starrysvn

[starrysvn]

HDKFHDKGKDHSKAHDKASDKSHSKHS NO I GET IT THO I WAS DOWNRIGHT MAKING MYSELF GIGGLE WRITING THISCBCJDH ilysm!!! thank u for reading <3

puppy love | kang yeosang

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader

genre: headcanon; e2l (i TRIED); co-workers au, volunteering at an animal shelter; fluff; angst if you really, really squint, crack (i’m nOT funny)

word count: 3.1k

rating: pg-13

warnings: none; one smooch, mayhaps a couple swear words (lowercase intended)

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happy belated christmas from your secret santa, @armysantiny !! i really hope you’ll enjoy this and i sincerely hoped you spent warm holidays surrounded by people you loved! <3 i’ve tried my very best with the e2l but mAN writing it is so much less fun than reading it. big, huge, thanks to @hwaightme for giving me wonderful ideas to use and delulus to ponder so i could write this down. ilysm <333

kang yeosang is one infuriating individual. for one, there is no way anyone can be so praised and well-liked by literally everyone. not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how his small smiles and quiet attitude could bewitch every last person he talked to. not when he would not bother to say hi in passing to you specifically, or resolve to small nods and monosyllables when talking. to you.

it seems that you are the problem.

you and him work volunteer shifts at the same shelter. only, he deals with cats while you deal with dogs so it wasn’t like you’d see each other that often, but it was often enough to know he doesn’t like you.

not enough to say hi, engage in any sort of coversation or, least of all, help out if needed.

until christmas.

the shelter was decked out, you spent a whole afternoon helping out with decorations, along with yunho and yena, two other volunteers.

and yeosang.

the man almost laughed his ass off watching you balance on a ladder in the most uncoordinated way possible to avoid falling. arms flailing around and everything.

he just stood there, an ornament in his hands, with his stupidly cute smile and watched.

you sigh, scratching behind the ear of the latest rescue dog that was brought in. you like baxter, he is chill and his black, shiny fur does not show signs of him having had to live out in the streets all on his own for weeks anymore. you like him best because it looks like he is listening when you ramble on, in disbelief of the rudeness showcased, about yeosang.

just then, a call of your name sounds in the air, the voice coming from the front desk of the shelter.

“see you later,” you leave behind baxter’s toy, leaving him with one last pat on the head, and make your way to the front where hongjoong had called for you.

you smile upon entering the reception area as it had been a joint decorating effort between you, yunho and yena. the result was looking very much like an elementary school christmas project, but you enjoy the general vibe. the senior rescuer currently behind the counter, looking rather preoccupied with a few papers, however, had just shook his head dejectedly upon seeing the final result.

“i’m sorry to be doing this, but could you take the christmas day shift?” he looks apologetic as he asks, rushing to explain. “it’d only be a half day, I promise that by one you can leave, we’ve got the staff taking care of the other shifts and the morning one’s the only one left uncovered-”

“no worries,” you interrupt his rambling. “i’ll be there.”

hongjoong smiles, looking relieved only for a second, before his face betrays further worrying.

“what is it?”

“nothing, i,” he sighs, shoulders sagging upon seeing the inquisitive look on your face. “yeosang will be working the same shift.”

defeat. dejection. betrayed trust. you groan dramatically, barely hearing hongjoong say that you’d already agreed and it would not be that bad.

surely it’d make for an interesting christmas.

when you arrive on christmas morning, the night shift staff gives you a tired nod and you offer him a smile in return, quickly wishing him happy holidays.

you waste no time in doing the rounds, giving all the cute doggos their breakfast.

while going over the duty checklist left from the night shift staff you hear the bell jingle in the front and roll your eyes.

when you finally decide to go up front it takes a couple of minutes before yeosang finally comes into view.

decked out in his funniest ugly sweater it reads “here comes santa paws” and has a cat wearing a christmas hat on it and with his long hair tucked behind his ears, he’s coming up to you with an awkward air about him.

you squint your eyes in suspicion.

“merry christmas,”

you’re floored, shocked, gaping like a fish looking up at your co-worker who for the first time ever has spoken to you first.

“cookie?” he produces a tupperware from behind his back, carefully removing the lid to reveal the most crooked, ill-decorated christmas cookies you’ve ever seen. some look slightly burned. a gingerbread man has three eyes.

you’re still gaping, not in the slightest understanding how it's possible that he’s spoken to you first, and also not noticing how ever so slowly a blush starts to creep up on his cheeks.

maybe you’re hallucinating, but it snaps you out of your trance.

you quickly reach for the gingerbread man with three eyes.

“thanks,” you mumble, giving him a small smile. “merry christmas.”

yeosang nods, closing the tupperware and disappearing without a word.

so you’re left there, cookie in hand, not knowing what to do with this.

you stay put, eating your cookie, until you hear a loud bang.

you rush to the source of it, finding a very flustered yeosang surrounded by cat litter. at least it’s clean.

you hold in your laughter, seeing him stand there, look around and try to come up with a plan.

“a little help?” you pretend to wipe away tears, facing his deadpan expression.

“you would’ve let me fall from a ladder,”

“you would’ve survived,”

you scoff, turning around to grab the broom and toss it his way. Yeosang catches it, just barely.

“really?”

“you scared my dogs.”

with that, you leave him to his mess, going to comfort and play a little bit with the shaken up puppies.

it’s not until a little later that you show up at the front desk again, noticing yeosang is already sitting there, typing away on the computer.

he’s also got the phone pressed to his ear, helping out someone on the line with cat duties, speaking with his honey voice and a small smile on his face.

it’s almost mesmerizing seeing him wear an expression that’s not his usual blank stare he holds up around you.

“if you’re done staring, we’ve got hongjoong’s checklist to go through,”

just like that, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, heat pervading your face.

“sure,” you shrug, going over to him to take a look at it, trying not to stare at his smug pout.

deep down, very deep down, you think about kissing it away.

if he weren’t so unbearable. but he is. so.

the checklist read “lobby Ikea chairs”

you both looked at each other, confused, until you noticed the boxes hidden behind the counter.

there was a post-it on it that read: “good luck! -HJ”

simply infuriating. you’d lost count of all the times you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes or drop everything and go back to your dogs.

there was no trace of the cold, odd yeosang you were used to.

he’d casually sat down on the spot where you were assembling the Ikea chairs, picked up the instruction manual and waited for you to hand him the screwdriver. bewildered, you had.

that was about two hours ago, before trying to follow instructions had gone to your heads, when it was only extremely awkward and quiet while he read the manual and you tried your best to sneak glances at him. to figure out what possibly could have been going through his head, of course.

now you were busy trying to one up each other in an undeclared war of who is the best handyman, clearly having lost the main aim: building the damned chairs.

“you were supposed to put in the screw first and then the little wooden thingy.”

“does it matter?”

“does your chair look structurally sound?”

“listen, if we start over-” pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes closed with a sigh, you stop him before he could finish his sentence.

“like hell we are, it took us two hours just to get to this.”

“exactly,” his deadpan tone leaves you no choice but to sigh.

“fine,” you give in.

you were going to kill hongjoong.

because it took you only two hours to realize all it took for yeosang to distract you were his hands working on assembling furniture, his voice asking you to pass him stuff and his silence.

if you hated it before, now you appreciated the quiet moments where all you could hear was the faint music coming from the radio and the occasional bark or meow that prompted one of you to stand up and go check on your animals.

of course it was because you didn’t have to hear his disdainful reprimanding, not at all because it gave you the chance to throw glances at him and how a few strands of hair escaped the clips pinning it back and framing his face very nicely. no, not at all. you still couldn’t stand him. mhmh.

once you finally finish building the chairs, he helps you set them up in exchange for the older ones, now piled up in the storage room.

it’s almost second nature for you to hold up your fist for him to bump.

it’s just a thing you do all the time with your friends but now you’re standing there awkwardly, fist mid air, yeosang staring at you very lost, eyes going back and forth from your face to your hand and of course now he’s not going to want to see your face ever again and you feel embarrassment slowly and steadily creeping in the more you stand there until

he fist-bumps back

a little puzzled, seemingly asking if he’s done the right thing with one look, before dropping his hand and clearing his voice

you do the same

“gotta go see the dogs,”

“yeah, no, me too… i mean, the cats, yeah, so-”

he turns around and speeds away.

you follow him.

“so how’re the cats?”

yeosang jumps on his spot, almost dropping the little mouse toy he was about to throw for a kitty to catch.

“sleeping, mostly,” he shrugs. “how’re the dogs?”

you motion for him to follow and, surprisingly, he does.

immediately, he greets the ones that are up or go up to him with a smile on his face that you’ve never seen.

it shines brighter than the sun and you find yourself smiling as well, seeing him crouch down and pat dogs left and right.

then you get a grip, not for long

it leaves you pleasantly surprised how he follows while you introduce him to every dog, how he listens while you explain why they’re there, their stories, their backgrounds

but then, while you try to get some of the dogs to play with you so he could finish the round of greetings, he reaches the puppies’ enclosure and enters it to sit among them

and while he tries to play catch with a couple, one makes his way into his arms

and when he looks down at the pup, he’s wearing the most adoring expression

like a kid seeing snow for the first time

it’s wondrous and starry and happy

and you’re staring as he softly pats the puppy’s head and coos at it

“what’s his name?”

you almost don’t answer, too focused on the scene unfolding and having trouble locating the information he’s asked for in your brain

“i don’t think he has one,” you mumble, patting baxter’s head

“sleepy,” he looks down at the puppy. “cause he’s asleep while everyone wants to play, you know?”

you just nod with a smile, or at least you hope it is because what the fuck

why are you losing your mind over yeosang cradling a sleeping puppy?

why is your brain recognizing just now that your stomach’s doing cartwheels? why do you want to look away but also keep staring?

“what’s this?” you think he’s speaking to himself, but you still catch the words leaving his mouth as he enquires the toy another puppy has just brought him

then yeosang looks up at you, eyes wide as saucers, and your heart drops for being caught staring

he doesn’t say a thing, but looks down prompting you to do the same

it’s the mistletoe chew toy

yunho’s brilliant idea of getting the dogs christmas themed toys

yeosang looks away throwing it

“yunho,” you start, catching your coworker’s attention. “yunho’s idea, to get them those.”

you offer him a pained smile as he nods, scratching his head.

“seonghwa too, for the cats…”

“ah, really?”

“yeah…”

you want to bash your head into the wall

but the phone saves you, so you dash to the front, escaping the burning flames of awkwardness

it turns out to be a family wanting to adopt as a christmas present for their kids

so you say that yes, you’re open and yes they can come in whenever

when they do, yeosang has re-emerged and stands beside you, silent like always

this time around, though, you fear he’ll hear your heart beating out of your chest at the proximity

why’s he so close?

you almost jump to greet the happy family of four when they walk in to the sound of let it snow coming from the radio

“we were afraid it wasn’t going to stop!” the dad says, brushing off some snow from his hat

turns out they’d like to adopt a dog

it surprises you that yeosang follows when you lead the family in but you try to pay him no mind

the kids seem to be enamored with every dog they see, their parents giving them free reign

they’re still very polite and don’t cause much ruckus or yell too loud, which you’re grateful for

“could you tell us more about him?”

you’re about to turn to answer the question, if it weren’t that yeosang’s already at it

he’s introducing the kids to baxter

“he’s been here for a while, he’s very fond of our y/n and his favorite snack is carrots. he doesn’t like loud noises all that much. his past owners left him here because they could no longer take care of him, but he’s looking to find a new home,” he speaks as if he’s always been taking care of him, like he hadn’t just learned all that stuff half an hour ago

and he has his smile on, the one who could charm and warm up even the coldest of hearts

except one detail

you didn’t notice the little girl facing the puppies enclosure

until you hear her go “that one’s sleeping!”

but you can’t tear your eyes away from yeosang and his can’t help but hear his soft giggle as he says “his name’s sleepy”

yeah you want to punch a wall just about now

though you have to snap out of it quick

because you’re now letting this nice family adopt baxter and can’t fuck up the procedure or hongjoong will have your head

“how’d you know?” you ask, a little melancholic but over the moon to finally see your baxter go to a family worthy of him, as you both watch the car pull out of the parking lot.

“know what?” when yeosang turns to look at you, it’s with a shadow of a smile and curious eyes, an expression you’ve rarely ever seen directed your way

you swallow hard before speaking next

“that baxter’s fond of me”

his eyes light up in recognition

yeosang swore no soul shall ever know of this

but now he feels his resolution coming apart under your waiting eyes

because truth is, he’s noticed

he notices everything about you

from how you walk in dragging your feet when you have an early morning shift, relying on your cup of coffee, to how you laugh loudly at yunho’s jokes, always get your favorite snack from the vending machines at just about the same time he goes to get his melon pan he does wait for you to be done before going up to the machines himself

and how deeply you care for the dogs and how you seem to have a soft spot for baxter

maybe he’s even heard you once or twice rambling on and on to him about how you don’t get why he doesn’t like you

truth is, he sees you, and he likes you

so much

too much

he’s afraid of doing the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and make you hate him

but apparently his plan had backfired immensely

that’s why he insisted hongjoong gave him and not seonghwa the christmas shift

he even baked stupid cookies to give you

“ah, well…” yeosang has no idea how to get out of this one. “you just seemed to like him a lot from the way you spoke about him”

you hum, not really convinced

yeosang notices though, just as he notices the car of the afternoon staff pull in under the snowfall to free you of your volunteering duties

it’s not long before the shift’s over and he’s not going to see you until after the holidays

so, as you part ways to say goodbye to the pets and grab your coats, he musters up some courage

under the snowfall, he calls your name

when you turn around his dark hair is lightly dusted with snowflakes, only making him look more ethereal, and his eyes are determined

you don’t know what’s up with you today and why suddenly he’s making you feel like a teenager dealing with their first crush under his gaze

“yes?”

he comes closer, much more than he’s ever been, so close that you’re frozen on the spot

“just wanted to let you know that you can redeem your mistletoe kiss whenever you want to”

there’s a smugness in his voice, in his pouty smirk and a sense of accomplishment shining clear in his honey eyes

have they always been this mesmerizing?

his words and his warmth leave you breathless for just a beat too long, until your eyes fall on his lips

when you look back into his eyes, his are already looking at you, waiting

“alright,” you mutter lowly, pecking his lips once, testing the waters

he places another peck on your lips and, before you know, you’re kissing him

it feels exhilarating, and soft, so soft, just like his lips. just like the hand that’s come up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer, deepening the kiss.

when you come up for air you giggle, yeosang following suit

“may i also interest you in a coffee?” he asks, hand still on your cheek, gently brushing away snowflakes before they melt. you smile.

“i thought you hated me,” it almost sounds like a question and your brow furrows when he clicks his tongue.

“have you ever heard about the concept of quiet, introverted people who feel highly intimidated by awesome, funny, pretty people?”

you laugh, finally presented with the answer to the question that most replayed in your head

“take me on a date, hilarious, quiet, handsome guy”

he blushes and you know he’ll blame it on the cold, but only brushes his nose against yours

and to think you thought he couldn’t stand you mere hours ago

now he’s here, making your heart melt like snow upon touching his perfect skin

#ur so sweet i will sob😭 #big hugs!! #ateez #yeosang #ateez yeosang #yeosang fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios

[starrysvn]

and what if i got emotional? what if i smiled very big at my phone? thank you for your wonderful words, and finding such warm feelings in my writing. it means the world to me <3 love u too!

strangers in the night | jyh

pairing: jeong yunho x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, non idol au

synopsis: you never thought love would be just a glance away.

warnings: mentions of drinking, alcohol, none, fluff.

word count: 888 words

author’s note: i honestly kinda hate this. also very much inspired by the 15 minutes i spent at primrose hill in london before it started pouring. enjoy while i try to finish my seonghwa monster of a fic <3

playlist: strangers in the night - frank sinatra

masterlist | navi

The night was quiet, peaceful even, as you let your gaze wander lovingly over your friends. From your spot on the blanket, illuminated by far-off lampposts and the city lights below you only, the view was breathtaking. People were dancing and talking and singing all around the hill overlooking the crowded city, feeling the same freedom they felt walking through the hoards of people in the streets, granted by the anonymity of a fast life slipping by in the sea of tiny, little humans. Nobody cared, nobody looked at you twice.

You giggled lightly, shivering slightly thanks to the chilly gust of wind passing you by. Not caring that a few of your friends left you behind in favor of dancing with strangers to the music offered by your speakers, you took another sip of beer, content with the silent company of your sleepy friend and of the light-hearted noise around you.

That’s when he came in. Little did you know, he was about to change your life forever.

That’s when he came in. Little did you know, he was about to change your life forever.

He walked over to your blanket deliberately slow, making you anticipate his words. Him and his group of friends had been sitting a few meters away, throughout the night your friends had pointed over to them a couple of times. Turns out one of them knew one of you, hence why a new, joint group of groups had formed.

“I see you’re on drunk-sitting duty as well” he plopped down next to you, his own beer bottle in hand, and pointed to your semi-passed out friend laying near you. “I just finished my shift, thankfully” he pointed over to their spot, where you saw two people dealing with the same conundrum.

Your laugh was airy but genuine.

“I’m Yunho” he introduced himself, smiling when you did too.

Talking to him was easy, he was funny and easygoing and perhaps you’d had one too many, but you felt yourself blushing every time you caught him looking at you a second too long. It was almost downright embarrassing how you had to keep yourself from behaving like a high schooler talking to their crush.

It was only when two of your friends rejoined your blanket that Yunho asked if you wanted to dance.

“What?” your eyes went wide, suddenly caught off by the question. He laughed softly before ditching his empty beer bottle and standing up. He offered you a hand with a slightly amused smile. “Would you like to dance?” he asked again, earning you a nudge in the side from your friend. So much for not behaving like a high schooler. “Sure” after a beat, you took his hand in yours. It was warm and soft, and Yunho dragged you a few feet away. It was quieter there, but you could still hear the music.

Strangers in the night, two lonely people We were strangers in the night Up to the moment when we said our first hello Little did we know Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away

Giggling softly upon hearing one of your favorites, you let him guide you in slow steps. This all felt so surreal to you, you only hoped he couldn’t hear the way your heart was racing, entirely unaware that Yunho was hoping just the same.

“You’re pretty good at this” you commented, sincerely surprised at how well he was dancing. Yunho held you a little closer, hands on your waist, and you held your breath for a second. He was even more handsome up close. “You too” he smiled, twirling you around.

You fell back in his arms a little less gracefully than you would’ve liked, an embarrassed laugh escaping you, but Yunho didn’t care or was kind enough not to say anything.

"Do you go around offering strangers to dance much?" you teased, earning an amused scoff. "Only to funny and pretty ones" he winked, sending your heart reeling once again, but you rolled your eyes. "You gotta think of new compliments, Mr. Romantic" Yunho just laughed, and you followed suit. "Will do"

It was comfortably silent as you two danced, like you’d known him for forever and words weren’t necessary to voice what your eyes were saying. And so, you twirled and twirled, swaying long after the music had faded into silence. His body close to yours offered the warmth you were missing, and the sweet nothings or cheesy jokes he sometimes would murmur in your ear kept you warm inside.

Finally, you were broken apart by your friends begging you to end the night, similarly to what his were requesting. Reluctantly, Yunho let you go, and you instantly missed his presence.

