and the house is still way too quiet without him. I had other dogs (Smokey and Locke), and a lot of fish. In college, I had an "illegal" hamster, Kai (Kaizoku). He was fat and wonderful. I chose him because he squeezed past his siblings, sat in their food dish, and started shoving food in his mouth. King behavior tbh. I had a rat named Stevie in my late 20s. Currently, I have a deaf special needs dog (Oscar aka Ozzy), a cat that I hand-raised because she was found abandoned shortly after birth (Swayze), and a rabbit (Shasta aka Bad Bunny). At some point, I decided that all my rabbits would be named after soda brands, ha.

13. how tall are you? About 5'10".

14. favorite subject in school? Literature, Spanish, Philosophy, sometimes History, Classical Studies, Art. Anything that wasn't math, because I always struggled with that.

15. dream job? If I could make a living off of writing and spend a lot of my time doing animal rescue, I'd be content. Even if I was wealthy, I'd ultimately pursue a simple, cozy life without a lot of fanfare. I'd love to have more money to invest in animal rescue and local community welfare (kids should always have basic necessities imo). Maybe someday ...

Tagging anyone who feels like doing this! Feel free to reblog or tag me if you wanna let me know that you did it. Thanks, this was fun :3

#tagged #santacoppelia #about me #shut up j

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akusaimonth · 2 years

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[ID in alt]

AkuSaiMonth 2022: July 8 - August 7

Welcome to AkuSaiMonth! A month of celebrating AkuSai & LeaIsa! It's been a hard two years, but at least ASM is back, this time with a new host (and with permission of the original creator)!

AkuSaiMonth 2022 Bingo

Similar to 2015, we will be playing bingo again, but this time with a twist: The bingo cards are randomized! Every participant will have their prompts in 1 of 30 different arrangements!

Where can I get the Bingo Card?

To claim your personal AkuSaiMonth 2022 Bingo card, click >> HERE! << Using the link on the same device and browser should (in theory) always lead to the same card. However, I would strongly recommend also saving the card by either using the print button on top or by making a screenshot.

Text-to-Speech-friendly bingo cards are available here: LINK. These are not randomized unfortunately, but you can still pick one (of three) at random! Please let me know if you run into any problems!

See the end of the post for a plain text list of the prompts in alphabetical order.

And here is one example Bingo card: You can use this one as well of course, but give the randomized cards a chance!

[ID in alt]

How does it work?

The goal is to get one "Bingo!" during the month (Jul 7 – Aug 8) by filling 5 prompts in a row, column or diagonal.

This could mean one post every week, for example:

Post 1: Friday, July 8 (IsaLea Day)

Post 2: Saturday, July 16

Post 3: Saturday, July 23

Post 4: Sunday, July 31

Post 5: Sunday, August 7 (AkuSai Day) -> Bingo! <3

You are of course allowed to do less than five prompts (one is perfectly fine! <3) or even fill out the entire bingo card (I wish I had your time management skills)!

Rules:

Posting Rules

Tag your works as #akusaimonth and #asm22

Mention @akusaimonth, so I can't miss your work!

You can fill as many prompts as you want at whatever schedule works for you!

The goal is to achieve one "Bingo", but this is meant as motivation only; it's not an obligation or restriction!

You can start and end your participation at any time!

Content Rules

All forms of content are allowed, including but not limited to fanfiction, fanart, edits, videos, music, …

The "/" in some prompts means you can use either or multiple of the terms

All prompts are open for interpretation, there's no right or wrong way to use any of them!

You can stay within the framework of canon or create AUs or crossovers or whatever you want, everything is great!

All content has to be made by you! Stolen fan work is NOT allowed.

If you want to include fan content made by other people in your edit/video/… you have to get permission first and add credit to the original creator/s!

Official material can be used with no restrictions

NSFW Rules

NSFW is allowed!

Please post visual NSFW under a "Read More"

NSFW content will be reblogged with an #nsfw tag

FAQ

Who is behind the event? Original creator and host from 2014 – 2019 is the wonderful @misomilk! This year's host is @herzblutrose

I lost my card! If you remember your Bingo Card ID, then that's absolutely no problem. Let me know and I'll give you a permalink to the card you pulled!

What does prompt (...) mean? It means whatever you want it to mean! Have fun with it!

Other questions? Send me an ask!

