MIST ; ♡

hello!! i’ve moved!! needed a new start to help with the creative slump i was in!

you can follow me RIGHT HERE if you’d like!! 

marissa hadn’t even wanted to come out to the club to begin with, but her friends dragged her along, insisting that she needed a break from her both studying and editing her previously filmed videos. it wasn’t until they said they’d pay for her drinks that she agreed to tag along. now that they were actually there though, it was a completely different story. they stuck by their word and were paying for her drinks, but they also had all gone off with prospective hookups, leaving her alone on the dance floor. it was a bit awkward and for the most part she stayed off to the side. to loosen up a bit, she continued to order drinks and put them under her friend’s tab. at this point she wasn’t sober, but she wasn’t plastered either. she was a happy medium - buzzed. but not buzzed enough to intiate conversation with anyone. and then it was essentially forced upon her. she was so taken aback when the man suddenly grabbed her into a hug that her breathing stopped momentarily. she hadn’t even seen face, so if anything were to happen she wouldn’t even be able to identify him in a line up. one part of her brain was screaming at her to elbow him in the stomach, but the other part of her brain couldn’t catch up to her tispy thoughts to put her motor skills into action. everything seemed to be in somewhat of a haze, her body in fight or flight mode - but apparently her body had chosen freeze instead. bt what did he mean by leave without saying goodbye? who was this dude? when he had spun himself into her field of vision, marissa was shocked by the sight. of course she recognized him. he was an extremely well known mukbanger, and although that wasn’t her channel’s content, she was still familiar with many of the other youtubers and streamers who were at the top of the charts. it was part of trying to grow her channel - staying in the know within the community. ❝ i’m not going to lie, you scared the absolute shit out of me. i t-t-thought i was about to be kidnapped and s-sold or something… i’m glad i didn’t react immediately though. would’ve f-felt bad injuring someone for an honest mistake. ❞ she admitted, finally being able to breathe somewhat normally again. she slammed the rest of her drink but wasn’t sure if it was out of nerves or an attempt to rid herself of the previous feelings of panic. of course she wanted to dance with him, especially since she was all alone in the first place. ❝ don’t you even want to know my n-name?“ marissa asked with one brow raised.

it’s easy to want to placate once jiji realizes what he had done. frightening a stranger definitely wasn’t on top of his list of things to do tonight, but leave it to him to stray off the course. hands shoot out to place themselves on her shoulders, though instead jiji decides not to. he already wrapped her up in his arms from behind ( great going, idiot ), and the last thing he needs to do is touch her more. sometimes it’s easy for the redhead to forget that not everyone is as open to touch and affection as he is, and he brings up a painted nail to chew almost nervously on the lacquer. his smile is a wide, though still sheepish, behind his hand. 

❝ sorry! sorry. sorry. i promise it wasn’t intentional. i really did think you were someone else. ❞ jiji sways a moment, jostled by the dancing bodies around him before straightening up once more. he finally brings his fingers away from his mouth to hold his hands up, laugh nervous but hopefully one that will put her at ease. ❝ i’m gentle. i swear. no funny business over here. ❞

he opts to lean next to her against the bar, ignoring the sticky texture of the wood as he places his bare elbows upon it. his brain recognizes her as someone familiar, though jiji is definitely not sober enough to place exactly why she does. his grin is easy and large, head tilting curiously like a well-bred retriever. ❝ i’d love to know your name. here-- ❞ he holds his hand out. ❝ my name is jiji. it’s nice to meet you! that dance is still an open invitation if you wanna take it too. ❞

“  suck it up.  ”    he presses the cotton ball deeper, a deceiving smile on his lips. maybe it’ll teach the younger not to be so reckless. wally doesn’t get the appeal of two men going at it, probably shirtless, throwing punches. ( okay maybe he could see some appeal, as a viewer. ) but, why weiwei chooses to be put in harms way is a mystery to him. his lips flatten into a thin line as a huff puffs out.    “  i hope the other guy looks worse. wait — that sounds rude of me. anyways, did you at least win?  ”    

wally shuffles to the kitchen and disposes of the first aid. he returns with a glass of water in hand outstretched to the tiger. his eyes narrow.   “  if you get blood on the outfits i have for the next heist, a busted lip will be the least of your problems.  ”

he’s got to preen a little bit. puff his chest out like the big, strong man he is. it’s just in weiwei’s nature to want to impress, and it’s especially in his nature to want to impress wally. he’s big. he’s strong. definitely long term mate material. wally would see that soon. weiwei would show him. it was only a matter of time. 