“Save me one dance?” he smiled, holding your hand still. “Next time, Yunho” and he swore he was already addicted to the way his name fell from your lips. “Alright, Y/N” he dared to stamp a feather-like kiss on your cheek, sending sparks flying, before running off to his hollering friends.

Yunho turned around to wave at you one last time, and you waved back with a dumb, toothy smile on your lips. The two of you walked off with hearts full of hope and promise in your eyes that you’d see each other soon.

#im very emo #this was so sweet of you to say i- #im 😭😭😭😭😭 #like legit speechless tHANK U <33 #jeong yunho fluff #jeong yunho #jeong yunho ateez #ateez jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho x y/n #jeong yunho x you #ateez fluff #ateez #ateez fanfic

[starrysvn]

no! u r! <3

Oh. My. God.

The way I'm in literal tears after reading Angel, holy shit that was one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. I think I'm gonna binge read all of your works now

Please please please write more soulmate aus, I think I'm in love

- @the-kpop-simp

AAAAAAAAA😭😭 thank you so so so much, it truly means the world that you liked it and oMG SORRY FOR THE TEARS😭 no worries, i love soulmate aus they’re my roman empire, i’ll likely pop out more in the future🫡 thank you again for reading, i hope you’ll like my other stuff🥹 have the loveliest day!💝💘💖

[starrysvn]

ngl i let out a fat GIGGLE i’m so sorryYYRJFHSKFJDJDB but i’m really happy you liked them, they’re some of my favs of my own so it means a lot! thank you sm🥹💝💘🫶🏻💖💐

(46) ATEEZ FIC RECS

🍓 fluff | 🌀 angst | 💥 nsfw | 🎧 personal favourite

if any links don’t work or the wrong writers have been tagged please let me know!

ATEEZ/MULTIPLE

Want You Back | @whimsicalwritingsandmore 🍓🌀

opposites attract w/ matz | @beenbaanbuun 🍓💥🎧

↳ are you ready to get so hooked on something you’ll read every story connected to it and simply sit there waiting for series updates?

Addams!ATEEZ | @fruithoughts 🍓💥

HONGJOONG

Less Than Three | @kbandtrash 🍓

Runaway | @lilacmingi 🍓🌀

To Make An Album | @bambikisss 🍓💥

Never Alone | @iwannasuckyourmonstercock 🌀

Hopefully | @idyllic-ghost 🍓

↳ my hongjoong roman empire and it’s just made up leave me alone

SEONGHWA

The Way to His Heart | @edenesth 🍓🌀🎧

↳ again not a series reader in the slightest but this one is so well done you never know what’s happening next and then you get grown through a loop in the best way possible

let’s not fall in love, again | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ HOW THE AUTHOR CAME UP WITH THIS IS BEYOND ME BUT I REREAD THIS ALL THE TIME I LOVE IT I CANT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT

no title | @mymoodwriting 🍓🌀💥

bodyguard | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥

↳ this became my personality for a solid month after its release

cat named mars | @hwaightme 🍓

checkmate | @atinystraynstay 🍓🌀

the lamb and the wolf | @seonghwaddict 🍓💥

YUNHO

Guerilla | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀💥

opposites attract | @tainsan 🍓🌀💥

↳ another one that became my personality for a solid month after release

what builds a home | @cosmicdumpling 🍓💥 (only a little!)

PILLAGED | @lilacmingi 🍓 (a little 🌀)

something to give each other | @sungbeam 🍓🎧

↳ read this at 5:34am and it changed my life i’m not kidding

Promise | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓💥 (only a little!)

↳ did my life just change? yes! this authors fics always change my life but this was something else!

entombed | @ghstzzn 💥 (and kinda 🍓) 🎧

YEOSANG

no title | @ateezmakemeweep 🍓🌀

RETURN TO ME | @thewonandonly 🌀💥🎧

↳ this is the the best yeosang fic on this app like i can’t explain any of it like this is one i strongly suggest you read (this is a threat, read the goddamn fic) and that fucking ending i’m literally i can’t it takes everything in me to not spoil it every time i recommend it but i’m telling you you have to read this you know that feeling you get when your heart wrenches and you physically feel it? you get that the whole time with this

for the hope of it all | @starrysvn 🌀🎧

↳ not gonna lie thought about killing myself after reading this 😭😭😭 /j

SAN

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder | @ennysbookstore 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ another one i can’t explain you have to read this for yourself because you think you know and then no you fucking don’t and then you get really mad and then really sad and then you’re like oh no and then y/n saves it and then san says stuff JUST READ IT

Ceilings [PART 2] | @yoongiseesawmp3 🍓🌀💥

↳ FINALLY THIS GODDAMN TROPE DONE RIGHT LIKE GAG EM THANK YOU GUYS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD READ AND IT DOESNT MOVE FAST LIKE THE OTHER FICS THAT DO THIS TROPE PLEASE

seasons out of time | @nonclassyparty 🍓🌀💥🎧🎧🎧

↳ this is the most soul crushing, heart wrenching, bone shattering piece of media you will ever read like i can’t genuinely put into words how much this fic means to me on like a level like i can’t even describe it help it is one of those fics thag you have to read for yourself and you’ll understand because just when your hopes are up theyre down when they’re down they’re up again in some strange way part two is in the works so i’m preparing for my heart to get stamped on by the author and part 1 is like for me genuinely the absolute best fics on this app so I can’t wait

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | @hongjoongsart 🍓🌀

↳ you know when you like feel smth in your gut and you don’t know what, this is what this does to you I swear

a broken routine | @vampzity 🍓🍓🍓🍓🎧

MINGI

Goodbye Summer | @shocymer 🌀🌀🌀

↳ i did cry when i finished this

nightmare, daydream | @mingigoo 🍓💥

One New Message | @hwaightme 🌀

Home | @lovepookie 🍓🍓🍓

WOOYOUNG

Home for the Holidays | @highvern 🍓🌀💥

Say You Love Me Too | @crazyformfics 🍓

change of heart | @hotteoki 🍓

place in me | @starrysvn 🍓🌀🎧

↳ this is my wooyoung roman empire and it didn’t even happen irl

If Without You | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀

JONGHO

so lovely | @deathbyyeekies 🍓🍓🍓🍓 🎧🎧🎧

↳ i kid you not reading this changed my life like genuinely i’m a changed person now

killin me softly | @deathbyyeekies 🍓

glasses w/ jongho | @beenbaanbuun 🍓

zemblanity | @in-san-ity 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ it’s so nice watching tropes finally being done right like you don’t even understand how badly i needed this

20:15pm | @xuchiya 🍓

the fear still lingers | @03jyh23 🌀🌀🌀🌀🎧🎧🎧

↳ TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A BRIDGE AFTER READING THIS IF YOU’RE WANTING FUCKING INCREDIBLE ANGST READ THIS SHIT AND YOU’LL PHYSICALLY FEEL YOUR HEARTBREAK LIKE MINE DID

#ateez #ateez fic recs #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez au #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #kpop fic recs #ateez wooyoung #ateez kang yeosang

[starrysvn]

Oh. My. God.

The way I'm in literal tears after reading Angel, holy shit that was one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. I think I'm gonna binge read all of your works now

Please please please write more soulmate aus, I think I'm in love

- @the-kpop-simp

AAAAAAAAA😭😭 thank you so so so much, it truly means the world that you liked it and oMG SORRY FOR THE TEARS😭 no worries, i love soulmate aus they’re my roman empire, i’ll likely pop out more in the future🫡 thank you again for reading, i hope you’ll like my other stuff🥹 have the loveliest day!💝💘💖

#genuinely made my day #thank you so much <33333 #sending hugs

[starrysvn]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart, and if you get five back, you must be pretty awesome.💌

whAT IF I YELL?!?!?!! LOUDLY, TOO!!!? i love u sm, you are one of the nicest, kindest people to ever exist <333 i miss you! here, take all of my uwus and love and hearts and hugs 🫶🏻 i hope all is well🫂

#nadia🫶🏻🫶🏻 #my lovely bb #thank you sm i love u always #moot <3

[starrysvn]

just learned that a mutual of mine is pro israel (they’re now blocked) so i wanted to take the time to say that if you believe what’s happening in palestine is not a genocide than you are not welcome here. unfollow me block me whatever i don’t want you interacting with me at all

[starrysvn]

and if i cry??? punch a wall??? it means the whole world that you included my fic, esp bc i thought nobody really liked for the hope of it all dbsbdidh thank you so so so so much yumi❤️ i love u🫶🏻

atz fic recs [hyung line]

navigation

a record of the fics i've stumbled across. i'm a slow reader and there are a lot of fics by these talented writers mentioned here and the ones unmentioned that i haven't had the chance to read yet, so this will be an ongoing rec list! authors and readers, please let me know if a link or any part of this needs to be fixed ♡

pairings and general themes are mentioned, please check the author's specific warnings before reading. and minors, please dni with fics that have highlighted smut warnings.

deal by @hongism

hongjoong x f!reader (smut, roommates au)

“hongjoong + roommates au + “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.” for drabble game?”

punishment by @kitten4sannie

bf!hongjoong x afab!eader (fluff, smut)

what happens when you distract hongjoong from his work? he loses his temper, obviously. good thing that’s exactly what you were hoping for

guns and roses by @baekhvuns

hongjoong x reader (smut, enemies to lovers)

in which you and hongjoong make a deal to work together, for once, and yet it doesn’t go as it was planned.

honey and blood by @nateezfics

vampire!hongjoong x f!reader (smut)

mr. kim is as alluring as he is mysterious, and what lies beneath his gentlemanly demeanor is nothing short of a monster of the darkest kind. inviting him into your arms could mean your demise, but your desire for him is insatiable. they always did say the forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest…

in the rain by @hwaightme

bf!hongjoong x gn!reader (fluff)

while on a drive with hongjoong, you reminisce the many moments that form the priceless love you share, and think of the future that lays ahead.

don't you want me by @yeonjuns-beanie

hongjoong x f!reader (angst, smut, roommates au)

you and hongjoong have been roommates for a while and friends for even longer. over time he’s realized his feelings for you and now they can't be ignored. he asks you to accompany him to a release party hoping to find it within him to tell you his truths. when you get a little too close for comfort with one of his members, he decides how he’ll finally tell you. 

philoselene by @ncteez

alt!stoner!hongjoong x afab!reader (fluff, smut)

you weren’t sure what to think of hongjoong, with his ever-changing hair and ever-growing piercings. he is the complete opposite of you, and you’re unsure of why he keeps gravitating toward you, or why he found an interest in you at all. through his eyes though, he swears you’d be able to handle the weight of the moon if he were to pull it down for you. or the one where hongjoong would do just about anything for you, and he can’t help but show it when he’s got you on top of him for the first time.

duck curtains by @ichorai

roommate!hongjoong x reader (fluff, angst, friends to lovers)

the shower wasn't really the best place to hold conversations, but the both of you did it anyways.

love is gone by @ateezmakemeweep

seonghwa x reader (angst, smut)

park seonghwa was a notorious womanizer known for his dark appearance, callous attitude and the obvious fact he cared for no one but himself; it didn’t matter who someone was or what they did for him, he was always cold and indifferent. you were a once jaded student turned teachers pet, determined to just focus on your studies and try to cope with the tragedy that changed your life two years ago. it certainly didn’t help that, much to your confusion, the campus womanizer quickly seemed to take an interest in you. smiling at you, talking to you in class, going out of his way to make sure you knew he was completely and utterly interested in you. you could’ve never known the ulterior motives that he had then. how much you were gonna fall for him, trust him, come to love him, just for your world to fall apart once again when the truth about him eventually comes out. 

playing with fire by @ateezmakemeweep

sugardaddy!seonghwa x reader (fluff, angst, smut)

when your scholarship falls through during the last semester of your college career, you were, admittedly, on edge. overwhelmed by the prospect of delaying your graduation to save up thousands of dollars or work a second job or, per the suggestion of your roommate, sell pictures of your feet. you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father. that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year. but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of. 

richboy!seonghwa by @ateezmakemeweep

richboy!seonghwa x reader (fluff, angst, smut)

you’re the new girl at a prestegious school who quickly finds herself in a love triangle with the two most eligible rich boys: park seonghwa, the boy who proves himself to be the closest thing to perfect and kang yeosang, harsh bully turned love interest two. it’s an internal struggle for everyone involved, kisses behind closed doors, exposed secrets and tattered friendships, a case of choosing between something safe and easy or full of passion and intensity. “okay but a safe gentleman is better than some brooding asshole you always fight with.” “that is romanticism, you fool! passion and fighting and making up.”

you're the one that i want by @ateezmakemeweep

badboy!seonghwa x reader (angst, smut)

you expected to spend summer the way you always did: holed up in your aunts beach house hosting friday night bingo and sunday afternoon barbecues. instead, you find yourself pulled into a summer romance with the first boy to make your heart flutter despite the darkness and mystery that surrounds him. you expected to start at a new school that upcoming fall on a clean slate, your head still swarming with the boy who left you with a kiss on the lips and a promise to see you soon. but apparently, sooner meant in homeroom, your eyes meeting and the familiarity flashing in them immediately. you expected his smile to be as bright as yours so why was he looking at you like he never wanted to see you again?

on one condition by @ateezmakemeweep

seonghwa x reader (angst, fluff, a walk to remember au)

mr & mrs park by @baekhvuns

mafia!seonghwa x reader (romcom, angst, action, smut)

in which the task of killing your enemy is abruptly put on a pause when you discover their cute little secret.

bodyguard by @baekhvuns

seonghwa x reader (romcom, angst, smut)

in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

best you've ever had by @serendipityunho

ceo!seonghwa x f!reader (smut)

meeting seonghwa’s parents for the first time was one thing. but keeping your lewd moans quiet in his childhood bedroom was another. 

with you by @hwaightme

bf!seonghwa x reader (comfort, fluff)

even when it feels like the world is crashing down, seonghwa was, is and will be with you.

page me by @hwaightme

paediatrician!bf!seonghwa x neurosurgeon!gn!reader (fluff)

in the early hours of a shared night shift right before christmas, the present turns into a gift, and seonghwa can't be happier and more in love

essence by @hwaightme

bf!seonghwa x reader (comfort, fluff)

"i love the way that you're designed, love the way we intertwine, still don't need a reason why, you're beautiful and now you're mine" - you're beautiful by the rose

this world by @hwaightme

biker!seonghwa x f!reader (fluff, smut)

caught between the past and present, you search for a new beginning in night city as a mechanic at outlaw customs. how will a fateful encounter with seonghwa, the leader of the blue birds, help you feel alive?

love was spring by @hwaightme

seonghwa x reader (fluff, strangers to lovers)

following a serendipitous meeting with you, seonghwa blooms in love after heartbreak, and learns that "if you intend to love a single flower, you must love its generation and extinction, presence and absence." - Do Jonghwan

cat named mars by @hwaightme

catboy!hwa headcanons (fluff, crack)

unprofessional attraction by @jk97

teacher!yunho x college senior!reader (fluff, smut)

there's no such thing as a coincidence, right? collegesenior!reader (22) and linguistics teacher yunho jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. it's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. when someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. graduation can't seem to come fast enough.

closer, face down by @ncteez

yunho x f!reader (smut)

the one where your super super sweet and soft new boyfriend hasn’t made the slightest move on you despite you practically begging him to. you don’t realize it’s because he’s into some weird shit and definitely not because he’s a virgin.

playing in glass house by @honeyhotteoks

non idol!yunho x f!reader (smut)

the idea was simple, buy a new toy and spice up your relationship. you didn't expect it to be like this.

summer nights and summer's end by @honeyhotteoks

yunho x reader (fluff, smut, college non-idol au)

he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves. he’s your best friend and roommate, and the lines are starting to get pretty blurry between casual sex and emotions.

the worthy type by @mazeinthemiroh

yunho x best friend!reader (fluff, hurt/comfort, romance)

best friends didn't look at each other the way yunho looked at you. but you found it hard to believe that he could ever be interest in you. but oh how wrong you are...

wrong answer by @essenteez

yunho × f!reader (angst, smut)

you made a tough decision that left you absolutely devastated. falling in love with your best friend was unacceptable. you got to leave. the method was slowly vanishing from yunho's life until he would get used to your abstance. deep down, a voice kept telling you it was the right choice. however, yunho never meant to let you go as he stood in your door on one rainy spring evening, demanding an explanation.

opposites attract by @tainsan

yunho x f!reader (fluff, smut)

you are on the verge of being expelled, so your teacher helps you find a tutor, yet what you weren't expecing was much more than just tutoring sessions.

summer's dive and summer's storm by @santheestallion

yunho x f!reader (fluff, angst, smut, brother's best friend, boy next door)

something is noticeably different about yunho when he returns home after a long year away at college. the boy you knew as your brother’s best friend is suddenly charming, open, and dangerously handsome. you embark on a summer romance, discovering in the end exactly why your brother warned you to stay away.

out of the woods [part 2] [part 3] by @sluttywoozi

yunho x reader (angst, fluff, smut, friends to lovers)

you’ve been driving yunho nuts lately and he just can’t figure out why. he hates being annoyed with his friends, so he’s been avoiding you. it’s difficult to stay away when you’re locked together in a cabin with seven of your closest friends, though.

you're enough by @cheollipop

yunho x reader (fluff, hurt/comfort, angst)

with the soft scent of baby wipes following him, yunho helped you stand back up to face the storm within your mind.

GUY.exe by @hwaightme

yunho x reader (fluff)

you never expected for the character you designed for the newest dating simulator to be quite as realistic as this

like the cherry blossoms fall by @hwaightme

yunho x reader (fluff, best friends to lovers)

every spring is a beginning, and you cannot imagine it without jeong yunho, your friend through the many years. but as the cherry blossoms fall, what will happen when you fall the same?

four in the morning by @ateezmakemeweep

yunho x reader (fluff, smut, strangers to lovers au)

puppy pjs by @deathbyyeekies

yunho x reader (fluff, scenario)

dogboy!yuyu headcanons by @eightmakesonebraincell

headcanons (fluff, crack)

lovemaking/against a wall by @hongism

yunho x f!reader (smut, drabble)

twilight by @hongism

kinktober drabble (smut)

for the hope of it all by @starrysvn

yeosang x reader (angst, fluff)

“back when we were still changing for the better, wanting was enough, for me it was enough. to live for the hope of it all, cancel plans just in case you’d call and say “meet me behind the mall”. so much for summer love, saying “us”, cause you weren’t mine to lose.”

entropy by @in-san-ity

yeosang x f!reader (fluff, angst, smut, mafia au)

things never went according to plan; career wise, family wise, relationship wise and especially not when you were suddenly saddled with an infant to raise but you learned to roll with the punches. except the next challenge you were about to face wasn't a punch, it was a machine gun.

richboy!yeosang by @ateezmakemeweep

(fluff, angst, smut)

almost every part of your and yeosang’s relationship was unplanned. you didn’t plan to get a tutor as a scholarship student attending a prestigious high school or to get bullied and berated by him, so much to the point that you were always at each other’s throats.  you didn’t plan to kiss him as you were trapped in the elevator together, a boy who seemed like a much safer and smarter option forgotten, when the air between you quickly shifted into something extremely tumultuous and electric. and you especially didn’t plan to fall for him. to forgive him and date him and end up going to college together where yet another unplanned incident puts your strong, stable relationship to the test. (sequel to richboy!seonghwa)

badboy!yeosang by @ateezmakemeweep

(fluff, angst, smut)

all on your tongue by @ttalgiwooyo

yeosang x reader (smut, friends to lovers, brother's best friend)

#ateez fic recs #ilysm yumi <3

[starrysvn]

um. hi. i hate to do this again but life has thrown me and my partner another potentially disastrous curveball and we have just lost over half of our income. we're not sure if unemployment can be filed due to a recent promotion, and we're scrambling to figure out what this means for us. i don't currently work in order to focus on my studies and we have 2 dogs to take care of, so we're more than a little screwed. so please, if you can, it would mean the world if folks who see this could take a second to either a) reblog for a signal boost or b) donate to my ko-fi.

thanks for listening, orion.