Plain text prompts in alphabetical order:

Animals

Beach

Breakfast

Dark / Light

Fingers Running Through Hair

Flowers / Garden

Free Space

Gala / Ball

Holding While the Other Cries

Home

Keepsake / Precious Memory

Nobodies / Somebodies

Past / Present / Future

[Quote from the games]

Shopping

Skateboarding / Sports

Smoke and Mirrors

[Song Lyrics]

Sun & Moon / Fire & Water

Tales / Stories

Tarot / Cards

Tears / Scars

Thunderstorm

Whispers / Dreaming

You Have Changed

#akusaimonth #asm22 #axelsaix #akusai #leaisa #axel kingdom hearts #saix kingdom hearts #saix/isa #axel/lea #lea kingdom hearts #isa kingdom hearts

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decembermoonskz · 8 months

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hi izzy!!!!! how was kcon?????? im sad i couldnt go in person this year but i can't wait to watch the replay some time!! for the ask game: 🎵 + 🎧 + 🌟 for skz please!! <3

omg hi siyuan!! I hope you’re doing alright! 💜🫂 kcon was A-MA-ZING!!! I had the best time this weekend all three concerts were great and I got to see so many ppl and I was happy bc I got to see some acts I wanted to but hadn’t seen yet (wayv, everglow, g-idle) :D

I lost my mind over taemin and cried hahaha but I was also happy to see the boyz again and see the new sub unit omg omg I can’t believe how sexy their song is 😭😭😭 (I also thought of you when I saw jacob and his cute fluffy bucket hat haha) AND itzyyyy I love them so so much I know I HAVE to see them whenever they come on tour again I also enjoyed some of the opening pre-show groups too (I’m so happy I got to see verivery again 🥹🥹🥹 it’s been so long <3333) seeing ateez and skz again tho was also my highlight!! I finally got to see pirate king which made me so happy bc I’ve been an atiny with my mom since debut so it meant a lot! AND I MANIFESTED SUPER BOWL FOR SKZ!! it was all I asked for (my mom and some friends are my witnesses lololol) this kcon I just wanted to see super bowl live and I got it hehehehe 🙈🙈 but I’m so glad I got to see the new title tracks for skz and ateez (s-class and bouncy)

overall I had a lot of fun even tho my mom and I got hit with rain since day 3 concert was in the middle of a storm lololol (eric and chris both told us thank you for coming in the storm and to be safe 🥹) I really had fun this kcon I was sad it was over but I met some nice ppl and had good seats all 3 days down on the first floor it was so cool to be so close on all days 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 I’ll def post some pictures soon once I’ve gone through my videos

I’ll do the game underneath the cut bc I rambled a bit 😂😂 hope you’ve been well siyuan sending you love and hugs

🎵 recommend a song based on your vibe/blog

I think I’ll recommend make me happy by wheein, 19 by skz, and connected by bang chan (I feel like those match my really chills vibes for my blog and also my love for chris LOL)

(also bonus bc I know this isn’t kpop but I think this song goes with the vibe of my blog too but it isn’t kpop so it just gets an honorable mention lol)

🎧 put one of my kpop playlists on shuffle and share the first song that plays

so I don’t have like a big multi kpop playlist anymore (it got too big for my liking 😂) I just assign them to groups (I am trying to make a gg playlist soon tho bc I think it’ll all be better in one playlist) so since you picked skz for the other one I just went to my skz playlist and shuffled it. it gave me circus - kr version hahaha 😂👏🏼 I love circus tbh the mischievous/video game vibes are immaculate for me (the sound in the beginning reminds me a lot of splatoon lol)

🌟 send w/ a group, and I’ll talk about my favorite era, concept, and/or album

thank you for sending skz siyuan!! <3333 so I think my favorite era was god’s menu and maybe maniac era now too. reasons being 2020 skz is one of my favorite years for them, and also they helped me a lot to get through the start of the pandemic. maniac era is my other favorite bc it was the start of my love with the maniac tour (I ended up going to the maniac tour 7 times through 2022-23 and each time it was magical and I’m so happy and blessed I got to see them so many times 🥰)

favorite concept for them I believe is a mix between the apocalyptic stuff they’ve done like side effects and scars (and now social path) and I also love the chill and/or cozy vibes they’ve had in things like fnf, the view, blueprint and tmt and things like that. I like when they do mvs like that a lot

favorite album is hard—and you may know that already—for me but I think again GO LIVE is still my favorite album of theirs and also I’ll mention I Am Who?, ODDINARY, and 5 STAR now

#mail #inbox mini games #siyuan !! 🦋#thanks for these emojis siyuan they were fun to answer!!