[starrysvn]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA LOREENNNDHSJDHSJDHSJ i’m glad you liked this😭🫶🏻 hell yEAH SLEEPY X YEO SUPREMACY THEY’RE SO BACK

puppy love | kang yeosang

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader

genre: headcanon; e2l (i TRIED); co-workers au, volunteering at an animal shelter; fluff; angst if you really, really squint, crack (i’m nOT funny)

word count: 3.1k

rating: pg-13

warnings: none; one smooch, mayhaps a couple swear words (lowercase intended)

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happy belated christmas from your secret santa, @armysantiny !! i really hope you’ll enjoy this and i sincerely hoped you spent warm holidays surrounded by people you loved! <3 i’ve tried my very best with the e2l but mAN writing it is so much less fun than reading it. big, huge, thanks to @hwaightme for giving me wonderful ideas to use and delulus to ponder so i could write this down. ilysm <333

kang yeosang is one infuriating individual. for one, there is no way anyone can be so praised and well-liked by literally everyone. not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how his small smiles and quiet attitude could bewitch every last person he talked to. not when he would not bother to say hi in passing to you specifically, or resolve to small nods and monosyllables when talking. to you.

it seems that you are the problem.

you and him work volunteer shifts at the same shelter. only, he deals with cats while you deal with dogs so it wasn’t like you’d see each other that often, but it was often enough to know he doesn’t like you.

not enough to say hi, engage in any sort of coversation or, least of all, help out if needed.

until christmas.

the shelter was decked out, you spent a whole afternoon helping out with decorations, along with yunho and yena, two other volunteers.

and yeosang.

the man almost laughed his ass off watching you balance on a ladder in the most uncoordinated way possible to avoid falling. arms flailing around and everything.

he just stood there, an ornament in his hands, with his stupidly cute smile and watched.

you sigh, scratching behind the ear of the latest rescue dog that was brought in. you like baxter, he is chill and his black, shiny fur does not show signs of him having had to live out in the streets all on his own for weeks anymore. you like him best because it looks like he is listening when you ramble on, in disbelief of the rudeness showcased, about yeosang.

just then, a call of your name sounds in the air, the voice coming from the front desk of the shelter.

“see you later,” you leave behind baxter’s toy, leaving him with one last pat on the head, and make your way to the front where hongjoong had called for you.

you smile upon entering the reception area as it had been a joint decorating effort between you, yunho and yena. the result was looking very much like an elementary school christmas project, but you enjoy the general vibe. the senior rescuer currently behind the counter, looking rather preoccupied with a few papers, however, had just shook his head dejectedly upon seeing the final result.

“i’m sorry to be doing this, but could you take the christmas day shift?” he looks apologetic as he asks, rushing to explain. “it’d only be a half day, I promise that by one you can leave, we’ve got the staff taking care of the other shifts and the morning one’s the only one left uncovered-”

“no worries,” you interrupt his rambling. “i’ll be there.”

hongjoong smiles, looking relieved only for a second, before his face betrays further worrying.

“what is it?”

“nothing, i,” he sighs, shoulders sagging upon seeing the inquisitive look on your face. “yeosang will be working the same shift.”

defeat. dejection. betrayed trust. you groan dramatically, barely hearing hongjoong say that you’d already agreed and it would not be that bad.

surely it’d make for an interesting christmas.

when you arrive on christmas morning, the night shift staff gives you a tired nod and you offer him a smile in return, quickly wishing him happy holidays.

you waste no time in doing the rounds, giving all the cute doggos their breakfast.

while going over the duty checklist left from the night shift staff you hear the bell jingle in the front and roll your eyes.

when you finally decide to go up front it takes a couple of minutes before yeosang finally comes into view.

decked out in his funniest ugly sweater it reads “here comes santa paws” and has a cat wearing a christmas hat on it and with his long hair tucked behind his ears, he’s coming up to you with an awkward air about him.

you squint your eyes in suspicion.

“merry christmas,”

you’re floored, shocked, gaping like a fish looking up at your co-worker who for the first time ever has spoken to you first.

“cookie?” he produces a tupperware from behind his back, carefully removing the lid to reveal the most crooked, ill-decorated christmas cookies you’ve ever seen. some look slightly burned. a gingerbread man has three eyes.

you’re still gaping, not in the slightest understanding how it's possible that he’s spoken to you first, and also not noticing how ever so slowly a blush starts to creep up on his cheeks.

maybe you’re hallucinating, but it snaps you out of your trance.

you quickly reach for the gingerbread man with three eyes.

“thanks,” you mumble, giving him a small smile. “merry christmas.”

yeosang nods, closing the tupperware and disappearing without a word.

so you’re left there, cookie in hand, not knowing what to do with this.

you stay put, eating your cookie, until you hear a loud bang.

you rush to the source of it, finding a very flustered yeosang surrounded by cat litter. at least it’s clean.

you hold in your laughter, seeing him stand there, look around and try to come up with a plan.

“a little help?” you pretend to wipe away tears, facing his deadpan expression.

“you would’ve let me fall from a ladder,”

“you would’ve survived,”

you scoff, turning around to grab the broom and toss it his way. Yeosang catches it, just barely.

“really?”

“you scared my dogs.”

with that, you leave him to his mess, going to comfort and play a little bit with the shaken up puppies.

it’s not until a little later that you show up at the front desk again, noticing yeosang is already sitting there, typing away on the computer.

he’s also got the phone pressed to his ear, helping out someone on the line with cat duties, speaking with his honey voice and a small smile on his face.

it’s almost mesmerizing seeing him wear an expression that’s not his usual blank stare he holds up around you.

“if you’re done staring, we’ve got hongjoong’s checklist to go through,”

just like that, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, heat pervading your face.

“sure,” you shrug, going over to him to take a look at it, trying not to stare at his smug pout.

deep down, very deep down, you think about kissing it away.

if he weren’t so unbearable. but he is. so.

the checklist read “lobby Ikea chairs”

you both looked at each other, confused, until you noticed the boxes hidden behind the counter.

there was a post-it on it that read: “good luck! -HJ”

simply infuriating. you’d lost count of all the times you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes or drop everything and go back to your dogs.

there was no trace of the cold, odd yeosang you were used to.

he’d casually sat down on the spot where you were assembling the Ikea chairs, picked up the instruction manual and waited for you to hand him the screwdriver. bewildered, you had.

that was about two hours ago, before trying to follow instructions had gone to your heads, when it was only extremely awkward and quiet while he read the manual and you tried your best to sneak glances at him. to figure out what possibly could have been going through his head, of course.

now you were busy trying to one up each other in an undeclared war of who is the best handyman, clearly having lost the main aim: building the damned chairs.

“you were supposed to put in the screw first and then the little wooden thingy.”

“does it matter?”

“does your chair look structurally sound?”

“listen, if we start over-” pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes closed with a sigh, you stop him before he could finish his sentence.

“like hell we are, it took us two hours just to get to this.”

“exactly,” his deadpan tone leaves you no choice but to sigh.

“fine,” you give in.

you were going to kill hongjoong.

because it took you only two hours to realize all it took for yeosang to distract you were his hands working on assembling furniture, his voice asking you to pass him stuff and his silence.

if you hated it before, now you appreciated the quiet moments where all you could hear was the faint music coming from the radio and the occasional bark or meow that prompted one of you to stand up and go check on your animals.

of course it was because you didn’t have to hear his disdainful reprimanding, not at all because it gave you the chance to throw glances at him and how a few strands of hair escaped the clips pinning it back and framing his face very nicely. no, not at all. you still couldn’t stand him. mhmh.

once you finally finish building the chairs, he helps you set them up in exchange for the older ones, now piled up in the storage room.

it’s almost second nature for you to hold up your fist for him to bump.

it’s just a thing you do all the time with your friends but now you’re standing there awkwardly, fist mid air, yeosang staring at you very lost, eyes going back and forth from your face to your hand and of course now he’s not going to want to see your face ever again and you feel embarrassment slowly and steadily creeping in the more you stand there until

he fist-bumps back

a little puzzled, seemingly asking if he’s done the right thing with one look, before dropping his hand and clearing his voice

you do the same

“gotta go see the dogs,”

“yeah, no, me too… i mean, the cats, yeah, so-”

he turns around and speeds away.

you follow him.

“so how’re the cats?”

yeosang jumps on his spot, almost dropping the little mouse toy he was about to throw for a kitty to catch.

“sleeping, mostly,” he shrugs. “how’re the dogs?”

you motion for him to follow and, surprisingly, he does.

immediately, he greets the ones that are up or go up to him with a smile on his face that you’ve never seen.

it shines brighter than the sun and you find yourself smiling as well, seeing him crouch down and pat dogs left and right.

then you get a grip, not for long

it leaves you pleasantly surprised how he follows while you introduce him to every dog, how he listens while you explain why they’re there, their stories, their backgrounds

but then, while you try to get some of the dogs to play with you so he could finish the round of greetings, he reaches the puppies’ enclosure and enters it to sit among them

and while he tries to play catch with a couple, one makes his way into his arms

and when he looks down at the pup, he’s wearing the most adoring expression

like a kid seeing snow for the first time

it’s wondrous and starry and happy

and you’re staring as he softly pats the puppy’s head and coos at it

“what’s his name?”

you almost don’t answer, too focused on the scene unfolding and having trouble locating the information he’s asked for in your brain

“i don’t think he has one,” you mumble, patting baxter’s head

“sleepy,” he looks down at the puppy. “cause he’s asleep while everyone wants to play, you know?”

you just nod with a smile, or at least you hope it is because what the fuck

why are you losing your mind over yeosang cradling a sleeping puppy?

why is your brain recognizing just now that your stomach’s doing cartwheels? why do you want to look away but also keep staring?

“what’s this?” you think he’s speaking to himself, but you still catch the words leaving his mouth as he enquires the toy another puppy has just brought him

then yeosang looks up at you, eyes wide as saucers, and your heart drops for being caught staring

he doesn’t say a thing, but looks down prompting you to do the same

it’s the mistletoe chew toy

yunho’s brilliant idea of getting the dogs christmas themed toys

yeosang looks away throwing it

“yunho,” you start, catching your coworker’s attention. “yunho’s idea, to get them those.”

you offer him a pained smile as he nods, scratching his head.

“seonghwa too, for the cats…”

“ah, really?”

“yeah…”

you want to bash your head into the wall

but the phone saves you, so you dash to the front, escaping the burning flames of awkwardness

it turns out to be a family wanting to adopt as a christmas present for their kids

so you say that yes, you’re open and yes they can come in whenever

when they do, yeosang has re-emerged and stands beside you, silent like always

this time around, though, you fear he’ll hear your heart beating out of your chest at the proximity

why’s he so close?

you almost jump to greet the happy family of four when they walk in to the sound of let it snow coming from the radio

“we were afraid it wasn’t going to stop!” the dad says, brushing off some snow from his hat

turns out they’d like to adopt a dog

it surprises you that yeosang follows when you lead the family in but you try to pay him no mind

the kids seem to be enamored with every dog they see, their parents giving them free reign

they’re still very polite and don’t cause much ruckus or yell too loud, which you’re grateful for

“could you tell us more about him?”

you’re about to turn to answer the question, if it weren’t that yeosang’s already at it

he’s introducing the kids to baxter

“he’s been here for a while, he’s very fond of our y/n and his favorite snack is carrots. he doesn’t like loud noises all that much. his past owners left him here because they could no longer take care of him, but he’s looking to find a new home,” he speaks as if he’s always been taking care of him, like he hadn’t just learned all that stuff half an hour ago

and he has his smile on, the one who could charm and warm up even the coldest of hearts

except one detail

you didn’t notice the little girl facing the puppies enclosure

until you hear her go “that one’s sleeping!”

but you can’t tear your eyes away from yeosang and his can’t help but hear his soft giggle as he says “his name’s sleepy”

yeah you want to punch a wall just about now

though you have to snap out of it quick

because you’re now letting this nice family adopt baxter and can’t fuck up the procedure or hongjoong will have your head

“how’d you know?” you ask, a little melancholic but over the moon to finally see your baxter go to a family worthy of him, as you both watch the car pull out of the parking lot.

“know what?” when yeosang turns to look at you, it’s with a shadow of a smile and curious eyes, an expression you’ve rarely ever seen directed your way

you swallow hard before speaking next

“that baxter’s fond of me”

his eyes light up in recognition

yeosang swore no soul shall ever know of this

but now he feels his resolution coming apart under your waiting eyes

because truth is, he’s noticed

he notices everything about you

from how you walk in dragging your feet when you have an early morning shift, relying on your cup of coffee, to how you laugh loudly at yunho’s jokes, always get your favorite snack from the vending machines at just about the same time he goes to get his melon pan he does wait for you to be done before going up to the machines himself

and how deeply you care for the dogs and how you seem to have a soft spot for baxter

maybe he’s even heard you once or twice rambling on and on to him about how you don’t get why he doesn’t like you

truth is, he sees you, and he likes you

so much

too much

he’s afraid of doing the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and make you hate him

but apparently his plan had backfired immensely

that’s why he insisted hongjoong gave him and not seonghwa the christmas shift

he even baked stupid cookies to give you

“ah, well…” yeosang has no idea how to get out of this one. “you just seemed to like him a lot from the way you spoke about him”

you hum, not really convinced

yeosang notices though, just as he notices the car of the afternoon staff pull in under the snowfall to free you of your volunteering duties

it’s not long before the shift’s over and he’s not going to see you until after the holidays

so, as you part ways to say goodbye to the pets and grab your coats, he musters up some courage

under the snowfall, he calls your name

when you turn around his dark hair is lightly dusted with snowflakes, only making him look more ethereal, and his eyes are determined

you don’t know what’s up with you today and why suddenly he’s making you feel like a teenager dealing with their first crush under his gaze

“yes?”

he comes closer, much more than he’s ever been, so close that you’re frozen on the spot

“just wanted to let you know that you can redeem your mistletoe kiss whenever you want to”

there’s a smugness in his voice, in his pouty smirk and a sense of accomplishment shining clear in his honey eyes

have they always been this mesmerizing?

his words and his warmth leave you breathless for just a beat too long, until your eyes fall on his lips

when you look back into his eyes, his are already looking at you, waiting

“alright,” you mutter lowly, pecking his lips once, testing the waters

he places another peck on your lips and, before you know, you’re kissing him

it feels exhilarating, and soft, so soft, just like his lips. just like the hand that’s come up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer, deepening the kiss.

when you come up for air you giggle, yeosang following suit

“may i also interest you in a coffee?” he asks, hand still on your cheek, gently brushing away snowflakes before they melt. you smile.

“i thought you hated me,” it almost sounds like a question and your brow furrows when he clicks his tongue.

“have you ever heard about the concept of quiet, introverted people who feel highly intimidated by awesome, funny, pretty people?”

you laugh, finally presented with the answer to the question that most replayed in your head

“take me on a date, hilarious, quiet, handsome guy”

he blushes and you know he’ll blame it on the cold, but only brushes his nose against yours

and to think you thought he couldn’t stand you mere hours ago

now he’s here, making your heart melt like snow upon touching his perfect skin

#makes me very happ to know it pulled a giggle out of you #thank u for reading <33 #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #kang yeosang au #kang yeosang x y/n #kang yeosang fluff #moot!!

[starrysvn]

AAAAAAAAAA I’M GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! <33 ndhxdjdhkacnsn i’m more than okay with pulling a giggle out of people🤩 i’m also an introvert, high five😎

puppy love | kang yeosang

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader

genre: headcanon; e2l (i TRIED); co-workers au, volunteering at an animal shelter; fluff; angst if you really, really squint, crack (i’m nOT funny)

word count: 3.1k

rating: pg-13

warnings: none; one smooch, mayhaps a couple swear words (lowercase intended)

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happy belated christmas from your secret santa, @armysantiny !! i really hope you’ll enjoy this and i sincerely hoped you spent warm holidays surrounded by people you loved! <3 i’ve tried my very best with the e2l but mAN writing it is so much less fun than reading it. big, huge, thanks to @hwaightme for giving me wonderful ideas to use and delulus to ponder so i could write this down. ilysm <333

kang yeosang is one infuriating individual. for one, there is no way anyone can be so praised and well-liked by literally everyone. not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how his small smiles and quiet attitude could bewitch every last person he talked to. not when he would not bother to say hi in passing to you specifically, or resolve to small nods and monosyllables when talking. to you.

it seems that you are the problem.

you and him work volunteer shifts at the same shelter. only, he deals with cats while you deal with dogs so it wasn’t like you’d see each other that often, but it was often enough to know he doesn’t like you.

not enough to say hi, engage in any sort of coversation or, least of all, help out if needed.

until christmas.

the shelter was decked out, you spent a whole afternoon helping out with decorations, along with yunho and yena, two other volunteers.

and yeosang.

the man almost laughed his ass off watching you balance on a ladder in the most uncoordinated way possible to avoid falling. arms flailing around and everything.

he just stood there, an ornament in his hands, with his stupidly cute smile and watched.

you sigh, scratching behind the ear of the latest rescue dog that was brought in. you like baxter, he is chill and his black, shiny fur does not show signs of him having had to live out in the streets all on his own for weeks anymore. you like him best because it looks like he is listening when you ramble on, in disbelief of the rudeness showcased, about yeosang.

just then, a call of your name sounds in the air, the voice coming from the front desk of the shelter.

“see you later,” you leave behind baxter’s toy, leaving him with one last pat on the head, and make your way to the front where hongjoong had called for you.

you smile upon entering the reception area as it had been a joint decorating effort between you, yunho and yena. the result was looking very much like an elementary school christmas project, but you enjoy the general vibe. the senior rescuer currently behind the counter, looking rather preoccupied with a few papers, however, had just shook his head dejectedly upon seeing the final result.

“i’m sorry to be doing this, but could you take the christmas day shift?” he looks apologetic as he asks, rushing to explain. “it’d only be a half day, I promise that by one you can leave, we’ve got the staff taking care of the other shifts and the morning one’s the only one left uncovered-”

“no worries,” you interrupt his rambling. “i’ll be there.”

hongjoong smiles, looking relieved only for a second, before his face betrays further worrying.

“what is it?”

“nothing, i,” he sighs, shoulders sagging upon seeing the inquisitive look on your face. “yeosang will be working the same shift.”

defeat. dejection. betrayed trust. you groan dramatically, barely hearing hongjoong say that you’d already agreed and it would not be that bad.

surely it’d make for an interesting christmas.

when you arrive on christmas morning, the night shift staff gives you a tired nod and you offer him a smile in return, quickly wishing him happy holidays.

you waste no time in doing the rounds, giving all the cute doggos their breakfast.

while going over the duty checklist left from the night shift staff you hear the bell jingle in the front and roll your eyes.

when you finally decide to go up front it takes a couple of minutes before yeosang finally comes into view.

decked out in his funniest ugly sweater it reads “here comes santa paws” and has a cat wearing a christmas hat on it and with his long hair tucked behind his ears, he’s coming up to you with an awkward air about him.

you squint your eyes in suspicion.

“merry christmas,”

you’re floored, shocked, gaping like a fish looking up at your co-worker who for the first time ever has spoken to you first.

“cookie?” he produces a tupperware from behind his back, carefully removing the lid to reveal the most crooked, ill-decorated christmas cookies you’ve ever seen. some look slightly burned. a gingerbread man has three eyes.

you’re still gaping, not in the slightest understanding how it's possible that he’s spoken to you first, and also not noticing how ever so slowly a blush starts to creep up on his cheeks.

maybe you’re hallucinating, but it snaps you out of your trance.

you quickly reach for the gingerbread man with three eyes.

“thanks,” you mumble, giving him a small smile. “merry christmas.”

yeosang nods, closing the tupperware and disappearing without a word.

so you’re left there, cookie in hand, not knowing what to do with this.

you stay put, eating your cookie, until you hear a loud bang.

you rush to the source of it, finding a very flustered yeosang surrounded by cat litter. at least it’s clean.

you hold in your laughter, seeing him stand there, look around and try to come up with a plan.

“a little help?” you pretend to wipe away tears, facing his deadpan expression.

“you would’ve let me fall from a ladder,”

“you would’ve survived,”

you scoff, turning around to grab the broom and toss it his way. Yeosang catches it, just barely.

“really?”

“you scared my dogs.”

with that, you leave him to his mess, going to comfort and play a little bit with the shaken up puppies.

it’s not until a little later that you show up at the front desk again, noticing yeosang is already sitting there, typing away on the computer.

he’s also got the phone pressed to his ear, helping out someone on the line with cat duties, speaking with his honey voice and a small smile on his face.

it’s almost mesmerizing seeing him wear an expression that’s not his usual blank stare he holds up around you.

“if you’re done staring, we’ve got hongjoong’s checklist to go through,”

just like that, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, heat pervading your face.

“sure,” you shrug, going over to him to take a look at it, trying not to stare at his smug pout.

deep down, very deep down, you think about kissing it away.

if he weren’t so unbearable. but he is. so.

the checklist read “lobby Ikea chairs”

you both looked at each other, confused, until you noticed the boxes hidden behind the counter.

there was a post-it on it that read: “good luck! -HJ”

simply infuriating. you’d lost count of all the times you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes or drop everything and go back to your dogs.

there was no trace of the cold, odd yeosang you were used to.

he’d casually sat down on the spot where you were assembling the Ikea chairs, picked up the instruction manual and waited for you to hand him the screwdriver. bewildered, you had.

that was about two hours ago, before trying to follow instructions had gone to your heads, when it was only extremely awkward and quiet while he read the manual and you tried your best to sneak glances at him. to figure out what possibly could have been going through his head, of course.

now you were busy trying to one up each other in an undeclared war of who is the best handyman, clearly having lost the main aim: building the damned chairs.

“you were supposed to put in the screw first and then the little wooden thingy.”

“does it matter?”

“does your chair look structurally sound?”

“listen, if we start over-” pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes closed with a sigh, you stop him before he could finish his sentence.

“like hell we are, it took us two hours just to get to this.”

“exactly,” his deadpan tone leaves you no choice but to sigh.

“fine,” you give in.

you were going to kill hongjoong.

because it took you only two hours to realize all it took for yeosang to distract you were his hands working on assembling furniture, his voice asking you to pass him stuff and his silence.

if you hated it before, now you appreciated the quiet moments where all you could hear was the faint music coming from the radio and the occasional bark or meow that prompted one of you to stand up and go check on your animals.

of course it was because you didn’t have to hear his disdainful reprimanding, not at all because it gave you the chance to throw glances at him and how a few strands of hair escaped the clips pinning it back and framing his face very nicely. no, not at all. you still couldn’t stand him. mhmh.

once you finally finish building the chairs, he helps you set them up in exchange for the older ones, now piled up in the storage room.

it’s almost second nature for you to hold up your fist for him to bump.

it’s just a thing you do all the time with your friends but now you’re standing there awkwardly, fist mid air, yeosang staring at you very lost, eyes going back and forth from your face to your hand and of course now he’s not going to want to see your face ever again and you feel embarrassment slowly and steadily creeping in the more you stand there until

he fist-bumps back

a little puzzled, seemingly asking if he’s done the right thing with one look, before dropping his hand and clearing his voice

you do the same

“gotta go see the dogs,”

“yeah, no, me too… i mean, the cats, yeah, so-”

he turns around and speeds away.

you follow him.

“so how’re the cats?”

yeosang jumps on his spot, almost dropping the little mouse toy he was about to throw for a kitty to catch.

“sleeping, mostly,” he shrugs. “how’re the dogs?”

you motion for him to follow and, surprisingly, he does.

immediately, he greets the ones that are up or go up to him with a smile on his face that you’ve never seen.

it shines brighter than the sun and you find yourself smiling as well, seeing him crouch down and pat dogs left and right.

then you get a grip, not for long

it leaves you pleasantly surprised how he follows while you introduce him to every dog, how he listens while you explain why they’re there, their stories, their backgrounds

but then, while you try to get some of the dogs to play with you so he could finish the round of greetings, he reaches the puppies’ enclosure and enters it to sit among them

and while he tries to play catch with a couple, one makes his way into his arms

and when he looks down at the pup, he’s wearing the most adoring expression

like a kid seeing snow for the first time

it’s wondrous and starry and happy

and you’re staring as he softly pats the puppy’s head and coos at it

“what’s his name?”

you almost don’t answer, too focused on the scene unfolding and having trouble locating the information he’s asked for in your brain

“i don’t think he has one,” you mumble, patting baxter’s head

“sleepy,” he looks down at the puppy. “cause he’s asleep while everyone wants to play, you know?”

you just nod with a smile, or at least you hope it is because what the fuck

why are you losing your mind over yeosang cradling a sleeping puppy?

why is your brain recognizing just now that your stomach’s doing cartwheels? why do you want to look away but also keep staring?

“what’s this?” you think he’s speaking to himself, but you still catch the words leaving his mouth as he enquires the toy another puppy has just brought him

then yeosang looks up at you, eyes wide as saucers, and your heart drops for being caught staring

he doesn’t say a thing, but looks down prompting you to do the same

it’s the mistletoe chew toy

yunho’s brilliant idea of getting the dogs christmas themed toys

yeosang looks away throwing it

“yunho,” you start, catching your coworker’s attention. “yunho’s idea, to get them those.”

you offer him a pained smile as he nods, scratching his head.

“seonghwa too, for the cats…”

“ah, really?”

“yeah…”

you want to bash your head into the wall

but the phone saves you, so you dash to the front, escaping the burning flames of awkwardness

it turns out to be a family wanting to adopt as a christmas present for their kids

so you say that yes, you’re open and yes they can come in whenever

when they do, yeosang has re-emerged and stands beside you, silent like always

this time around, though, you fear he’ll hear your heart beating out of your chest at the proximity

why’s he so close?

you almost jump to greet the happy family of four when they walk in to the sound of let it snow coming from the radio

“we were afraid it wasn’t going to stop!” the dad says, brushing off some snow from his hat

turns out they’d like to adopt a dog

it surprises you that yeosang follows when you lead the family in but you try to pay him no mind

the kids seem to be enamored with every dog they see, their parents giving them free reign

they’re still very polite and don’t cause much ruckus or yell too loud, which you’re grateful for

“could you tell us more about him?”

you’re about to turn to answer the question, if it weren’t that yeosang’s already at it

he’s introducing the kids to baxter

“he’s been here for a while, he’s very fond of our y/n and his favorite snack is carrots. he doesn’t like loud noises all that much. his past owners left him here because they could no longer take care of him, but he’s looking to find a new home,” he speaks as if he’s always been taking care of him, like he hadn’t just learned all that stuff half an hour ago

and he has his smile on, the one who could charm and warm up even the coldest of hearts

except one detail

you didn’t notice the little girl facing the puppies enclosure

until you hear her go “that one’s sleeping!”

but you can’t tear your eyes away from yeosang and his can’t help but hear his soft giggle as he says “his name’s sleepy”

yeah you want to punch a wall just about now

though you have to snap out of it quick

because you’re now letting this nice family adopt baxter and can’t fuck up the procedure or hongjoong will have your head

“how’d you know?” you ask, a little melancholic but over the moon to finally see your baxter go to a family worthy of him, as you both watch the car pull out of the parking lot.

“know what?” when yeosang turns to look at you, it’s with a shadow of a smile and curious eyes, an expression you’ve rarely ever seen directed your way

you swallow hard before speaking next

“that baxter’s fond of me”

his eyes light up in recognition

yeosang swore no soul shall ever know of this

but now he feels his resolution coming apart under your waiting eyes

because truth is, he’s noticed

he notices everything about you

from how you walk in dragging your feet when you have an early morning shift, relying on your cup of coffee, to how you laugh loudly at yunho’s jokes, always get your favorite snack from the vending machines at just about the same time he goes to get his melon pan he does wait for you to be done before going up to the machines himself

and how deeply you care for the dogs and how you seem to have a soft spot for baxter

maybe he’s even heard you once or twice rambling on and on to him about how you don’t get why he doesn’t like you

truth is, he sees you, and he likes you

so much

too much

he’s afraid of doing the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and make you hate him

but apparently his plan had backfired immensely

that’s why he insisted hongjoong gave him and not seonghwa the christmas shift

he even baked stupid cookies to give you

“ah, well…” yeosang has no idea how to get out of this one. “you just seemed to like him a lot from the way you spoke about him”

you hum, not really convinced

yeosang notices though, just as he notices the car of the afternoon staff pull in under the snowfall to free you of your volunteering duties

it’s not long before the shift’s over and he’s not going to see you until after the holidays

so, as you part ways to say goodbye to the pets and grab your coats, he musters up some courage

under the snowfall, he calls your name

when you turn around his dark hair is lightly dusted with snowflakes, only making him look more ethereal, and his eyes are determined

you don’t know what’s up with you today and why suddenly he’s making you feel like a teenager dealing with their first crush under his gaze

“yes?”

he comes closer, much more than he’s ever been, so close that you’re frozen on the spot

“just wanted to let you know that you can redeem your mistletoe kiss whenever you want to”

there’s a smugness in his voice, in his pouty smirk and a sense of accomplishment shining clear in his honey eyes

have they always been this mesmerizing?

his words and his warmth leave you breathless for just a beat too long, until your eyes fall on his lips

when you look back into his eyes, his are already looking at you, waiting

“alright,” you mutter lowly, pecking his lips once, testing the waters

he places another peck on your lips and, before you know, you’re kissing him

it feels exhilarating, and soft, so soft, just like his lips. just like the hand that’s come up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer, deepening the kiss.

when you come up for air you giggle, yeosang following suit

“may i also interest you in a coffee?” he asks, hand still on your cheek, gently brushing away snowflakes before they melt. you smile.

“i thought you hated me,” it almost sounds like a question and your brow furrows when he clicks his tongue.

“have you ever heard about the concept of quiet, introverted people who feel highly intimidated by awesome, funny, pretty people?”

you laugh, finally presented with the answer to the question that most replayed in your head

“take me on a date, hilarious, quiet, handsome guy”

he blushes and you know he’ll blame it on the cold, but only brushes his nose against yours

and to think you thought he couldn’t stand you mere hours ago

now he’s here, making your heart melt like snow upon touching his perfect skin

#ateez yeosang #yeosang #ateez

[starrysvn]

puppy love | kang yeosang

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader

genre: headcanon; e2l (i TRIED); co-workers au, volunteering at an animal shelter; fluff; angst if you really, really squint, crack (i’m nOT funny)

word count: 3.1k

rating: pg-13

warnings: none; one smooch, mayhaps a couple swear words (lowercase intended)

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happy belated christmas from your secret santa, @armysantiny !! i really hope you’ll enjoy this and i sincerely hoped you spent warm holidays surrounded by people you loved! <3 i’ve tried my very best with the e2l but mAN writing it is so much less fun than reading it. big, huge, thanks to @hwaightme for giving me wonderful ideas to use and delulus to ponder so i could write this down. ilysm <333

kang yeosang is one infuriating individual. for one, there is no way anyone can be so praised and well-liked by literally everyone. not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how his small smiles and quiet attitude could bewitch every last person he talked to. not when he would not bother to say hi in passing to you specifically, or resolve to small nods and monosyllables when talking. to you.

it seems that you are the problem.

you and him work volunteer shifts at the same shelter. only, he deals with cats while you deal with dogs so it wasn’t like you’d see each other that often, but it was often enough to know he doesn’t like you.

not enough to say hi, engage in any sort of coversation or, least of all, help out if needed.

until christmas.

the shelter was decked out, you spent a whole afternoon helping out with decorations, along with yunho and yena, two other volunteers.

and yeosang.

the man almost laughed his ass off watching you balance on a ladder in the most uncoordinated way possible to avoid falling. arms flailing around and everything.

he just stood there, an ornament in his hands, with his stupidly cute smile and watched.

you sigh, scratching behind the ear of the latest rescue dog that was brought in. you like baxter, he is chill and his black, shiny fur does not show signs of him having had to live out in the streets all on his own for weeks anymore. you like him best because it looks like he is listening when you ramble on, in disbelief of the rudeness showcased, about yeosang.

just then, a call of your name sounds in the air, the voice coming from the front desk of the shelter.

“see you later,” you leave behind baxter’s toy, leaving him with one last pat on the head, and make your way to the front where hongjoong had called for you.

you smile upon entering the reception area as it had been a joint decorating effort between you, yunho and yena. the result was looking very much like an elementary school christmas project, but you enjoy the general vibe. the senior rescuer currently behind the counter, looking rather preoccupied with a few papers, however, had just shook his head dejectedly upon seeing the final result.

“i’m sorry to be doing this, but could you take the christmas day shift?” he looks apologetic as he asks, rushing to explain. “it’d only be a half day, I promise that by one you can leave, we’ve got the staff taking care of the other shifts and the morning one’s the only one left uncovered-”

“no worries,” you interrupt his rambling. “i’ll be there.”

hongjoong smiles, looking relieved only for a second, before his face betrays further worrying.

“what is it?”

“nothing, i,” he sighs, shoulders sagging upon seeing the inquisitive look on your face. “yeosang will be working the same shift.”

defeat. dejection. betrayed trust. you groan dramatically, barely hearing hongjoong say that you’d already agreed and it would not be that bad.

surely it’d make for an interesting christmas.

when you arrive on christmas morning, the night shift staff gives you a tired nod and you offer him a smile in return, quickly wishing him happy holidays.

you waste no time in doing the rounds, giving all the cute doggos their breakfast.

while going over the duty checklist left from the night shift staff you hear the bell jingle in the front and roll your eyes.

when you finally decide to go up front it takes a couple of minutes before yeosang finally comes into view.

decked out in his funniest ugly sweater it reads “here comes santa paws” and has a cat wearing a christmas hat on it and with his long hair tucked behind his ears, he’s coming up to you with an awkward air about him.

you squint your eyes in suspicion.

“merry christmas,”

you’re floored, shocked, gaping like a fish looking up at your co-worker who for the first time ever has spoken to you first.

“cookie?” he produces a tupperware from behind his back, carefully removing the lid to reveal the most crooked, ill-decorated christmas cookies you’ve ever seen. some look slightly burned. a gingerbread man has three eyes.

you’re still gaping, not in the slightest understanding how it's possible that he’s spoken to you first, and also not noticing how ever so slowly a blush starts to creep up on his cheeks.

maybe you’re hallucinating, but it snaps you out of your trance.

you quickly reach for the gingerbread man with three eyes.

“thanks,” you mumble, giving him a small smile. “merry christmas.”

yeosang nods, closing the tupperware and disappearing without a word.

so you’re left there, cookie in hand, not knowing what to do with this.

you stay put, eating your cookie, until you hear a loud bang.

you rush to the source of it, finding a very flustered yeosang surrounded by cat litter. at least it’s clean.

you hold in your laughter, seeing him stand there, look around and try to come up with a plan.

“a little help?” you pretend to wipe away tears, facing his deadpan expression.

“you would’ve let me fall from a ladder,”

“you would’ve survived,”

you scoff, turning around to grab the broom and toss it his way. Yeosang catches it, just barely.

“really?”

“you scared my dogs.”

with that, you leave him to his mess, going to comfort and play a little bit with the shaken up puppies.

it’s not until a little later that you show up at the front desk again, noticing yeosang is already sitting there, typing away on the computer.

he’s also got the phone pressed to his ear, helping out someone on the line with cat duties, speaking with his honey voice and a small smile on his face.

it’s almost mesmerizing seeing him wear an expression that’s not his usual blank stare he holds up around you.

“if you’re done staring, we’ve got hongjoong’s checklist to go through,”

just like that, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, heat pervading your face.

“sure,” you shrug, going over to him to take a look at it, trying not to stare at his smug pout.

deep down, very deep down, you think about kissing it away.

if he weren’t so unbearable. but he is. so.

the checklist read “lobby Ikea chairs”

you both looked at each other, confused, until you noticed the boxes hidden behind the counter.

there was a post-it on it that read: “good luck! -HJ”

simply infuriating. you’d lost count of all the times you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes or drop everything and go back to your dogs.

there was no trace of the cold, odd yeosang you were used to.

he’d casually sat down on the spot where you were assembling the Ikea chairs, picked up the instruction manual and waited for you to hand him the screwdriver. bewildered, you had.

that was about two hours ago, before trying to follow instructions had gone to your heads, when it was only extremely awkward and quiet while he read the manual and you tried your best to sneak glances at him. to figure out what possibly could have been going through his head, of course.

now you were busy trying to one up each other in an undeclared war of who is the best handyman, clearly having lost the main aim: building the damned chairs.

“you were supposed to put in the screw first and then the little wooden thingy.”

“does it matter?”

“does your chair look structurally sound?”

“listen, if we start over-” pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes closed with a sigh, you stop him before he could finish his sentence.

“like hell we are, it took us two hours just to get to this.”

“exactly,” his deadpan tone leaves you no choice but to sigh.

“fine,” you give in.

you were going to kill hongjoong.

because it took you only two hours to realize all it took for yeosang to distract you were his hands working on assembling furniture, his voice asking you to pass him stuff and his silence.

if you hated it before, now you appreciated the quiet moments where all you could hear was the faint music coming from the radio and the occasional bark or meow that prompted one of you to stand up and go check on your animals.

of course it was because you didn’t have to hear his disdainful reprimanding, not at all because it gave you the chance to throw glances at him and how a few strands of hair escaped the clips pinning it back and framing his face very nicely. no, not at all. you still couldn’t stand him. mhmh.

once you finally finish building the chairs, he helps you set them up in exchange for the older ones, now piled up in the storage room.

it’s almost second nature for you to hold up your fist for him to bump.

it’s just a thing you do all the time with your friends but now you’re standing there awkwardly, fist mid air, yeosang staring at you very lost, eyes going back and forth from your face to your hand and of course now he’s not going to want to see your face ever again and you feel embarrassment slowly and steadily creeping in the more you stand there until

he fist-bumps back

a little puzzled, seemingly asking if he’s done the right thing with one look, before dropping his hand and clearing his voice

you do the same

“gotta go see the dogs,”

“yeah, no, me too… i mean, the cats, yeah, so-”

he turns around and speeds away.

you follow him.