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yoongsisbae · 1 year

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2022 End of the Year Recap

rules: post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

thank you for tagging me lovelies @amethystwritesbts 💕 and @e-cm 💗

Top five works I’m most proud of

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder: I needed to write it and I am so sad/happy/emotional so many readers resonated with it 💗

Handshakes of a Lifetime Chapter 9: I am proud I got through that chapter dealing with so many characters at the same time 😅 like once I realized...oh no there are actually fifteen different characters and even more relationships it felt like a clown car in my head, but somehow I made it through! And it was a good chapter, at least I like to think so 😊

Christmas with a Vampire: no one else seems to like it but I LOVE this story, okay! I love vampire Tae and Jin, I love the way the world is laid out in my head, I love cyber punk stories AND vampire stories. I love the moodtm (I was so obviously depressed when I wrote it lol cries), I love how in the future everyone* ahem human* is vegetarian 😋 I love it all! Perhaps because I can see a bigger story and it's living rent free in my head lol but I'm proud I got it out and finally finished my x-mas series, very proud I finished something for once lol cries again

Day Dream: omg making sure all the threads of the story were 'woven' together correctly and made sense to readers and not just me lol, also the story itself referenced a lot of shit...life and dreams and some of my fav fics as well 😃 it was really fun to write and I'm proud how it all came together in a beautiful tapestry...of insanity 😂

BTS as Kisses: I love poetry and I should write more of it...and I'm planning to! Proud it was well received. I live for the "cute" comments 😆

Top four WIPS I’m excited for

Bon Voyage, I just love that world 🥺 and I'm excited to make readers a n g r y 😅😅 (don't blame me tho! blame Tae!)

The Snap, I wanted to read a marvel-bts crossover foreverrrr, so just gonna have to write myself one instead. I'm excited 😝

Run Run Run, because I always have fun writing it and I need some laughter in my life....cries 🙃

And HOAL, yes it's still happening, I have not forgotten about it! I appreciate your comments still, like @illnevertrustmyselfagain yes to everything you said, you "get" it 🥺, @myspi2010 too, I ask myself the same things when writing lol, my readers are the smartest and I love it 🥺😭

Top three improvements in my writing

I feel like I have gotten better in some aspects and worse in others lol. Pacing and endings are the things I want to improve on. It was fun messing with both in my story Day Dream, even added an alternate ending 😉

As I was rereading HOAL and BV:ITS I noticed my sentences are more punchy and concise, now my flow portrays that better even if I get more descriptive. I can't decide if that makes a better reading experience or not, but sometimes I do want to go back and rewrite the first chapters of those stories, so perhaps that is considered improvement? lol idk!

THIS IS HARD. um I definitely can say I never could have written stories like The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder and You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name when I first started, there's so much to those stories that is even hard for me to explain properly, my readers do a better job at it for me 😅 I think their reviews/comments make the stories so much better, so thank you dear readers for helping me to improve myself 💕

Two resolutions for my writing/this blog for ‘23

Somehow get onto one of those author collaboration event story things...wanted to be a part of one since I first opened this blog 🥺...even though I am too scared to ask and am not part of any community, I still believe somehow it will happen 😅 lol

find a way to write all the stories I want and not die of exhaustion in the process cries...writing gods please come visit me in 2023 🙏🏽

Favorite line I’ve written this year

This was so hard to choose! I think probably this line from my Fairy AU You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name because it feels like energy is transferring into my bones every time I read it, "You gripped it tighter, it was real, it was your freedom in the palm of your hand. It made you cry, made you angry, made you happy, made you stand up." But also there is a really good line in The Flower Bridge that came in close second...should I share it? Is that cheating? 😅 think readers should find it for themselves maybe? 😋

Tagging: @daydreamer-writing @justanotherstarlightmonger @trifoliumrex @jimilter @aris-ink @park-jimin-isnt-real @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue @bangtangalicious @smasmashie and whoever hasn't done it yet, 2022 is not yet over!

#tag game #just writer things

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sapphire-heart-tippy · 2 years

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Sapphire Heartverse! The fanfic

Part 1

Part 2: Living Adjustments

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

“Take a look at THIS.” Vanilla flashes the magazine in Dio’s face.

“A… furniture catalogue?” Dio gives Vanilla a very unimpressed face with a raised eyebrow.

“Wha-? No! My lord, LOOK. Look at the date!” Ice points frantically to the date printed on the catalog, “We are not in the 80s anymore, sire,” his voice cracks and wobbles, “We-he are… in… the future…”

Dio is still unamused and remains stoic on the outside. However, on the inside he is panicking as to why this sudden time shift has occurred. Dio takes the magazine and begins reading it nonchalantly,

“I’m more disappointed with the fact that you told me this anxiety of yours will not be an everyday occurrence.”

“But… but, my lord I-”

“Must be quiet while I am speaking.” Dio shushes his servant.