“so how’re the cats?”

yeosang jumps on his spot, almost dropping the little mouse toy he was about to throw for a kitty to catch.

“sleeping, mostly,” he shrugs. “how’re the dogs?”

you motion for him to follow and, surprisingly, he does.

immediately, he greets the ones that are up or go up to him with a smile on his face that you’ve never seen.

it shines brighter than the sun and you find yourself smiling as well, seeing him crouch down and pat dogs left and right.

then you get a grip, not for long

it leaves you pleasantly surprised how he follows while you introduce him to every dog, how he listens while you explain why they’re there, their stories, their backgrounds

but then, while you try to get some of the dogs to play with you so he could finish the round of greetings, he reaches the puppies’ enclosure and enters it to sit among them

and while he tries to play catch with a couple, one makes his way into his arms

and when he looks down at the pup, he’s wearing the most adoring expression

like a kid seeing snow for the first time

it’s wondrous and starry and happy

and you’re staring as he softly pats the puppy’s head and coos at it

“what’s his name?”

you almost don’t answer, too focused on the scene unfolding and having trouble locating the information he’s asked for in your brain

“i don’t think he has one,” you mumble, patting baxter’s head

“sleepy,” he looks down at the puppy. “cause he’s asleep while everyone wants to play, you know?”

you just nod with a smile, or at least you hope it is because what the fuck

why are you losing your mind over yeosang cradling a sleeping puppy?

why is your brain recognizing just now that your stomach’s doing cartwheels? why do you want to look away but also keep staring?

“what’s this?” you think he’s speaking to himself, but you still catch the words leaving his mouth as he enquires the toy another puppy has just brought him

then yeosang looks up at you, eyes wide as saucers, and your heart drops for being caught staring

he doesn’t say a thing, but looks down prompting you to do the same

it’s the mistletoe chew toy

yunho’s brilliant idea of getting the dogs christmas themed toys

yeosang looks away throwing it

“yunho,” you start, catching your coworker’s attention. “yunho’s idea, to get them those.”

you offer him a pained smile as he nods, scratching his head.

“seonghwa too, for the cats…”

“ah, really?”

“yeah…”

you want to bash your head into the wall

but the phone saves you, so you dash to the front, escaping the burning flames of awkwardness

it turns out to be a family wanting to adopt as a christmas present for their kids

so you say that yes, you’re open and yes they can come in whenever

when they do, yeosang has re-emerged and stands beside you, silent like always

this time around, though, you fear he’ll hear your heart beating out of your chest at the proximity

why’s he so close?

you almost jump to greet the happy family of four when they walk in to the sound of let it snow coming from the radio

“we were afraid it wasn’t going to stop!” the dad says, brushing off some snow from his hat

turns out they’d like to adopt a dog

it surprises you that yeosang follows when you lead the family in but you try to pay him no mind

the kids seem to be enamored with every dog they see, their parents giving them free reign

they’re still very polite and don’t cause much ruckus or yell too loud, which you’re grateful for

“could you tell us more about him?”

you’re about to turn to answer the question, if it weren’t that yeosang’s already at it

he’s introducing the kids to baxter

“he’s been here for a while, he’s very fond of our y/n and his favorite snack is carrots. he doesn’t like loud noises all that much. his past owners left him here because they could no longer take care of him, but he’s looking to find a new home,” he speaks as if he’s always been taking care of him, like he hadn’t just learned all that stuff half an hour ago

and he has his smile on, the one who could charm and warm up even the coldest of hearts

except one detail

you didn’t notice the little girl facing the puppies enclosure

until you hear her go “that one’s sleeping!”

but you can’t tear your eyes away from yeosang and his can’t help but hear his soft giggle as he says “his name’s sleepy”

yeah you want to punch a wall just about now

though you have to snap out of it quick

because you’re now letting this nice family adopt baxter and can’t fuck up the procedure or hongjoong will have your head

“how’d you know?” you ask, a little melancholic but over the moon to finally see your baxter go to a family worthy of him, as you both watch the car pull out of the parking lot.

“know what?” when yeosang turns to look at you, it’s with a shadow of a smile and curious eyes, an expression you’ve rarely ever seen directed your way

you swallow hard before speaking next

“that baxter’s fond of me”

his eyes light up in recognition

yeosang swore no soul shall ever know of this

but now he feels his resolution coming apart under your waiting eyes

because truth is, he’s noticed

he notices everything about you

from how you walk in dragging your feet when you have an early morning shift, relying on your cup of coffee, to how you laugh loudly at yunho’s jokes, always get your favorite snack from the vending machines at just about the same time he goes to get his melon pan he does wait for you to be done before going up to the machines himself

and how deeply you care for the dogs and how you seem to have a soft spot for baxter

maybe he’s even heard you once or twice rambling on and on to him about how you don’t get why he doesn’t like you

truth is, he sees you, and he likes you

so much

too much

he’s afraid of doing the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and make you hate him

but apparently his plan had backfired immensely

that’s why he insisted hongjoong gave him and not seonghwa the christmas shift

he even baked stupid cookies to give you

“ah, well…” yeosang has no idea how to get out of this one. “you just seemed to like him a lot from the way you spoke about him”

you hum, not really convinced

yeosang notices though, just as he notices the car of the afternoon staff pull in under the snowfall to free you of your volunteering duties

it’s not long before the shift’s over and he’s not going to see you until after the holidays

so, as you part ways to say goodbye to the pets and grab your coats, he musters up some courage

under the snowfall, he calls your name

when you turn around his dark hair is lightly dusted with snowflakes, only making him look more ethereal, and his eyes are determined

you don’t know what’s up with you today and why suddenly he’s making you feel like a teenager dealing with their first crush under his gaze

“yes?”

he comes closer, much more than he’s ever been, so close that you’re frozen on the spot

“just wanted to let you know that you can redeem your mistletoe kiss whenever you want to”

there’s a smugness in his voice, in his pouty smirk and a sense of accomplishment shining clear in his honey eyes

have they always been this mesmerizing?

his words and his warmth leave you breathless for just a beat too long, until your eyes fall on his lips

when you look back into his eyes, his are already looking at you, waiting

“alright,” you mutter lowly, pecking his lips once, testing the waters

he places another peck on your lips and, before you know, you’re kissing him

it feels exhilarating, and soft, so soft, just like his lips. just like the hand that’s come up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer, deepening the kiss.

when you come up for air you giggle, yeosang following suit

“may i also interest you in a coffee?” he asks, hand still on your cheek, gently brushing away snowflakes before they melt. you smile.

“i thought you hated me,” it almost sounds like a question and your brow furrows when he clicks his tongue.

“have you ever heard about the concept of quiet, introverted people who feel highly intimidated by awesome, funny, pretty people?”

you laugh, finally presented with the answer to the question that most replayed in your head

“take me on a date, hilarious, quiet, handsome guy”

he blushes and you know he’ll blame it on the cold, but only brushes his nose against yours

and to think you thought he couldn’t stand you mere hours ago

now he’s here, making your heart melt like snow upon touching his perfect skin

#cromernet #ateez #yeosang #ateez yeosang #yeosang fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #yeosang headcanons #yeosang x gn reader #ateez imagines #kang yeosang #kang yeosang fluff #ateez x gn reader #kpop fic #ateez kang yeosang #kang yeosang x y/n #kang yeosang fanfic #kang yeosang imagines #kang yeosang angst #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang au

[starrysvn]

gRRRAAAHHH CHIPPIE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! this was so so so cute i can’t😭😭 the fake relationship oH i LOVE!! “for courage” boi just say u have a lil crush🤭 and the “is it too soon to say i don’t want this to be fake anymore?” GRAH IT GETS ME EVERY TIME LIKE YEAH COME ON BOI LETS GOOOOOO

thank u thank u thank u, this was lovely. big hugs <333333

Seonghwa headcanons - He needs a partner for the family dinner

Genre: fake dating, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Seonghwa x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of a forced relationship, kissing, time skip, a shitty ex, possible grammar mistakes

a/n: happy belated birthday to my love @starrysvn! i hope you will accept this gift from your secret santa; im sorry it took quite a lot and ik it might be a bit rusty, but i made it with love so i hope you will enjoy it 🤍❄️

☆ To say Seonghwa was stressed was an understatement—the boy was devastated the moment his lover (better said, ex) broke up with him, right before the Christmas dinner they planned with his family. 

☆ There he found himself, trapped in the dirty abyss of overthinking as he tried to find a way to make it through—though it seemed quite impossible. 

☆ All the people who could have possibly helped him have already left to the comfort of their homes, leaving him alone in the campus; or so he thought, before an idea snapped through his pretty head.

☆ He knew from a friend that Y/n was never leaving for Christmas due to how far they lived, so that meant that maybe they were still around the campus; and as bad as he felt for having to ask you this as you didn’t really know lots about each other (you were simple acquaintances due to some common friends you two shared), he decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

☆ He had always admired your beautiful soul and your bright eyes, but his ex didn’t really let him approach you due to the unnecessary possessiveness they felt over Seonghwa (and still, they had the heart to leave him). 

☆ You were throwing a little concert in your room, dancing and singing quite loudly to try and make your holidays a bit more interesting; little did you know they were about to be the most interesting ones in a while. 

☆ You heard a knock on your door, wondering who the person who dared to bother you from your daily routine was—and as soon as you saw a halo of blonde, ravished hair in front of you, you started to get more curious. 

“Seonghwa? Shouldn’t you be home since like—a day ago?” 

☆ The boy shrugged, an innocent, playful smile stretching the corners of his lips, stars beaming at his beautiful, dark eyes. 

“Change of plans? Kind of spontaneous? Are you in for a challenge?” 

☆ His giggles filled the hallway with so much joy, that despite knowing there weren’t people around, you pushed him inside your room like you were scared to get caught in the middle of a dirty act. 

“Did you drink?” 

“Just a shot—for courage, you know.” 

☆ His warm smile flashed before your eyes again, and you were kind of invested in hearing the challenge. 

☆ You had a tiiiiiny, silly crush on him, mayhaps—cause his beautiful smile and warm persona absolutely didn’t go unnoticed by you; though you were still in your denial phase. 

☆ You gesture that he could start telling you his dramatic story, so he began to tell you about the partner who left him brokenhearted right before the holidays, and how he needed someone to go home with, as promised to his parents. 

“Can’t you just tell them the truth? Things would get pretty nasty if they found out you lied to them.”  

☆ Truth is, Seonghwa just wanted to prove himself capable in front of his family for once; he had two months to bring someone home and present them to his family, otherwise they would just throw him in the claws of a person he didn’t know—for business proposals. 

“Please, just consider it. I need you, please. You are my last escape.” 

☆ Maybe considering it didn’t sound too bad, regarding your current situation—you wanted to spice up your own holiday, so would you prefer drinking and staying on your campus, eating ice cream alone for the New Year, or pretending to love a very handsome guy and have a bit of fun? 

☆ The latter surely sounded like the best option. 

☆ As for the acting? You weren’t scared; you were quite sure someone who can’t read through their son’s own needs and preferences won’t be able to see behind your fake heart eyes (maybe they weren’t even that fake, to start with). 

“So, when are we leaving?” 

The tall guy jumped in happiness, giving you a discreet hug before giving you more information as an impulse for you to pack faster. 

☆ His house was as cozy as it could be, the beautiful, warm Christmas lights making you feel all fuzzy inside—you missed your own home. 

☆ His parents seemed like good people (despite trying to set him off with a random someone, claiming it was for his good), and you could see where their son got his genes from; they were absolutely gorgeous. 

☆ You couldn’t help but cringe a bit when his dad took your hand into his and kissed it, happy to finally meet his son’s (fake) partner; yet it all went away when Seonghwa held your other hand comfortingly, giving you the boost of confidence that you needed. 

☆ His mom was looking as if she knew that something was going on, a pretty smile plastered on her face while looking at the two of you. 

☆ The rest of the night went smooth, full of little chatters and chortles as you found them effortlessly funny; but also full of little timid glances shared between you and your fake boyfriend.

“How much time do you think they need until they fall in love completely?” 

☆ His mom asked his father, laughing while watching the two of you sip your hot choccies in front of the fireplace. 

“They will surely realize how real their fake situationship is quickly.”  

☆ His family adored you so much that Seonghwa started to believe his real partner would have messed everything up—so he took having you by his side as a sign. 

“3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!” 

☆ The loud, happy cheers of everyone around you resonated through your ears as the fireworks bloomed into the beautiful night sky. 

☆ You looked in Seonghwa’s direction, just to see him already looking back at you—plump lips slightly parted and eyes focused on your own. 

“Is this the moment where we kiss?” 

☆ He giggled, cupping your face and nodding at your bold words. 

☆ He pressed his soft lips on yours, and you felt like they were made just for you—like Cupid’s final touch to the red string attached to your souls.  

“Is it too soon to say I don’t want this to be fake anymore?” 

“Kiss me one more time and you will find out.” 

☆ Seems like you found your second home, in the arms of the not-so-fake partner of yours.

#hwa’s parents figuring you out LMAO #chef’s kiss i love it when they know #and he pulls up at your door tipsy bOI!! #TIS SERIOUS!! #the red string of fate was too cute i had to yell #thank u chippie <3 #ily <333 #mwah big smooches #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez headcanons #seonghwa headcanons #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff

[starrysvn]

moving day! pray for me y’all it’s gonna be long😵‍💫

#like two planes bitch really?? nowhere closer?? #also why is it 739273927° degrees celsius on this plane someone save me #lheo rants

[starrysvn]

this has to be one of the most wonderful, romantic, introspective fics i have ever read. it left me speechless, i can’t quite come up with the words to say how i felt reading it.

it’s so clear the love that they have for each other transcends the fabric of time and place and forever will. the way mc can’t help but fall, totally on their own, for him got my heart melting. it’s not because of phantom memories or feelings, not yet at least, and what it is for that too, this love just explodes. that one “i miss you” hit square in the chest. hwa has them right there and loves them, but also misses what they once were, the person he’s known and longed for and loved for literal ages i wILL SOB-

The openness with which you had welcomed conversation with him, the kind charm that radiated from you as you engaged in the careful verbal waltz reminded the vampire of times long, long ago when all that existed for him was drive, enamourment and art. Oh, how your eyes glimmered. His heart clenched into near unbearable agony as he read your expressions, and wondered how much you have seen, what have you yet to see, who you were in this temporary life. If only he could ask fate to tell him how much you remembered of who you had been before.

LIKE HELLOOO?????? he- HE!!!!

and the ART!! don’t get me started on it, it’s like it’s theirs. their thing, their red string of fate, the thing that both love and breathe and appreciate, shared but also their own. and let’s not talk about impressionism and art and the pieces that you chose and what they mean also to me bc i will start sobbing. and also i shall not speak of the way you wrote about the pieces and incorporated them into the story and how perfectly it was done. i WILL cry.

Warm-toned streetlights liberally decorated the sidewalks and painted the night in honey, gold and copper accents. Reflections of an artificial summer in the puddles and winter chill. Downright magical. Seonghwa seeked out your hand, holding it tight and guiding it into the pocket of his own coat, smirking when you raised an eyebrow.

i shall not speak of this. or else. oR ELSE!!

bai i truly can’t thank you enough. you are art. you do art. whatever shape it takes, i will always marvel at it. i love you so so much, words can’t say it.

Impressionism

(masterlist) (taglist)

🩸 pairing: vampire!gallerist/collector!seonghwa x art historian!gn!reader 🩸 genre: fluff, noir, soulmates, supernatural, strangers(?) to lovers, art nerding 🩸 summary: a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art? 🩸 wordcount: 12.3k 🩸 warnings/tags: questionable editing, mention of blood, fangs, wounds, suggestive, many pet names (love, darling etc), art theory/history ponderings, time skips, mention of rituals, philosophy, hwa is centuries-old, yearning hwa 🩸 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🩸 a/n: happy birthday to @starrysvn!! lheo, ilysm, and i hope you enjoy this little rambling <3 hugs to everyone, all reblogs, notes and comments appreciated! 🩸 playlist: nfwmb - hozier, who is she? - i monster, keep on loving you - cas, la vie en rose - edith piaf, a l'ombre de nous - pierre barouh, les feuilles mortes / sous le ciel de paris - yves montand, moon over bourbon street / until - sting

‘Love and Pain’ - an enigmatic masterpiece that was painted by Edvard Munch, the famous Norwegian artist, in 1895. In vibrant oil paints a dramatic scene interpreted by millions as something more sensual, darker, revealing was immortalised. Perhaps quite literally. You leaned back on one hand, feeling the coolness of the bench located in the middle of the gallery hall, careful to not let the notebook in your hands slip from your lap. ‘Vampire’ - first, it was a label for the woman with the alluring, long red locks that was leaning over her supposed lover, then it turned into a second name for the work. It was comical how Munch himself had initially stated the piece depicted nothing more than a woman kissing the neck of a man, and yet, the tale had told itself. What followed were six versions of this same subject, with a woodcut titled “Vampyr II”, followed by paintings titled ‘Vampire’ and ‘Vampire in the Forest’, and then through common acceptance that this indeed was the ‘submission of a man to the bite of a vampire’, if you were to paraphrase a critic who had been in an astoundingly similar position as you, except without the decades upon decades of other material to refer to. They had been the firstcomers, the initial perceivers to set the tone for society’s consumption of the artwork, the louder of the many voices in the artwork who often had the final say. In some senses, they were your long lost colleagues - they were there to create history, and you were there to study it.

While it was not exactly a part of the movement you had decided to specialise in, you nonetheless would never reject the opportunity to learn more about the stunning world of visual arts, trying to guess how the artist had felt in the moment, what did they see beyond what they presented to the world, how did they translate the heart into brushstrokes. You were taken by all forms of art since you were little - having grown up surrounded by items that were far removed from what you called your air, you were intrigued by anything that was external to your version of ordinary. In your case, it just so happened to be the little private gallery that you had spent almost all of your monthly allowance to visit when you were a school kid - you had been so dedicated, in fact, that the elderly guard who had often also acted as a guide to the visitors had become your first friend in the art world, something of a grandparent figure, and on multiple occasions - when the lack of eyes would allow, simply let you through with a grin and glance out of the entrance doors.

And so here you were, many years later, many hard decisions and conversations behind you, regarding artworks with an unprecedented soulful closeness that you had initially thought was unattainable. Had you believed all those who remained outside of the walls of your personal paradise, you would have been immersed in the same cycle that had been drilled into the majority of your family members, except maybe a handful who you had never met for the exact reason that they had chosen something for themselves. But you regarded your dream as the thorned path - undoubtedly more challenging, not immediately fruitful, but in the long run leading to the heaven of your design. What more could you ask for?

It was enjoyable to be alone with the paintings surrounding you, portals to new realms that any visitor could have the pleasure of exploring. And what was even more inspiring, was that in the eye of every beholder was a different universe, and no matter who one would speak to, their version of the painting would be different, even if just slightly. You huffed, amused. When was the last time you had visited a gallery with anyone else? You could not quite recall - it was likely that you had never seeked company from another because you were more than satisfied with the company of the legendary works that were regarding you from the many walls. It was possible to compose oneself, spend limitless time on every piece, study the details, and drift into one’s own musings when there was no one to ground them. This was when you dared to say you got your best work done. Even though you, of course, conducted research within university and ventured out to galleries, museums, collectors or auctions only within professional bounds, the bulk of the thinking process was carried out in times such as this. When it was just you, your notebook and pen, and a new point of focus. However, this time, you could not say you were fully attentive to the painting that you had decided to focus on, as a certain someone was appearing to share your level of interest in ‘Love and Pain’ too. 

A gentleman who could not be much older or younger than you, at most a couple of years, stood off to the right of the bench, unmoving, gaze fixated on the painting. Dressed in a pinstripe navy suit, light blue dress shirt, lacquered dress shoes and a matching navy tie, he was nothing short of being a moving work of art. Hints of a glimmer from his thin framed, elegant silver spectacles gave the man a scholarly aura, while the slicked back dark hair - evidently a lot longer than the styling would suggest, added notes of business, entrepreneurship, perhaps leadership. Nothing was out of place, not a crease, not an exposed thread in sight. Needless to say, your curiosity had been sparked.

Much like you found joy in exploring creations in the realm of the visual arts, you were fond of crafting stories about the people who were strangers in passing. You could not help it; perhaps this affinity for creative internal ramblings had come as a package with studying the degree you had selected, or perhaps this was a naturally occurring guilty pleasure that you simply had not had the chance to entertain before you cut yourself off from expectations and predetermined patterns of thought. But now, you had the full pleasure of wondering, letting your mind travel to lands far away as you took the real life masterpiece in, and pondered why the man could be here, what he could be thinking as he studied Munch’s work, and what resonated with him, and only him. 

There was a melancholia with the weight of centuries resting upon his shoulders, that much you could decipher in the stranger’s stance. Even then, there was a gentle burning flame within his heart judging by just how dedicated he was to inspecting the artwork. Like he was seeing an old friend for the first time in years, and was attempting to memorise them anew and recognise each change, bit by bit. You suppressed a chuckle, entertaining the possibility of this man finding a kinship with the painting, but chose to set the idea aside for the time being, instead focusing on sketching his emotional landscape. Was the stranger remorseful? Lonely? Perplexed? You could not quite pinpoint the answer, at least not before you noticed the man’s head starting to turn, and soon enough, his eyes were peering into your own.

They were two pools of deep chocolate, an all-consuming shade that, due to the ever so slightly dimmer lights than in the general halls of the gallery, appeared to be approaching a captivating onyx. The gaze that originated from behind the glasses, and glided across the room that was suddenly too small for two struck you, and you could feel heat starting to rise on your face, blush threatening to reveal the effect of the man’s spontaneous act of confidence. Lowering your head, you gave the stranger a sheepish grin, and pretended to make a random note, pen erratically scribbling over a filled page. He continued to regard you with that same unwavering expression, and only when you looked up again did he seem to catch himself and give you a closed-mouth smile, equally as bashful as yours, and crossed his arms. One step, another, and he was right by the painting, though careful to not obstruct your view - instead, he took his time to read the brief paragraph on the information plaque that had been stuck to the wall off to the side of ‘Love and Pain’. With the same familiarity that is common among those grieving, or in a state of existential sorrow. A bittersweetness prevailed in his aura, one that reminded you of autumn - the falling leaves in red and gold, twirling to join a magnificent carpet, but nonetheless, making a departure, albeit a nearly unnoticeable one. Had he seen many fallen leaves? Was he himself approaching the season? You gasped, but even though the sound was barely audible, you caught the stranger making a minuscule turn in response. 

His footsteps were louder than your thoughts, his departure an irrevocably impactful act that left you breathless. You did not know him, and yet you felt as though you had gotten a glimpse at multiple lifetimes, and were part of a moment that was greater than yourself. In the wordless exchange, question after question had found its root, and something told you that you should not dare attempt to craft him a backstory, and choosing to believe in anything but what would be declared by him would be a gross misinterpretation, much like one that was carried out by those who did not wish to reflect on art and look beyond a first impression. For the first time since you had made your initial discovery of the arts, you felt like you were not alone in the gallery, the other visitor’s presence remained so intense that he could be sat right next to you, scrutinising the same painting, entertaining the same thought. Was the woman with the bright tresses indeed what she had been declared to be over the many years she had been introduced to many venues, many variations of public, and finally finding a home on this wall? Did she settle with her lover, or perhaps a carefully selected victim? Would the man have an answer?

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ . It was unlike you to retrace your steps a mere few days after a visit and return to the same gallery, amble down the same halls, and seek for a new source of investigative inspiration among the same selection. This obviously did not mean that you would never return, definitely not, that would be almost criminal of you to possess such intentions, but you tended to try to cleanse your palate with alternative movements, contemporary takes and avant garde interpretations between searches which were more directly related to your studies. And yet, for the first time in a while, nothing was stopping you from your return. It felt only natural, and so right. Moreover, you felt no unease when you headed straight towards the section that housed the impressionists. An individual with an unspoken, mysterious mission, you were on the hunt for the creative streak, something that would help you ponder the next section of your hefty dissertation, and you could sense that it had to be somewhere here. And, like always, you were right.

‘Bazille’s Studio’, one of the most famous works painted by the so-called ‘tragic artist’ of the impressionists, Frédéric Bazille in 1870. In fact, it had been a collaboration between him and Édouard Manet, another gifted artist, though more renowned as a figure leading modernism, and depicted a scene of discussion and creative collaboration in the studio that Bazille had shared for a certain period of time with other spectacular figures of the visual arts, Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, who could also be found in this painting. On the walls were works rejected by the Salon, which at the time had been the one of the most influential, famous art exhibitions in the Western World, administered by the Académie des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Interestingly, above the piano on the right hung a painting which Bazille had purchased from Monet, potentially hinting at the material ties between them, and the importance the young artist had because of his familial wealth. In a sense, Bazille expressed his support, as well as showed an intimate, platonic scene of the art world where there was a moment of calm, of mutual appreciation, despite the financial troubles and tensions due to character that had been experienced in those walls.

You stepped closer to the painting, trying to detect the transition from Bazille’s to Manet’s hand, the latter of whom painted in the former to take ‘centre stage’, palette in hand. Truly seamless work, though what else could it be? This painting had been a new addition to the permanent collection, and after strenuous, detailed restoration work to give the oil paints their original vibrancy and for impeccable strokes to forget the burden of time, you had the pleasure of seeing it in person. You were an arm’s length away from yet another work essential to history, culture and the arts as a societal colossus.

While it was easy enough to appreciate the technical detail, you found yourself halting to remember the names of all those depicted in the painting, failing to finalise the list in your head. Starting from Bazille, you had determined for yourself the presence of Monet and Manet in his vicinity quickly enough, however where Renoir was, or what were the names of the two other gentlemen in the scene, slipped your mind. You rocked to the side to lean closer to the plaque that was meant to provide you with the information, however you only found the name of the painting, the artist and the medium, much to your misfortune. Clicking your tongue, you returned to studying the faces of each individual, and furrowed your brows in agitated concentration. It was simple to take out your phone and search for the answer, though you knew that just as neutral that action would be, so would be your reaction unless you were to remember, or somebody were to-

A presence to your side caught you off-guard, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. One glance was enough to determine that it was the same man from yesterday, only the outfit revealing a change. Other than that, he had the same impeccable posture and stance, as well as a thoughtful look towards the painting in front of you both. His arms were crossed, though not in a defensive manner; instead they offered an interpretation of philosophy, as though this man was carrying centuries of wisdom with him, history having pummelled down on him and yet needing to support it like Atlas; the titan carrying the world.

Today, he was dressed in a mahogany coloured suit, with a white top underneath and some black boots with thick white rubber soles - quite the transition from last time, when he had been a manifestation of a sleek and pristine office gentleman. Hair, now let down and wavy, neatly framed his face, accentuating the regalness of his features. It was astounding how you were still sure that it would be more likely to find a man of this fashion in a painting, rather than standing beside you. You kept quiet, not wanting to interfere with his musings. Perhaps it was just a silly coincidence that the two of you were at the same place and at the same time again - how else? You did not know him, and you hoped that he did not know you. Though, you truly did not mind his company, and maybe it could serve as your motivation to figure out the rest of the characters in the painting. Once again, your attention returned to the task at hand, but before you could even begin to list off prominent figures of the art world during the era of Impressionism, a deep, honey-like whisper halted you and made you hold your breath. 

“Auguste Renoir is the one seated, Emile Zola, the writer, is on the stairs, Monet, Manet and Bazille are, as you likely know in the centre, and that,” he paused to raise his hand, gesturing in the general direction of the far right of the piece, “is Edmond Maitre. Pianist, art collector, and Bazille’s closest friend.”

“I- uh- thank you. How did you know I was trying to recall? Pardon me, I must look so clueless-” you trailed off, eyes finding the floor, an action which seemed to be your automatic response to being under inspection of the man, though this time, he captured your gaze quickly by stepping closer towards you. Looking up, you found concern and apology in his eyes.

“No! Not at all, I… sorry if I misunderstood and I am sorry for forcing you into such erroneous conclusions,” he gave you an ever so slightly crooked smile, charming, very disarming and so suiting this beautiful stranger, that you were instantly prompted by your instincts to return it, dismissing doubt. 

“You saved me,” you joked, though the phrase contained within itself an unlikely compassion. Two people, alone in the same gallery, sharing a precious dialogue was something to cherish, and with all your might you wanted to make it last.

“Just as you made me regard the painting in a new light, for which I thank you, greatly,” he bowed his head, the smile not leaving his face for a moment. There was a recognition in his gaze, as well as an inexplicable admiration. What did he discover?

“I guess it might be true that no matter how many times you see a painting, every viewing brings something new,”

“Well said. Are you an artist? A critic, perhaps?” He inquired, moving closer to stand level with you, head turned slightly in your direction to spare the occasional glance. You shook your head slowly, wondering if in a retelling of your destiny you could have pursued either of the careers he had mentioned.

“I am in the arts, though rather than looking at the present I remain in the past. Art historian, well, a postgraduate. Nothing too fancy.”

“Oh? But that is marvellous, and what are you focusing on?”

“I like to call it the painting in plenair during the turn of the century. I focus mainly on impressionism, though do sometimes stray into its interplay with post-impressionism, modernism and expressionism.”

“Ah, no wonder I have been seeing you here often. Enjoying the new collection?” he asked, eager to hear your opinion. There was excitement in his voice as though you were a renowned expert and were about to bestow upon him a priceless evaluation. And this was without considering the technicality of you having only half-met. Just crossing paths twice in one week.

"Yes, of course… The collection is unlike any other I have seen. I keep wanting to return and stay here for ages." You explained, glancing at the stranger while he nodded along.

"Incredibly happy to hear it. I swear I have seen you around quite often during the past month that the exhibition has been open? Am I correct?" evidently, your rapid blinking was interpreted rather quickly as perplexion, for the man gasped ever so lightly, as if to catch his own speeding thoughts.

“I- how do you know? I do believe this is our… second time meeting?” you uttered, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, which, to your disbelief, revealed something akin to fear in the beautiful stranger’s features. Nervously, he adjusted a strand of hair that was threatening to cover his right eye.

“Not quite… you were present at the opening event, right?” he quizzed.

“Indeed, my depar- wait. But how? Respectfully, I am starting to think you know me.” you enunciated with newfound caution, while the man pursed his lips. One second, another passed in near total silence, until a chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. It appeared as though he was mentally scolding himself - his eyes held no malice, instead glinting with hope, that melancholic wisdom, and something unidentifiable, ethereal, supernatural.

“I think it is high time I introduce myself before this gets out of hand. See, in some sense I work here, and most of my days are spent in the gallery or labouring for it-”

“Ah, I see-”

“Park Seonghwa, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” with one arm folded behind his back and the other on his chest, he bowed to you like how you imagined princes in the numerous portraits you had studied would bow. And the most enthralling part was how the gesture flowed, and was so befitting. Quickly, you bowed in return, but while raising your head, you froze. It hit you why he would know. And know a lot. And would remember you, and likely anyone and everyone who visited. In a low whisper, you asked:

“Am I… correct in assuming that you are ‘the’ Park Seonghwa?” quickly enough, you realised that it was a mistake to find his eyes again - clearly, you were not ready for the intensity, nor for the intrigue that was contained within them, nor for the fact that he moved another step closer to you, the rubber of his boots dampening any sound produced.

“I never knew that there was a ‘the’ attached to my name. I simply love art.”

“Well that love translated into the creation of what is possibly the greatest gallery in the nation, if not worldwide,”

“Oh you flatter me too much, ah, your name-”

“L/N Y/N, and I, too, love art.”

“Elated to hear it,” he gleamed, and you swore the room exploded with the illumination of a thousand stars.

Stunning, awe-inspiring, ever so elegant. He was a walking dream. In that smile was concealed a certain something that had been taboo, a well-kept secret until a couple of decades ago, when those like Seonghwa had started to be fully integrated into society, and no longer had to hide, changing identity from one century to another. With that came Seonghwa’s success - you had read in an article that advertised the permanent exhibition a short blurb of his story, and how for many turbulent decades, the man single-handedly collected masterpieces, crafted a meticulous network and introduced genius artists to the world, and the world to the artists. The gallery was a magnum opus for Seonghwa - a presentation of what he had achieved as a collector, as a patron of the arts, and a celebration of his personal culture. 

You could not help but hone in on the fangs, and recall the original reason why it was even possible for Seonghwa to obtain such legendary works and have as much influence as he presently did. It was not spontaneous; submerged in turmoil, he had personally approached artists who, previously abandoned by critics and other prospective buyers, had never considered a future beyond a mysterious tomorrow. Hiding his own true nature, he crafted the tale of a ‘Park’ dynasty, and rose again and again to continue his work. Perhaps, now, some might argue that once he had revealed himself as a vampire the velocity of Seonghwa’s developments had fallen, but you would passionately argue the opposite. It was challenging to believe that any move by this stunning artistic mastermind was not strategic - the announcement had given the gallery more partnerships, more donations, and in turn, an even greater prominence in the community both among professionals and enjoyers. 

“Thank you,” the phrase spilled from your lips inadvertently. It seemed to be the only thing that was reasonable to say in that given moment. You pondered the pains that must have been suffered to make the world that you were consumed by come together, and the painting in front of you, aside from what was contained within the frame,now shined in a new light externally too, possessing its own story, resembling a search for a kindred spirit, a true home. 

Seonghwa remained quiet, the words of gratitude echoing in his heart. It was endearing, encouraging to hear such warmth from you. So, you did know him, at least the parts he had shown to the public - as was expected from someone so deeply ingrained in visual arts and history, but he could not help but identify it as something much greater than mere awareness. The openness with which you had welcomed conversation with him, the kind charm that radiated from you as you engaged in the careful verbal waltz reminded the vampire of times long, long ago when all that existed for him was drive, enamourment and art. Oh, how your eyes glimmered. His heart clenched into near unbearable agony as he read your expressions, and wondered how much you have seen, what have you yet to see, who you were in this temporary life. If only he could ask fate to tell him how much you remembered of who you had been before. 

“No, thank you, for giving this,” he gestured to the gallery around him, graceful hand unfurling as though revealing a delicate flower, “meaning, and reason to exist.”

“I highly doubt I am of much significance, Mister Park,” you responded, a soft smile on your face.

“Would anything hold the same meaning if there was no one to behold it?” he responded. You chose not to answer, catching onto the rhetoricism, “and please, call me Seonghwa. I’d like to say we are to be good friends.”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Sitting across from Seonghwa in the cafe that was located on the top floor, above the main halls of the gallery made you feel strangely serene. Today he had foregone the straighter hair styles that you had begun to get used to, surprising you with a head of tousled, almost curled locks that embodied the world’s softness, though remained to be quite the contrast to the more formal and highly fashionable attire that adorned his stature. A suit, tastefully oversized with a buttoned double breasted jacket that was simultaneously serving as a shirt, the plunging v-shaped neckline revealing perfectly smooth skin, and what you noted to be a solitary freckle right in the centre of his collarbone. The trousers, at least from the glimpse that you had allowed yourself when you had met at the entrance to the cafe were of a loose fit, defining his waist at the top and falling to form an almost skirt-like silhouette should he stand how he usually stood: the echoes of what would be called the ‘third position’ in ballet, more relaxed, but still retaining an elegance that only he could carry. The biggest shock to you, however, was Seonghwa’s choice of shoes - a refreshing point to the visual, he had selected to contrast the formalwear with a pair of limited edition, geometrically intriguing Converses. You could catch a glimpse of one of them from over the edge of the table whenever his slightly shaking leg, positioned over the other, would rock forwards just that tiny bit stronger. 

While the setting was meant to be casual, the circumstances in which you found yourself were nothing short of miraculous. Never in a million years would you have imagined for it to be possible to be sat across the table from, quite possibly, one of the most legendary contributors to art restoration, collection and exhibition. On top of that, Seonghwa was a figure who actively bridged the gap between disparate communities, finding a common language, and using the arts as a salvation. You were in awe, and could not hold back on regarding the handsome vampire as he quietly reported your and his orders to the waiter who had floated to your table.

“Are you sure you do not want anything else?”

“Yes, I am sure. I do not wish to exploit your kindness-”

“-Not at all. I hope you do not mind that I… must make a rather unconventional order,” he smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat so as to attempt to hide his doubts, though you were uncertain as to how much of such emotions could possibly be left after what had to have been centuries. 

“An unconventional order is pouring a sugary energy drink into a triple shot espresso and calling it dinner,” you answered, eyes travelling from Seonghwa’s face to the mural on the wall a few tables away that wrapped behind him and to your left, disrupted only by the occasional floor length window that provided city vistas - rather gloomy, compared to the optimistic illumination of the restaurant. Perhaps out of pity, or out of genuine entertainment, Seonghwa chuckled.

“That does sound like an acquired taste, indeed. Thank you,”

“No need. Thank you for inviting me,” you turned back, nodding a polite bow as he softly waved your gesture off.

A silence settled across the table as you waited for your respective drinks. Your hand, had you not consciously restrained yourself, would have probably reached for the phone that you stored in your purse, but now was fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, finding the buttons to stress test the threads that had them sewn tight to the fabric. You were not bored, in fact, far from it. You needed a barrier. The grandeur of this man’s presence was almost overwhelming. He was not a mere individual in a room, he consumed it. Had you just walked in, you were certain that your gaze would still settle on his form. Just like the concrete outside was grey, and the pause retained a divine ambiguity, Seonghwa was unforgettable. In an attempt to calm your clouded thoughts, you studied the mural once more.

“May I inquire into your thoughts on the decor?”

“The choice of ‘A Sunday on La Grande Jatte’ is wise. I am guessing you were the one to make the decision?” you heard an exhale, and once more your attention was captured.

“Alas, I cannot take full accolades for this. This stemmed from a discussion that a good friend of mine and I had one late night. Seurat just so happened to make an appearance amidst the chatter, and so… this was born,” he gestured at the surroundings. Clearly, the interior was picked carefully to fit the theme of the legendary painting. 