“Yes, Lord Dio.” Vanilla obeys.

“Hmph,” Dio flips through the pages, getting increasingly astonished with every image. Blast! Damn it all! I just now started learning about human culture back in the 80s and now I am forced to learn it all over again in 2022. God damn it. “You’re abnormally animated. This is not like you at all, Ice.” Dio tucks the magazine under his pillow.

“But, my lord, if you- I’m sorry.” Vanilla catches himself.

“No, no, go ahead and speak.” Dio tells him sarcastically.

“Well… what about the others? What do we tell the other servants? What do we tell the assassins? Do they already know?” Ice fidgets with his hands, brow furrowed with worry.

“So many questions. Here’s what I want you to do, Ice. Do the laundry, sweep the corridor, wash the dishes. There’s something to get your mind off this mess while you clean some.” Dio rubs his temples.

“Yes, sire. Very good, sire.” Vanilla Ice obeys his master.

While Vanilla is scrubbing up the dishes, Cream floats around gnawing on a piece of wood. The wood breaks and Cream devours it, then cries out for more. Vanilla huffs and throws another piece of wood at his stand, who catches it in his mouth. Cream gnaws and bites down on the wood block attempting to soothe himself.

“Hey, Nilla.” Terence walks in and leans against the doorframe, “Heard you going nutso on Lord Dio. What gives?”

“Do you really not know?” Vanilla makes a sour face at Terence while at the same time looking perturbed.

“About what?” Terence tilts his head at the brunette and narrows his eyes.

“Oh my god,” Vanilla slams down a dish on the counter in frustration, “Have you EVER gone outside in your life, Terence?”

“Jeez, I think that leotard of yours is riding up your ass, calm down.” Terence throws up his hands.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT YEAR IT IS?!” Vanilla clenches his soapy sopping wet fists.

“Uh… are you feeling okay, bud?” Terence looks Vanilla up and down and steps back.

“Fine. Figure it out for yourself. Now if you will excuse me, I have chores to do.” Vanilla walks back to the sink, skids a little from the water on the floor, and continues washing dishes with a sigh.

A few months pass…

April

“Still no sign of the Joestars… how could this be? I do not understand. I feel it… I feel something is amiss. But what else could it possibly be?” Dio looks at himself in his full length mirror, “Perhaps they no longer exist? Then what is this I am feeling?”

Tuk tuk tuk

“No need to kneel, Mr Ice, come on in.” Dio calls to his servant.

“Yes, sire.” Vanilla opens the door, cell phone in hand.

“Oh good, have you found one yet?”

“I have, sire,” Ice shows his master, “I have privately messaged him on the application.”

Dio squints and moves the phone closer to his face, then further away, then closer again. The blonde accidentally presses a button, showing the home screen,

“Ope, wait, I accidentally pressed something.”

“S-sire, wait!” Vanilla tries to get the phone away from him.

“Let’s see here, nope, that’s not it.” Dio continues to tap on the phone making Vanilla even more worried,

“My lord, please! Let me-”

“Wait, I think I got it. Now I-” Dio accidentally goes into Vanilla’s image folder. The blonde immediately stops talking and daintily puts his fingers up in surprise. His amber eyes are wide and his lips are pursed. Ice’s face is burning with embarrassment.

“You can keep pictures on these things?” Dio glances up into Vanilla’s pleading milk chocolate brown eyes.

“Y-yes, sire…” Vanilla’s lip quivers as he looks down at his master with shame.

“Hm.” Dio, “I did not know that.” Dio smugly hands the phone back to Vanilla, “And that confirms what I already knew about you, ahaahaa! Chin up, dear, be proud.” Vanilla gives an embarrassed but relieved chuckle as he goes back to the instant messaging,

“See, my lord?”

Dio looks over the person’s stand parameters and what their stand looks like.

“Hmmm, yes, quite. Alright, send him on over.” Dio then waves Vanilla away and looks at himself in the mirror again.

“Yes, sire. I’ll um, tell him he won the contest.” Vanilla looks at his phone. I should probably keep a passcode on this thing…

Two days later

Vanilla gets ready to pick up the “winner” of the contest from the airport. The brunette puts on some sunglasses and drives off. It’s a long ways away, and Vanilla rides along in unusual silence. Normally, Vanilla would be rapping along to whatever artist he was obsessed with, but right now he is under a bit of stress from all the changes going on in the world. As it turns out, and to nobody’s surprise, everyone has been affected by the universe shift.

Ice stands in a crowd of people holding up a sign, patiently waiting for his passenger to step off the plane. After an agonizingly long wait time, finally they peer out from the crowd. Vanilla watches them through his shades as they cautiously approach him.

“Uh, Vanilla Ice?” A young man looks up at him. Ice is quite surprised by how incredibly short this gentleman is. The brunette pulls up his shades to the top of his forehead,

“You must be Tippy.” Taking the sign under his arm, he gestures for the boy to follow him, “Come, follow me.”

On the way to the mansion, neither of them really speak to each other. Tippy is just in awe at being in a new place. He looks out the window, his deep brown eyes following each thing that passes by. Vanilla doesn’t mind the silence, he prefers it actually.

“Hey, umm…” Tippy turns to face Vanilla.

“Need something?” Vanilla glances over at him.

“So… what’s Mr Dio like, exactly? What should I do when I meet him?” The blue haired one asks.

“Address him as Lord Dio. Perhaps bow a little. Don’t speak to him unless spoken to. Just be very respectful and everything should go smoothly… However, do not be afraid of him. Lord Dio just holds a strong authority. Treat him with said authority and you will be alright.”

“Ah, gotcha.” Tippy bites his lip with nervousness

Once the two get to the mansion, goosebumps cover Tippy’s extremities.

“It’s freezing in here.” He shivers. Vanilla is carrying the short one’s bags,

“Lord Dio prefers it cold. We just recently installed electricity and even the 'wee-fee' if you'd like to use that. However, Lord Dio strongly prefers traditional means of living.”

This place is kind of creepy. Why is the floor so clean but the ceiling and walls are covered in spider webs? Tippy ponders. Ice opens the door to Tippy’s new room and it’s well lit. There’s a cozy bed against the wall with blue sheets, a nice desk in a corner with a little desk lamp, a big dresser and a small closet. It’s very quaint and peaceful compared to the other rooms in the mansion, besides Vanilla’s of course.

“Let’s set your things in here for now. Lord Dio is just dying to meet you.” Vanilla clasps his hands together. The very tall man gently guides Tippy down the hall and up the stairs. Ice knocks on Dio’s bedroom door a few times.

“Ice, bring him in.” Dio’s smooth, sultry voice rings in Tippy’s ears. Vanilla gently pushes Tippy into Dio’s bedroom.

I’m going to die… Tippy gulps.

To be continued…

#jojo's bizarre adventure #sapphire heartverse fanfic #sapphire heartverse #jjba fanfic #tipvans #jjba oc #self shipping #jjba self ship #jjba self insert #vanilla ice jojo #vanilla ice jjba #safeship

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taeghi · 1 year

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I posted 553 times in 2022

That's 373 more posts than 2021!

335 posts created (61%)

218 posts reblogged (39%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@taeghi

@tohokuu

@fallinforgyu

@seungkwan-s

@yeonjuins

I tagged 130 of my posts in 2022

#enhypen - 49 posts

#smut - 41 posts

#enhypen smut - 37 posts

#heeseung - 21 posts

#series - 21 posts

#the classics - 20 posts

#anon - 20 posts

#heeseung smut - 20 posts

#angst - 20 posts

#fluff - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 51 characters

#wtf i remember i hit 100 followers and almost cried

My Top Posts in 2022:

PLEASE i need some more older brother's best friend heeseung! your fic was TOO GOOD I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT and it's been WEEKS. PLEASE anything!

older brother's best friend lee heeseung x y/n!reader

add on from → this (the classics series)

SMUT, angst, fluff

living hours away from your boyfriend was difficult.

it was difficult to date him when he was living in your house, your older brother always being around the two of you, but now, you'd do anything to get that back. not being able to be beside him everyday left your soul feeling empty and your heart hurting.

and you're not some clingy girlfriend- i mean, you've seen lee heeseung almost everyday for the past five years- you've dreamt about dating, kissing, holding him everyday for the past five years.

and now that you're finally able to do that- you just can't.

your house had become a lot quieter now that you were the only teenager there. no more surprise visits from jake or jay. no more yelling at video games coming from sunghoon's bedroom. and no more laughter coming from everyone because of something heeseung had said.

the day all the boys left for college, you think you cried for hours. though you hadn't always had the best relationship with your older brother- it still felt awful that you weren't going to see him everyday anymore. you couldn't go into his bedroom and annoy him because you felt like it. you couldn't yell at him from across the house to turn down his music. you couldn't hug him when you had a bad day.

you cried because you'd never be able to see jake and jay bicker anymore. you'd never have them buy you a drink at the convenience store behind sunghoon's back. you'd never help them walk up the stairs because they were drunk and laughing too hard ever again.

you cried the most because of lee heeseung.