From the colours to the textures and the greenery that had been intricately set up across the restaurant, every detail had a meaning and a place, and did not take away from the spaciousness of the hall. It was breathable, while still giving the illusion that you were stepping into a whimsical impressionist paradise. Perhaps that was another reason why you could not quite contain your disbelief firstly in your encounter, secondly in its progression, and thirdly in your interlocutor’s warmth. 

“Spectacular, truly. I have heard you have an eye for detail, however this surpasses all expectations.”

“Oh? There is more you have heard?” he interjected, leaning closer to you and placing an elbow on the table, simply to rest his head on his hand. While this could potentially be seen as slightly unceremonious, it hinted at well-kept confidence, ownership, control. A healthy undercurrent of motivation that came with indirect praise.

“I-oh y-yeah of course,” you did not mean to stutter, but some part of you was grateful you did, for the smirk that had threatened to burst on Seonghwa’s lips was enough for you to feel ignited to elaborate, “if my memory is not failing me, you were the one to distinguish a reproduction of a piece some time ago, no?”

“Ah- yes. That was a Degas reproduction. I must say, the attempt was sincere, however when I saw the-, hm, you will not be startled, will you?”

“Please,” you urged him to continue, intrigued by the story. 

“When I saw the original, as it was being made and when it had been finalised, it would be shameful of me to not spot a fake,” he fell back into his chair, just in time for the drinks to be served. 

A coffee for you, and a non-descript beverage concealed by a semi-opaque, tall glass for him. Though, you did not need to be a detective to guess what it was that Seonghwa was bringing to his lips, and what he took a tentative sip of. The only mystery that was remaining for you was what ‘type’ he had picked - was it O+? B-? Whatever else? You joined him in the tasting, lifting the mug and indulging in the wonderful aroma of your americano. It did not strike you as necessary to opt for something fancier and lie to yourself - so you settled for your regular order, much to your joy. Familiar taste and the reliability of the caffeine hitting your system painted the scene in more comforting colours, and gradually, you found yourself easing into the dialogue more and more, until life stories, musings and a surprisingly large common ground came pouring. 

You discovered that Seonghwa possessed a unique sensitivity and attunement to those around him. Focused on the emotional experiences, he felt through time and could recount emotions like the memory was from a mere few days, rather than decades ago. He was well-spoken, eloquent, intelligent, polite in every right as he navigated through the linguistic landscape and guided you like a partner in a dance. You were spiralling oh so quickly, intrigue catching up to you and prompting you to sacrifice all of your senses to the man and the pleasantly intoxicating atmosphere he captured you in. He was enchanting, and it was far too easy to give in. 

“May I reveal something?” in a hushed tone, he inquired, a finger absent-mindedly tracing the rim of his glass. 

“Oh, a little secret?” you raised your eyebrows in jest, lightening the initial seriousness with which Seonghwa uttered the question.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Depends on how you take it. A confession might be more accurate,” he waited for you to take the final sip of your coffee before continuing, unphased by your unwavering focus, “if I were to be honest, I have been meaning to approach you.”

“Pardon?”

“As you know we have a… common awareness of each other thanks to what is housed under this roof, but ever since we first unknowingly crossed paths… I wanted to speak to you.”

Confused, you did not speak, though the words contained an unparalleled affection within them. What could he possibly mean? You chose to refrain from commenting, your hesitation prompting the vampire to continue.

“Do you remember the most recent opening night? Of the exhibition? I believe you were with someone…” he trailed off, hoping you would continue for him.

“Ah, yes, a friend of mine from university. So?”

“This might sound strange but, I distinctly remember you mentioning a name. An artist from the same era, dubbed as L/N Y/N?”

“Goodness, you overheard that? I am so sorry, it is just that said artist has intrigued me for some time, and I was half-hoping to encounter their work. Maybe it is because our names are the same but still….”

“Elusive, aren’t they?”

“To put it softly, yes. I only vaguely recall seeing… maybe one piece in my lifetime, when I was little, and then… nothing. And there is barely any information on the artist online, let alone libraries and archives.”

“Hm, indeed. I guess that makes two of us…”

“Two of us who are searching?”

“That’s right. It brought me happiness to know that I am not alone in this endeavour.”

“Then we can keep searching together.”

While you were positive that you could not conceal your interest, Seonghwa’s did not go unnoticed either. It was of course possible that he was simply well-versed in political correctness, but the burning depth of his pupils told you otherwise. Enthrallment, the discovery of a kindred spirit, recognition, the rekindling of a bond that had existed at some point long ago - all fantasies that played out in your mind as you returned that look with subtle fervour. You wondered how many people he graced with those charms. How many had succumbed to his influence, becoming a marker on his infinite life path, a fleeting second? How many had his lips known, how many had turned into a decadent treat for a genius man with natural peculiarities? While the researcher part of you was perplexed and aching for answers, the you that was caught in the moment simply let it go on, and the feeling of Seonghwa’s leg brushing against yours, and the pride blooming in your chest as he praised the few articles and papers you had published upon having claimed that he ‘knew some things about you too’ preoccupied you in the most magnificent way.

Naturally, you agreed to meet Seonghwa again. On your journey home, in the privacy of the anonymous metro, immersed in the cacophony of deafening rails and the millions travelling to anywhere, you pressed your phone to your racing heart as the vampire, the man, the beguiling Park Seonghwa sent you a message confirming so. Who knew a simple selection of words could be so captivating?

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Under the comforting thrum of raindrops on the large umbrella, you walked down the streets of the grey-coloured city, your hand lightly holding onto Seonghwa’s arm while he ensured that both of you were protected from the elements. Despite the dull light and bitterness of the cooling season, Seonghwa appeared radiant, truly timeless with every gesture and stride. The elegant angles of his face that you could tirelessly study stood out against the monotone buildings and overcast skies. His voice drowned out the sound of droplets racing one another to the ground. A miraculous gentleman who appeared in your life much like a portrait, or a landscape - a masterpiece you wanted to explore in every spare moment, and better yet, this masterpiece was equally as open to you as you were to him. 

“...essentially, yes. It is like another nationality. A marker of species isn’t too far isn’t it? Just another line on a stack of documents. Nothing more,” Seonghwa concluded his explanation, pursing his lips for a moment before letting an exhale turned dragon’s breath escape into the afternoon.

“Makes sense. So would that mean there are separate medical papers and treatment too?”

“Well… when regeneration fails us or when a given case is severe enough… yes. Though it is handled by private clinics run by other vampires.”

“There are private clinics?”

“Of course. Often they are connected to donation points too, and that is how we remain on the right side of the law and stay alive,” he nodded to himself, giving you a bittersweet smile when he noticed confusion overtake your gaze. “Blood,” he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “I mean blood.”

In a nervous stupor, you cleared your throat and focused on a droplet that was hanging onto the edge of the umbrella, right in front of you, all the way until the gentle motion of Seonghwa’s amble provoked its abrupt descent onto the stone under your feet. 

“Ah, yes, I see-”

“If you find this disturbing, we can forget the conversation ever-”

“-I want to know you better, Seonghwa, truly-”

“Careful-”

“Sorry wha-” 

With an extraordinary swiftness, you were tugged abruptly by the arm. Not registering your surroundings, you merely went with the inertia, caught off-guard by the proximity of your face to the vampire’s as he held you against him with the arm that you had previously been resting your own on. A hand that you raised on instinct went limp and landed on Seonghwa’s chest, feeling the thick felted wool of his coat. The ringing of a bell, going farther away from you by the second, incessant but at least waking you up from the blur, was enough for you to put two and two together - a cyclist who thought they owned every part of the street, like always. You sighed.

“Reckless… my apologies I did not mean to-” Seonghwa tried to detangle himself, refusing to remain in your personal space for longer than necessary no matter how much he did want to, but his efforts were reduced to nothing when your hand moved to a hold on his upper arm - reassuring, comfortable, accepting.

“Thank you,” you interrupted, “that bike would have definitely run into me…”

“It’s nothing,” a low chuckle echoed in your ears as Seonghwa peered into your pupils, confidence that had previously wavered out of habitual caution now restored, growing into a pride as you continued to hold onto him, “the man was slow enough for there to be no risk of harm. I hope you are not too startled though.”

“Oh? You have super powers too? Do elaborate,” you jested, resuming your walk.

“I would call it more like… being a finely tuned machine. Can’t say I have bad reaction speed. Though I must say, it was a little challenging pulling you out of the way,” there was an evident intent behind the words. However, you were too curious to pay it any mind, instead preferring to find out their meaning live.

“How so?”

“I think this,” dropping his arm, Seonghwa’s hand reached for yours, and without a moment of hesitation, his fingers were intertwining with yours, his palm pressed against yours, “would be better. You know, for safety.” As if you could ever reject him. This was a fact you had established for yourself with an unprecedented certainty. His gallant disposition, attentiveness all confirmed a care for you that was impossible to ignore. 

There was something picturesque about the present after meeting this wonderful, infinite pool of art and humanity. You found yourself leafing through articles, art books and biographies with a more wistful and sentimental perspective, imagining what it would be like if it were you who was immortalised in the thousands of brushstrokes, or if you were on the other side of the canvas, how would you go about depicting the scenes unfolding before your very eyes. Timelessness - a quality shared between the art you so adored, and the man you had encountered and over the weeks, let your intrigue be transformed into a shy flame of infatuation. Perhaps it was the underlying reason why you did not reject his advances, nor cower in fear of his true nature with which he was upfront. The other, of course, was the search for the mysterious artist, an adventure that fuelled many of your dialogues, and prompted you to spend more time in the library and the archives of your university than you had ever done before - to the point where Seonghwa himself had encouraged you to take a break from your intellectual expeditions and step into the world as a casual observer. So, you let yourself drift; it finally hit you, what scenes your once again tranquil stroll reminded you of, and you smiled to yourself as you recalled the intricacies of the not quite commonly discussed representation of the Impressionist movement. 

‘Rue de Paris, temps de pluie’, painted by Gustave Caillebotte; his most famous work. Not quite as widely discussed, despite still technically being created in the Impressionist era, perhaps due to the meandering through form, realism and reliance on stronger lines rather than broad brushstrokes and the study of light. You did find it fascinating how Caillebotte’s passion for photography had seeped into this piece, however. Much like how, in recent days, you could easily find a way to mention Seonghwa in conversation, be it related to the arts or not. From the subjects in the foreground being slightly out of focus while the middle ground was crystal clear, to how the shapes of some passersby were cropped were all characteristic of photos, rather than paintings, making this particular work all the more dear to you. It was a reflection of life, of behaviour and of what had been daily back in the late nineteenth century.

Was it any different from now, aside from those grand, global topics that historians dedicated their lives to studying? If one were to whittle down to the intricacies, the miniatures that ornamented the span of a human existence, was it so terribly far away from what you were born into, and Seonghwa saw develop and had adopted? How people shielded themselves from the rain with umbrellas, and then used them as a tool to isolate themselves from other urbanites who were in a rush to take a day-long route out of their homes… and back again. The latest silhouettes of dress and accessory; the same rush to be with the times as now.

You felt your companion’s arm move, prompting you to let go and leave your hand hovering as though you were awaiting some kind of change. You bit back an unprecedented sliver of disappointment, only to be caught by surprise once again as you felt the hand settle on the small of your back. Cautious, like you were going to melt from any more pressure than the brush of a feather. A quick glance was enough to determine that you were being studied intently for any sign of discomfort - Seonghwa was ready to pull away at any moment, any sigh, and most definitely at any word. A meek smile settled on your lips, and you shyly used an oncoming stranger as an opportunity to affirm the gesture, stepping towards the vampire, and sensing the confidence of his protective measure be solidified. With glee he followed your every tilt and turn, angling away from the passing form that neither of you could focus on. The touch was electric, somehow monumental despite being so common and barely present. Your mind was on fire, pondering what it would be like to put your head on the elegant man’s shoulder, and let yourself be carried away into a terrific fairy tale.

“This really is a rainy day,”

“Seems quite sunny to me,” you respond with sarcasm, realising only after the fact that your phrase still did retain an element of truth within it. 

Sunshine did not have to be literal. It was easy to see, you just needed to return Seonghwa’s gaze, and watch as another spring flower blossomed in the soul of one you had initially assumed to be so cold, so distant. In the darkest winter was a safe haven that you could not help but lean into, and regardless of what you had initially thought, with him, you felt more human, more safe and alive than ever. He listened without fail to your ramblings, and could easily pick up the ball and balance it with his own musings that you could listen to for many lifetimes.

Lifetimes; immortality, the one concept you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Well, the latter was technically not true, as Seonghwa had elaborated some few days ago: vampires did age, albeit at such a slow pace that to the run of the mill human being, it was impossible to notice, and if they did, it would be someone very close, and only over a matter of decades. Maybe it was this exact inability that made you want to stay and learn all there could be about the gallerist - you thought that would make you feel like you have been living forever. His wisdom was beautiful. The kindness with which he treated you, akin to that of how a spouse treats their long-time sweetheart with a mellow and comfortable affection, was not something you asked for nor expected, but something which he introduced himself with through every action, progressively more amiable when you allowed him to advance.

“Mm, no wonder I can’t quite look at you,” he mused out loud, dramatically looking off into the distance. You raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going to come after his theatrical pause, “your brightness is unparalleled,” Seonghwa chuckled, satisfied with your sigh and the way in which you pretended to be annoyed, only to dissolve in a mute giggle. “So, I do suggest we get out of the rain for a moment and stop by that book shop over there, shall we?”

Following his hand, you spotted an antique bookshop a few doors down, marked by an iron sign and ornate shop window decorations that glistened with each hit of the dancing droplets. A warm golden light emanated from the inside, the hue comparable to a summer’s day. An odd feeling of deja vu washed over you, as though you had been in this store before, even though this was quite the distance away from your home, not on any of your usual commutes and in a part of town you barely visited aside from the occasional brisk walk. It had been established over a century ago, sporting a historical plaque and detailing original to the era the date on the sign suggested. Suppressing your internal monologue, you simply nodded, fond of Seonghwa’s excitement as he pushed lightly against your back and walked on ahead. If you were any more of a romantic, you would have assumed that the shop was a representation of his heart, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think that way, at least not when you felt heat rise to your cheeks as he whispered your name, openly planning what you could look for amidst the rare editions together. You and him turned into a ‘we’ so naturally, you barely had time to blink. A new brushstroke on a canvas, brave, bold and bright. Impressionist.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

The hypnotising improvisation on a semi-acoustic guitar, followed by a launch back into the theme of a well-known jazz song had you tapping on the counter, unknowingly following every drum beat. The bar turned cosy music venue that Seonghwa had invited you out to was proving to be every bit a wonder of the world, and paradise inside of the otherwise gloomy city which had been plagued with miserable weather and lack of daylight for atrociously long. The classy establishment was a well known favourite among the vampires residing in the city, especially those aligned with a more bohemian and art-focused lifestyle. Critics, painters, collectors, musicians, poets alike all gathered to share ideas and energy, and reminisce days long gone, while the band - one that had not changed since the bar’s establishment, revived legendary pieces one after another. 

With ease, Seonghwa had ordered your favourite drink, having memorised it after your many outings that had smoothly transitioned into dates and shared nights. He remembered every detail about you, holding each one tenderness. Your lover gazed at you as he ended a conversation with a fellow collector who had recently come to town for a few days, stretching out his hand until it just touched yours, guiding it to lie flat on the counter. Seonghwa’s palm, still retaining a pleasant coolness despite him having had a couple of drinks of his own, was another reassurance that in the buzz of the venue, you still had your person by your side. Feeling his digits tap and then proceed to brush the back of your hand, you hummed in contentment, and let your eyes travel over the beautiful vampire, who leaned back, tempting you just for fun, knowing full well that you were wholly his, and even when you turned to look elsewhere, it was his face you saw in the crowd, it was his voice that rang in your ears, it was his touch that ghosted over your skin. 

The bustier from Alexander McQueen, the gorgeous flowy shirt with ruffles and cuts so tastefully sewn and executed, the statement necklace that was worthy of being displayed at a gallery and must be the envy of many, the high heeled boots that were concealed by elegant trousers - Seonghwa was your favourite work of art, and you could never deny it. Each one of his gestures was worthy of marvel, and the care with which he approached everything - even the tending to the items which he painstakingly selected and matched for tonight made your heart skip a beat. It was boggling how each garment and accessory was either an original, or a one of a kind piece. But at the same time, you did not expect anything less of Seonghwa.

He must be impossible to depict in paintings, you concluded, shamelessly staring at your lover’s face, from the shape of his nose, to the plushness of his lips, to the waviness of his night-like inky locks. You bet many had tried, but judging by the lacking evidence in the art world, they must have failed, miserably, to create something more immortal and invincible than the model and muse. You understood them, and Seonghwa gave no signs of being perturbed. 

“So, was that the intent behind our spontaneous trip to this bar tonight?” you gestured at your surroundings, taking another sip from your ornate glass. A sharp exhale accompanied a contrasting soft answer:

“Not at all,I had the business sorted a couple of days ago, and tonight was a lucky crossing of paths to secure the deal,” cryptic as ever, Seonghwa only alluded to the matter at hand.

The matter, or how he had referred to it as ‘business’ was a particular artwork that he had been hunting, by the elusive artist you had been investigating, first in your lonesome, and then joining forces with Seonghwa. Apparently, one of the pieces, by some stroke of unimaginable luck, had been kept safe in the private collection of a ‘Mister Kim’, at least that was how he had been initially introduced to you. Until you put two and two together, and when the very well dressed and styled character had entered the bar and made a beeline towards your partner in artistic musings and romance, recognised the man as a world-famous designer and fashion icon, Kim Hongjoong. And of course, another vampire and kind soul in one. 

Their conversation had happened outside of your earshot; whether it was on purpose or just so happened to unfold that way was for your ruminations to determine, but you did overhear enough to figure out that this was a portrait, a never seen work, and was completed by the artist who as it had turned out had been closer with Seonghwa than you had initially thought. 

“Seems to be very important, and not just in a ‘collector’ sense…” you trailed off, watching as the ice in your drink cracked, “is this why you were interested, you know, back then?”

“If I were to be honest, darling, I was, and still am, a lot more interested in you. The artist was something of an excuse to get a conversation going. And I do hope,” Seonghwa turned and sauntered towards you, “this conversation does not end.” 

Even though you were sitting on one of the bar stools, the heels and stance still left him some room to look downwards, and his sultry expression, orbs glinting at you through dark lashes left you transfixed. In moments such as this, you hated to be mortal. There were so many things that you could not possibly know, and no matter how hard you would try to comprehend the vastness of the angelic man’s mind, you would always remain theoretical, and accept the grand majority of intricacies as axiom.

“I hope so too,” your voice barely rose above a whisper as his gloved hand landed on your neck, gliding upwards to caress your jawline.

“I’m so glad I found you,” his thoughts were elsewhere, you were sure of it, and yet, his gaze remained unwavering, “my eternal love”. Lips stained with bittersweet worship, the words stumbled from them to strike you repeatedly in the heart, forcing it to lose its rhythm. He was regarding you like he had stumbled upon a priceless treasure, a divinity, a paradise. Something far from you and from this planet, but by Seonghwa’s careful selection, etched in your features.

Were you the embodiment of something greater for him? You would not consider yourself to be a model example of a human being, neither were you a pretty statue to display in an exhibition. You were you, but Seonghwa kept on convincing you that it was exactly this that had captivated him and showed him a new beginning. Did you wish to believe that? Of course. But a vampire who was hundreds of years old could keep a grand variety of secrets beyond your understanding, even if he were to exclaim them right in front of you and sketch them out. His eternal love - your version of eternity, or his? A life the duration of a butterfly’s abstract dance to the heavens.