you think that you have cried because of this one boy one million times in your life and you wonder how many more times you'd cry about him in the future.

you had gone 10 months without seeing him once, but that was before you knew what it was like to be held by him, before you knew what his lips felt like against yours. before he had whispered "you're mine forever, right?" in your ear the night before they had to leave, your face buried into his chest.

because you are lee heeseung's forever- and you're his.

that's why it was so painful knowing that when you walked into school everyday- he wasn't there. when you walked into your house- he wasn't there.

it was like there almost nothing left of him around you, besides the aching in your heart.

you slept in his bed (technically the 'guest's' bed) for a week after he left until the smell of his cologne wore off of the pillows and was replaced only by your own shampoo.

sunoo tried to comfort you. he'd come over almost everyday at first, laying with you as you cried. he'd put on a movie, and it would help ease the new silence that has been formed inside the house. even sunoo missed the boys at that point.

sure, sunoo wasn't as close to them as you were, but he missed them smiling at him as they walked past each other in the halls. he missed them asking him if he wanted a drive to your house after school. he missed them giving him a slice of pizza even though he said he didn't want one.

it hurt watching them drive off, you, your parents and sunoo all waving until their cars were out of sight- but it hurt sunoo more seeing you cry everyday.

heeseung and you promised to text and call each other when ever you both had the chance to. but it was difficult.

heeseung was in his second year of college, and you were in your last year of high school. college classes had definitely picked up more for him, and you had your head stuffed into your textbook, your hands sore from writing so much.

the distance was not just only hurting you, but heeseung as well.

he tried not to cry as he drove himself, sunghoon and jake to seoul. he had just proved to sunghoon that he was a good boyfriend for his little sister, he didn't want to mess it up by crying in front of him and possibly almost crashing the car.

his drive to college this year was a lot different than the year before.

the year before, he cried silently as he drove because he was leaving behind his childhood. he was leaving behind his family's house he never stayed at, his best friends, his high school that changed his life, and the girl of his dreams.

this year, he had two of his three best friends in the car with him, all driving to their shared apartment where they'd live together. he had gotten over the fact that his childhood had ended. he had gotten over the fact that he'd never have a good relationship with his family- but he had a new family of his own; the parks.

he was leaving behind the girl of his dreams- only this time, you were actually his.

you were his, and he leaving you.

See the full post

1,617 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

bets are meant to be won - masterlist

— summary : jake, jay and sunghoon have been friends for so long that they have everything in common- they even like the same girl! they aren't sure who initially started the bet on which one of them could get you to fall for them first- but they do know that they will stop at nothing to make sure one of them wins. how will you manage to pick just one of them?

— updated : december 6th 2022

message/comment to be put on the taglist! <3

0. PROLOGUE release date : friday august 12, 2022 @ 10pm EST

See the full post

2,007 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

park sunghoon : the boy next door trope

"are you okay, y/n?" "yep, 'm just fine." "don't lie, i know you're finding it hard to not picture me shirtless."

pairing : shy, figure skater!sunghoon x popular extravert!reader

summary : park sunghoon, the quiet figure skater from school has moved into the house right next door to your own. you never really paid attention to how cute he was until he starts walking around his room shirtless, knowing that your windows were adjacent to one another.

word count: 26,500 (hehe)

includes smut - minors DNI

this is pure fiction, characters included are all the same age (18).

read the other volumes?

🤎

taglist : @srirachibi @ryu-naa @blank-velvet @hoonstrology@person-standing @yuakagi @moasworld@rein-deer-stuffs @lix-freckle3 @leeis @turnipsandflowerss @hoewithnojams@liliansun @melaninjhs @sunshine-skz @andromedawillburryyou@shynypeacekitten @violevantae @rpkth @hime98 @fvryang @j4yluvr @heelariously @fireflies997 @rikipediaa @manaswisingh @pshwyfie @rikithebest@as-she-pleases @hoon3luv @valhoez @tlnyjoong @duolingofanaccount @misavenue @en-boyz @rikithebest (sorry if i forgot anyone lololol)

authors tmi : i listened to sunsetz by cigarettes after sex repeatedly while writing this

park sunghoon was stubborn and cocky, but oh so hot.

still to this day, you aren't sure if you regret meeting him or not- you aren't even sure how you managed to get wrapped up around him- but you curse the house next door.

if it weren't for it- park sunghoon and you would've continued on your separate paths in life- with no need to intertwine them.

the first time you had seen park sunghoon was during the beginning of year 9. he tall and slim and dorky. he was quiet, shy and he sat in the back of the class. he always seemed too aware of himself, obessing over the way his hair looked, and if his clothes were out of place.

needless to say, you didn't pay much attention to him during your first year of high school.

you had been swept up into the popular crowd early into your high school career. you weren't on any of the sports teams at your school nor were you neccessarily considered the prettiest girl in school, but you were nice and you loved to party.

you personally think that you started to grow into your features during your second year of high school. you became more confident with not only your personality, but your looks and appearance as well. that was also around the time that boys started to really look at you. you started to play around with a few guys at your school- building up your confidence even more.

year 10 of high school also brought on the insane increase of popularity to park sunghoon.

over the summer from year 9 to year 10, sunghoon had grown even taller. his dorky features had transitioned into a sharp, more defined structure. he started hanging out with the popular jocks at your school, seemingly to fit right in with them.

park sunghoon had become hot- and anyone who didn't agree was deemed as blind.

though, he was still just as shy as he was during your first year of high school. his shoulders had broadened but his choice of friends had not.

"who the hell is that?" chaehyun asked from beside, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder as she stared down into the hallway.

dayeon and you turned your heads to where she was looking- park sunghoon stood against the lockers, smiling as he listened to his friends joke around and shove each other.

"that's park sunghoon!" dayeon nudged chaehyun with a shake of her head, "we had math with him last year!"

"that's park sunghoon?" chaehyun's jaw dropped as she looked between you and the newly-attractive-boy down the hall. "what the hell happened to him?"

"figure skating's really paid off for him." dayeon shrugged leaning back against her own locker.

you hadn't been able to take your eyes off of him. his pale skin contrasted so prettily against the ugly blue of the lockers behind him. he seemed to never speak a word while he was surrounded with his friends, only a lazy smile or laugh would escape him.

"god, do you know how many girls are gonna want him this year?" chaehyun scoffed, leaning her head on dayeon's shoulder, "a lot compared to last year."

See the full post

2,955 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

lee heeseung - the brother's best friend trope

"what if he comes home early?" "then we're fucked, but at least we'll be fucked together."

summary : keeping your crush on heeseung a secret from heeseung was hard, but keeping it a secret from sunghoon was even harder. what do you do when you accidentally fall in love with your older brothers best friend?

you sneak around behind his back of course.

word count : 29,000 (how did i do that lol)

includes : severe angst, fluff and smut

read the other volumes?

PART 2 HERE

🤎

being park sunghoon's little sister was difficult.

it was difficult already to have an older brother that annoys you every five seconds, but it was even more difficult because he just had to have hot friends.

hot friends that sunghoon made sure knew that you were completely off-limits.

when sunghoon entered high school, he was immediately somehow made popular and quickly made a small friend group with the other popular boys in his grade; jay park and jake shim. another boy, who was a year older than sunghoon also hung out with them quite frequently; lee heeseung.

though you were only a year younger than sunghoon, he treated you like you were five years old. your friends thought that it was sweet that sunghoon was so protective of you- but you thought the complete opposite about it. since he treated you like a baby- that meant his friends treated you like a baby.

sunghoon's friends knew that if he ever caught them even glancing at you for more than a mere second, they would get reprimanded by sunghoon in an instant. sometimes they even thought that sunghoon was a little too protective of you, but then again sunghoon knows how his friends think and how they treat girls. he doesn't want you to get heartbroken like the thousand other girls they have played.

the first time you ever saw lee heeseung was when you were just starting year 8 at your school. sunghoon had brought home heeseung one day after school so they could play some video games together. heeseung was in year 10 at the time, and he was just starting to grow into his features. that didn't stop you from almost physically drooling over him when he first stepped foot into your kitchen.

you remember your mother introducing herself to heeseung, smiling at him and welcoming them into your home, but what she said exactly is all a blur because you were so in shock about how and why this hot guy was friends with your brother.

"that's y/n, but you don't have to talk to her she's pretty annoying." sunghoon's voice got you out of your drooling session. sunghoon pointed his thumb over his shoulder at you before going into the fridge to get him and heeseung a drink before they head up to his room.

"hi, y/n." heeseung said softly with a smile as he stood at the table beside you, waiting for your brother.

"hi." you forced yourself to say, surprising yourself when it came out in a normal tone.

"okay, my room's this way, i'll show you my games and we can play whatever one you want." sunghoon shrugged, leading heeseung up the stairs. "oh and y/n," sunghoon stopped and called to you from the middle of the staircase, making heeseung turn back around to look at you, "don't bug us, seriously, i mean it."

"wha- i won't!" your jaw dropped out of embarrassment and ridicule, "why would i wanna go into your musty room anyways." you rolled your eyes, turning your body away so they wouldn't see the flash of pink on your cheeks from the humiliation.