“Love?” he called out to you, eyebrows knitted in concern due to your prolonged silence. You had set your drink down, and were staring at the shine of the glossy chrome silver and pearl on Seonghwa’s necklace. “Talk to me, say anything.”

“I- hm. I think I am just tired. Yeah, that must be it. Tired so I am overthinking, no worries. I’ll just be right here and-”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you tilted your head, noting how Seonghwa immediately straightened out, and instead of attempting to tower over you stepped over to the side to set a protective hand over yours.

“This is a majority vampire bar, full of unfamiliar individuals, this whole deal with the artwork is up in the air and-”

“First of all, I don’t care. Second, you are here with me. And third, I want to trust in the fact that you would not do anything foolish nor harmful. Am I right in my evaluation?” you uttered, still not quite able to look into Seonghwa’s infinite pools of brilliant sienna and dark brown.

“I- I am honoured, but that still does not detract from the fact that we can go get some air and come back. Shall we?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to. Hell, need to. Let us have a quick wander?”

“...I’d like that.”

In no time, the winter air hit your cheeks and you were wrapping yourself as tightly as you could in your oversized coat. In your ears the pleasant sound of the vampire’s heels rang out, echoed by the stunning road onto which you were spat out by the heavy black front door of the bar. Warm-toned streetlights liberally decorated the sidewalks and painted the night in honey, gold and copper accents. Reflections of an artificial summer in the puddles and winter chill. Downright magical. Seonghwa seeked out your hand, holding it tight and guiding it into the pocket of his own coat, smirking when you raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“Nothing at all.”

You were certain that you were walking through a landscape painting, every element captured by your vision falling into its rightful place, harmonising with the rest. The mumbling and music was long gone, only to be replaced by conversation of other late city explorers and the occasional rumbling of a car lazily rolling past. 

“Pissarro.”

“Hm?” Seonghwa kept looking ahead, but squeezed your hand to ask for you to continue.

“Boulevard Montmartre at Night. Painted in 1897, no?” you pointed at the surroundings with a tilt of the chin.

“Ah, indeed! Your perceptiveness never ceases to amaze me.”

“Well, thanks to you I got to see the original, so how could I not make the visual analogy?” you nudged his shoulder, earning a chuckle.

The painting was the only example of a landscape at night from the artist Camille Pissarro, making it all the more special despite it being part of a series of 14 views of the same location. Snow, rain, fog, morning, varying seasons, but only one glimmering night. It was one of the works that Seonghwa had managed to provide for your studies, resulting in a more than impressive academic outcome. Like Pissarro kept on painting the vista, your lover kept on giving, never asking for anything more than for you to share your hours with him, something you did not need to be prompted to do anyways.

“...I’m sorry I cannot reveal more than I do, at least not just yet,” he apologised, as though what he was committing was the greatest crime known to humanity and the supernatural.

As you looked up at the starry night sky, you swore you had heard these words before, uttered by the same voice, the same fingers interlocked with yours. A stabbing sensation in your cranium made you gasp, but you regained your composure quickly enough to not make it a priority for either of you. At the same time, Seonghwa’s expression altered to a semblance of… hope? Longing? You could not pinpoint it, but one of the many glowing dots above you clearly landed in his shining orbs, and he eagerly waited.

Waited for longer than you could realise in your present state.

On their own accord, your lips moved, forcing out a subconscious acknowledgement, previously suppressed. You swore the phrase belonged to another being, but it was as refreshing as the breeze tousling Seonghwa’s locks.

“I know. I can wait too.”

“Soon, my love.”

“I-I know.”

“I miss you.”

“I-” vision growing hazy, you reached to the vampire for support, which he readily provided, “I- too.”

One blink - oil paints decorated your hands, and those alluring eyes were staring back at you from a canvas. Another blink - Seonghwa was repeating your name, pressing his cheek against yours as he shielded you from falling into darkness with his strong arms.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Your office was inviting and offered a secure haven: a collection of neutral and wooden tones, with dashes of greenery to relax the eyes. From a potted ivy plant settled on the top of a large wall-length shelving unit to an indoor palm tree enjoying the rays in its designated corner, the room was a miniature paradise. You ran your hands over the thick birch desk, cautiously avoiding the stack of documents you had arranged for yourself to go through this day. Artwork restoration reports, contracts, exhibition plans for years to come… everything you thought you would never see, and yet it was right here in your palms.

Time moved slower, or at least that was how you began to perceive it now that it was in abundance. A fountain that did not cease to bestow gifts upon you - again, something you would have never imagined prior to the curious series of events that were your previous life unfolding the way they did. One fateful meeting, and you were a changed person, staring into the horizon and labelling it as a continuation rather than as a termination of all you could achieve. The world was your oyster, and loving dedication was the price. But when the price was so sweet, and so easy, who were you to say no? If you had to pick a concern, it would be the bandages and binding on your right arm; friction from the sleeve of the turtleneck and blazer you had worn today applying uncomfortable pressure to the delicate wound concealed within. 

You stood up from the leatherbound office chair, adjusting your clothes and stepping to the window behind you to look out at the garden belonging to the gallery - a recent expansion. Grand, regal, and as the papers had emphasised, now returned to its rightful owner. You wondered just how much of the city had belonged to vampires at least for a portion of time, and you had no doubt that you would be making more discoveries soon, but for the time being, you were happy with the re-acquisition, or as Seonghwa had called it: your ‘turning’ gift. A particularly strong shift of the arm made you wince, and your other hand shot to nurse your sore arm.

“I’m so sorry darling, does it still hurt?” Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had slipped into the office, and immediately rushed towards you, concern painting his beautiful face through furrowed brows and a tiny scowl.

“N-no, barely. The sweater is silly-”

“Let’s not disregard ailments, shall we?” your partner gingerly lifted your arm, and after gaining permission through a few lethargic nods, pushed the sleeve upwards to reveal the bandages, “I- really, we need to apply the ointment again, that must be it-”

“Seonghwa-”

“Work can wait, I just need to-”

“My love-” Seonghwa paused his ramblings to stare back at you, puzzled, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Literally just a bite, isn’t it?” you smiled, the action instantly being mirrored, albeit with a tinge of remaining worry.

“Mm, perhaps I am overreacting, I can’t help it,” your thoughts were numbed by the silken touch of his lips on the back of your hand, wool against cotton as he pulled you into an embrace, “it should heal well once you get used to your new form, I am sure of it,” his tresses tickled your nose, but you ignored it, instead letting your head fall against him.

You stood almost completely still aside from the rocking side to side that was habitual for you both. A lulling motion, one that either of you revealed only to each other. A secret reserved for intimate, loving moments such as this. You shook your head in amusement and buried your nose in Seonghwa’s sweater, inhaling the aroma of his sweet perfume, recalling ‘Love and Pain’ - the painting that had marked the tightening of the invisible string tying you together. Or was it? Coincidentally, on the wall behind your lover was the real inception of your union, one that you had forgotten from one lifetime to the next. A portrait. The one that Seonghwa had been chasing, and what had been his decades-long mission came to an end.

Signed with your own hand, were initials of your name and the year of completion of the painting. None other than the beloved collector and muse, Park Seonghwa, who had posed for you, or rather a version of you, and ever since then, you were the only one on his mind. You had been the master both of the arts and of his fate.

“Please, I am embarrassed…” your partner mumbled, settling for futile attempts to position you in such a way that you would be looking out at the garden, but to no avail. Poking him playfully at the side, you induce a halt, and question him:

“What is there to be embarrassed about? That’s you. Painted by me.”

“Exactly. And you have it in your office, of all places.”

“Well I can’t exactly have you, in the flesh, on display all the time and I would like a work of art around here-”

“Shh-”

“Don’t shush me, Park. Be grateful I don’t keep the sketches out too.”

In all honesty, He would not mind if you did. You could do anything, and the vampire would adore and honour it. Whether it was in your blood or in his nature, he had never regretted almost losing himself in your favour. In your last life, he had gone against all rules set up by vampires, playing against what he swore was the devil in order to have the sliver of a chance to start again and, this time not lose you. Had his plan not succeeded, it was highly probable that he would have been erased from this planet too. But he would rather call himself a masochist than be law-abiding when it came to you.

“Next, you’ll be threatening me with a showcase of just my face-”

“What if I do?” you quipped, pulling back to boop his nose with yours, “I think it would look very pretty. Besides, now that I remember my apparent mastery of the visual arts, can’t I be a tiny bit proud, hm?”

“I would be terribly disappointed if you weren’t. Now, may I put that ointment on you?”

As if you could refuse those sparkling eyes. Promptly following him to the loveseat, which unfortunately for Seonghwa was situated right under the portrait, you sat down and waited. Your partner rushed to the medical cupboard - another new addition installed exclusively to support you as you were getting used to the vampiric nuances in your day to day. With well-practised motions, the required kit was in his hands, and in a blink, set down on the plush cushioning of the miniature sofa. You held back a chuckle as you saw the pout you so loved appear as he focused on unwinding the bandage with utmost care. Before you could feel any hurt, Seonghwa would already let go, or alter the angle at which he was tugging on the material. As soon as the plaster was peeled, you were met with the reason for your eternity and reawakening.

Two deep punctures, still a little irritated, not quite healed, but nevertheless a marking of your future and something you regarded with fondness. Wounds did not hurt when they were merely physical, especially not when you had someone who had bound their immortality to yours to tend to them. Seonghwa bit his lower lip, discontented with the ache as though he could feel it too, and took numerous pauses while cleaning up the wound to glance at you. 

“I’ll be applying the ointment now, tell me if it stings, okay?”

“Okay,” you knew it wouldn’t. You had never heard a man be so adamant on checking ingredients at an apothecary before following Seonghwa after your first appointment as a vampire. But just to appease him, you followed this small spoken routine. 

“You know… I was scared,” his voice was barely audible, and he could not look at you.

“What were you scared of?”

“Losing you again.”

“Well, I am here, aren’t I?”

Even before you were aware of Seonghwa, let alone the truth behind the portrait, all the roads still led to the same resolution. The arts, art history. Virtually synonymous, for without creation, there would not be the past, and without the study of the past, there would not be the celebration and respect of creation. Finally, you understood the beauty of evolution that Seonghwa had undergone all while remaining the same vulnerable yet legendary figure, dedicated to his vision of the arts, having recollected your own. 

“So many things could have gone wrong,” Seonghwa’s mind was reeling from the sheer terror of possibility. He had taken advantage of his high social standing as an aristocrat and pulled rank to avoid waiting for any ritual guides to step in - it was not the first time, but still only the second. And both cases were related to you. 

The first time might have been a foolish decision in retrospect, but considering the dire circumstances the extreme solution was the only one. With one foot crossing to the afterlife he was combatting the reapers, and was not going to let go of you even if it meant being pulled in. This time, when you had approached him a number of nights ago with your final agreement to his tentative proposal and kissed his ruminations away, he was ready. Years of study were not going to waste, after all. And yet when he studied the same irises as those from a time long gone, when he held the same hands, his blood ran even colder. What a gambling man he had been back then. The procedure to regift life to you had been risky, and Seonghwa, having never practised those elements of the dark arts bestowed upon his kind, had been taking shot after shot in the dark. How dare he play with your being like that? How dare he hold your existence on a sinful scale?

“But they didn’t.”

No they did not. Your confidence in him had aided considerably, he had to admit. The positioning of his fangs was perfect, and he had memorised all incantations down to the inflections. Second time a charm, but much more anxiety-inducing. Turning was not the same as revival, either. He could not stop himself from imagining the many scenarios of where he would have gone wrong, and cemented your identity only as a name on manuscripts, dissertation, paintings and reports. 

“Even the ritual, what if you did not remember-”

“I would love you just the same. Whether I had all my memories or not. That much I can assure you of. That is why I trusted you in the first place, Seonghwa.”

You did not need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. All you could do was suggest a brighter palette, and be by his side no matter what colour scheme he were to decide on. It was an artist’s duty to know when to set the tools aside and consider a painting finished. The luxury of a collector was to live through many paintings, unify the souls contained in each and sustain a chronology of expression. The keepers, the scholars, made to observe change rather than induce it directly. This was why you were all the more grateful for Seonghwa daring to change your mortal fate not once but twice, risking himself and his image in your favour.

When your partner was satisfied with his medical care, he hummed to notify you and began to clear up, at least until you placed a weak hand on his leather-clad thigh to gain his full attention. He searched for a hint in your features, eyes darting across your face at lightning speed. Relief came when you grinned brightly, whispering sincere gratitude.

Impressionism - the movement and path made by legends. A rejection of traditional practice, a new vision and interpretation of the outside world in the hues of the soul. Light, reality, immediate action. A breath that reset the arts, magnificent and radical for the time, and now, much adored. From its conception to its establishment, you were there to witness and fall in love, and now could look back at the beauty that had bloomed. His irises, your favourite colour. The speckles of various shades, your favourite details. You stared into Seonghwa’s eyes and did not dare blink. Your favourite impression.

🩸 perma-taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy

#anD THE MUSIC????? #THE MUSIC!!!!! #the playlist was pERFECT! #the fits. #the hwa fits. #the most ICONIC hwa fits i yelled yodeled so SO much you’re incredible. #rue de paris temps de pluie mY HEART. MY ABSOLUTE POOR HEART I LOVE U #I LOVE THAT PAINTING #i’m screaming #like legit all throughout yelled a lot #my pillow was tired of it #and of the sobbing #i love you so so much #thank you <333333 #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you #park seonghwa x you

[starrysvn]

lonely birthday | jung wooyoung

pairing: wooyoung x gn!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, not proofread!

masterlist

this is all cause i hate lonely birthdays (gif credits: @/mir_xxx on weheartit)

Squeezing the empty beer can in your hand, before letting it fall all crumpled in the bin, you defeatedly plopped down on the lonely chair at your dining table. On it rested a single chocolate chip muffin – its Starbuck’s paper bag acting as a tablecloth – crookedly stabbed with a single blue sparkly birthday candle.

“Absolutely fucking pathetic” you murmured as you lifted your hand to light it with your black lighter.

It had been a while since you last believed in birthday wishes, but the realization of having hit rock bottom made you act a little foolish from time to time. You squeezed your eyes real tight – like you used to do as a kid, convinced it would somehow help the process of making the wish come true – and felt a stray tear make its way down your cheek. You sniffled, barely caring anymore, and blew out the candle. As you opened your eyes and saw the smoke make its way up, you almost laughed. Birthday wishes never came true. You hated birthdays.

You slumped in your chair, staring straight at the wall in front of you, and started to think when life had become so dull. Trying to pinpoint the moment when college had started to feel like a job and your job a nuisance. When, suddenly, the realization of being an adult had somehow colored grey your youth: it wasn’t like you didn’t have friends or things to do to fill up your free time, but somehow the weight of responsibilities had become ten times harder to hold up. Someway, all you could manage to focus on was duty and not what made you happy. And the saddest thing was that you knew exactly how it happened but didn’t know how to fix it.

You grimly chuckled, taking a bite out of the muffin. Growing up really fucking sucked.

“You’ll be sulky and mad all day if you spend today alone. You’ll think that nobody cares about you when really, it was you who didn’t want anyone around”

His words echoed in your head as the clock struck one minute after midnight and you stood up to throw the paper Starbuck’s bag and the muffin wrapper away. As always, he was right. You never really gave much thought to birthdays, never really cared much what you did on the day of. That was until he came along and showed you how much fun it could be, just to even hang out with a few friends or do something you had wanted to do for a while. The purpose of birthdays was to celebrate yourself a little bit more than usual, he reminded you. Funny how the first time he wasn’t in your life you seemed to have forgotten a hard-learned lesson.

As you made your way to bed you tried to come up with excuses as to why you had spent your birthday doing the absolute minimum: it fell on a weekday, your friends all had stuff to do, it was enough to have had a quick lunch with them. Wooyoung wasn’t here to put a stop to everyone’s lives just to remind them of your birthday. The harsh truth downed on you and had the same effect as an ice-cold shower. You hated the feeling of getting older and realizing how the world, with its cruelty, crushed the innocence and unadulterated joy you were gifted. Birthdays to you were just a reminder of that. Wooyoung, on the other hand, mitigated such bitter feelings by showing you how despite all of it, you could still find it in yourself to be a little bit of a Peter Pan, that you didn’t have to let it all go, but rather keep it with you to help facing how unforgiving life could be. Especially on birthdays. The thing is, it would have been so easy to do as you’d learned from him, you could’ve done it, but trying would’ve cost your heart too much. It would’ve been the umpteenth reminder that he wasn’t by your side anymore, not him, not his joyous smile or bright laughter. You weren’t sure that your patched-up heart could’ve taken being the better version of yourself if he wasn’t by your side, not yet at least.

Tossing and turning in bed did you no good, you had to be up early the next morning, yet whenever you closed your eyes you just saw pictures of him. Throwing the blanket off your body, you lazily stood up, ready to take a trip to the 24h convenience store just by your building. Wrapping a scarf around your neck, you finally opened the front door, just to find yourself facing the person who’d been clouding your head.

“Wooyoung?” you asked, voice shaky and confused.

“Hi” he simply said, a small smile on his lips. “I’m sorry I missed it but...” he looked at you, pushing a small gift bag in your hands. “Happy birthday y/n”

You couldn’t help but stare, bewildered, between the item placed in your trembling hands and his unreadable face. “I- “ you started, not really knowing what to say. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and you couldn’t keep up with your spiraling thoughts. “You don’t have to say anything” he rushed, eyes focused on his sneakers. “I know you hate birthdays and I’m probably the last person you want to see right now” shrugging, he finally looked at you. “But I hated the thought of you thinking I’d forget about it more” Something snapped inside of you, probably also having to do with his unusual calm and quiet voice and downcast eyes, that brought tears to your eyes. Wooyoung was rarely like this, he was always happy and cheerful and joyful, a smile stamped on his face no matter what. Seeing him like this had your heart squeezed in a painful clutch. You sniffled, immediately trying to smile despite the pain. “Thank you Wooyoung, you didn’t have to,” you said, trying your best to make your voice sound stable. “But I wanted to” he smiled a little wider this time, subconsciously making you do the same. “I was about to go get some ice cream; do you want to join me?” you asked before you could stop yourself. That had Wooyoung grinning in no time, nodding his head. “I’d like that” And just like a thousand times before the two of you broke apart, the table outside of the convenience store saw you sitting under its awning once again, talking and laughing like you used to with the company of just two tubs of ice cream and a starry sky. “Promise I’ll never let you spend a birthday alone ever again,” he said, suddenly solemn, holding out his pinkie to you. With a chuckle and the brightest smile stamped on your face, mirrored on his, you laced your pinkie with his.

#self rb bc tomorrow it’s my bday #we gotta fight off the bday blues! #wooyoung drabbles #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung fanfic #ateez jung wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung angst #jung wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung #ateez jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x you

[starrysvn]

t-2 days till my birthday but also t-7 days till i move to a new country AgAiN!!!! AY!!!

#have i packed? #obviously not :D #is the pre-bday sadness kicking my ass? #why but of course :D #have i spent my days in bed rotting not being able to do shit? aLSO YES!! #lheo rants