"shut up, it is not musty." sunghoon grumbled, turning again to head upstairs, you heard a soft chuckle from heeseung as he also turned around and followed your brother up the stairs.

after that day, you saw heeseung at your house a couple of times per month, along with jay and jake. they quickly turned into regular guests at your house, walking into your residence without even knocking by the end of the school year. your parents had started acting like they had just randomly gained three extra sons.

at first, whenever you were around jay or jake, you could sense that they were a bit reluctant to talk to you. you figured that it was just because you were younger than them. there would be times when jay and you would be cracking jokes in the living room whilst he waited for your brother to finish getting ready, and as soon as he heard sunghoon come down the stairs, jay would back away from you and act as if he didn't know anything about you.

jake didn't really care if sunghoon saw him smile at you, or even just acknowledge your presence. though, you could tell sunghoon got a bit annoyed when he saw jake interacting with you. still, jake would never be caught dead being alone in a room with you, just in case, sunghoon decided to end their friendship then and there because of it.

heeseung, on the other hand, the one that was the most introverted out of all of them, did not care about sunghoon's stupid over-protectiveness of you. heeseung always made sure to say hi to you, to open the door for you when you all started walking to high school together. he didn't care about what sunghoon said or thought because heeseung knew how much sunghoon trusted and adored him. sure, it was annoying seeing his best friend talking to his little sister, but not as annoying as seeing jay or jake talk to her.

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5,122 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

☆ the hates everyone except you trope | park jay

"hey! focus on the assignment!" "well stop being so fucking pretty and i might be able to!"

pairing : badboy!jay x good girl! reader

summary : being the smartest one in your whole year had its perks, but it meaning that you would have to tutor the students that were behind in class was definitely the ultimate con- except for it allowing you to get to know the school’s bad boy in a way no one else has before.

word count : 27,994

includes smut, angst, fluff.

use of drugs and alchohol.

minors DNI

☆read the other volumes?

taglist : @srirachibi @ryu-naa @blank-velvet @hoonstrology @person-standing @yuakagi @moasworld @rein-deer-stuffs @ily-cuz-i @lix-freckle3 @leeis @turnipsandflowerss @hoewithnojams @liliansun @melaninjhs @sunshine-skz @andromedawillburryyou @shynypeacekitten @violevantae @rpkth @hime98 @fvryang @j4yluvr @heelariously @fireflies997 @rikipediaa @yuakagi @person-standing @blank-velvet @ryu-naa @srirachibi (sorry if i forgot anyone lol)

growing up in a small town and then moving to the capital city for your first year of high school is and never will be easy.

your entire family had been born and grew up in your small hometown themselves. it was a town where everyone knew everyone. you had grown to become comfortable in your small town. there wasn't much going on, it was basically silent.

and you loved the silence.

though, you dreamed of moving far away from your small, quiet town once you graduated high school- and you never wanted to return.

you didn't want to be like everyone else in the world, it was one of your biggest fears. you couldn't bear the thought of being like someone else, which was hard since everyone in your town thought the same, dressed the same, talked the same and so on.

besides your fear of being like everyone else, you had a fear of burning out in life.

you had always been intelligent.

you got grades that were so high that colleges had been looking into accepting you even before you had graduated. your teachers were always impressed with you, even giving you assignments that were extremely advanced for someone your age to complete.

your obvious intelligence had made your parents extremely hard on you. always pushing you to study and to get your assignments done on time so that you could go far in life. your parents didn't have the luck of being as smart as you, so when they found out that somehow the two of them had made a genius child- their minds went haywire.

your parents didn't want you to end up like them when you were older. so, they gave you strict rules, a strict curfew, and a strict schedule that you had to follow.

on some days, you didn't mind your routine. you found comfort in it.

but other days, you wanted to pull your hair out as you heard kids your age laughing down the street on a nice spring day- probably making amazing childhood memories that they could tell their kids about one day. you on the other hand had no memories that you could share.

what would you even tell your kids? oh, i sat inside for years with my head in a textbook and stress circulating my entire being so that i could please my parents and make a name for myself in this life.

yeah, really fun.

since your parents really wanted you to live a life that they didn't and would never have, they decided to move to the capital city - seoul - for your first year of high school.

you were excited but so scared at the same time. you got to get away from the small town you had always lived in where you knew everyone and everything. to a place where you knew no one and nothing.

to say that your first year of high school was awful would be an understatement.

your first year of high school was horrendous.

it was like you were invisible to everyone- except to yoon seeun.

"hi!" the girl sat down across the cafeteria table from you.

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5,471 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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