❝ you think this is bad? this is nothing compared to what it was like in jail. ❞ he says, as though he hadn’t just been whining and complaining five seconds earlier. weiwei gives a sniff, running his finger under his nose as he relaxes his posture into one of ease, eyes following wally as he gets up. 

❝ i did win. ❞ legs part in favor of leaning forward and wrapping his arms around wally’s waist. weiwei drags the other into the space between his thighs, the offer of water going ignored so he can rest his chin on wally’s stomach and look up at him, large palms resting on the ocelot shifter’s behind. ❝ when are you gonna come see me, huh baobei? i’d win every fight with you in the crowd. ❞    

❝ there you are! ❞ arms wrap themselves around the set of shoulders in front of him, and jiji wastes no time bringing them tightly to his chest in a back-hug. with a soft, slurred laugh it’s only a second before he’s burying his nose into their throat, body swaying back and forth to the deep bass of the music surrounding them. it’s off-beat. messy and stumbling. leave it to jiji to be far too glutton for a good night, just like he is with everything else.

❝ i thought i lost you there for a moment! i was gonna be really sad if you left without saying goodbye. ❞ he sniffs dramatically, finally uncurling his arms from around them and letting them free of his snuggly grip–a trail of glitter left in his wake. ❝ you’re not going home yet, right? the night’s still young! dance with me! ❞ grabbing their hand, jiji curls their fingers together, body tilting so he can place his head into their field of vision.

it takes one, two, three moments for his sober brain to catch up with his intoxicated one. brown doe eyes go wide with recognition, and before he can help himself jiji has dissolved into laughter. ❝ oh my god i’m so sorry. i thought you were someone else! ❞ disconnecting their hands, jiji takes the moment to hide his face with another bout of embarrassed laughter. he allows himself a second to gain his bearings before removing them, sending a cheeky grin their way.  ❝ well…you wouldn’t happen to still want that dance, would you? ❞

boss, eh? she liked that. taking in his relaxed stance, inhye asseses the chaos around her. he was right about it, there wasn’t much left for them here. a quick glance to the fence once more told her she needed to make her decision fast. there was anything between minutes to a half an hour before that thing collapsed, letting the dead spill into the space they had been staying for the past few days.

“there’s a gate out back, we’ll leave through there.” she instructed, renewed confidence ( or was it false confidence ) shining through her voice. “we need supplies anyway. there’s a convenince store down the road. we can restock, and then find somewhere to camp out for a few days” it was probably overrun, but they needed food. “and please, make sure you can carry that thing before we leave.” she jabbed playfully, eyeing the sledgehammer.

there it is, that small rush of adrenaline kihyun got whenever something ( most of the time their lives ) became at stake. he shivers slightly because of it, though one would think it’s just because of the colder weather. with a small grunt he swings the sledge hammer up to rest behind his shoulders, the weight of it familiar though not. the grin he sends inhye can only be described as shit-eating, large and crooked. ❝ trust me, i can definitely do some damage with this bad boy. ❞

he waits for her to move, only finally picking up his feet when she begins walking towards the back of their little, ( used to be ) fortified, compound. kihyun tries to remember the days when there was more than just the two of them, but those are memories he tries not to revisit. besides, two was the perfect number. he could watch inhye’s back while she watched his. the groans of the infected are almost a twisted goodbye. 

❝ let’s hope there’s anythin’ left in that convenience store, or we’re gonna be eating canned peaches for a long time. maybe i can find a car to hotwire. s’been too long since we’ve had one. tired of walkin’. ❞

open to: males plot: my soft boy casey is excited to spend some time alone with your muse because reasons. this could literally go anywhere, tbh. connection ideas: a new boyfriend, friend he has a crush on, his best friend’s brother, etc. 

“so, my parents are going to be out of town this weekend, and i’m stuck house sitting,” casey paused as his mind began to think of the best way to go about the next question. “you know it’s a really big house, and i get scared easily, so uh, i was wondering if you might want to stay the weekend with me?” his words came out faster than the college freshman had intended. “i promise it won’t be lame! pinky swear.”

jaein looks up at the sound of a soft voice, notes in front of him laying forgotten in favor of watching the way casey shuffles about almost...nervously? he hums softly, head nodding as he follows the others words, fingers coming up to idly push up the glasses that have slowly but surely fallen down the bridge of his nose. 

he hesitates, because of course jaein does. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s gone over to casey’s house, but it would be the first time he’s gone over there without anyone else being around. the last thing he needs is his brain taking this information, with the ( hopefully unnoticeable ) stupid crush he has on the other, and creating a fucking library of daydreams jaein’s knows he’s going to find himself focused on instead of his work. but, if he was one thing, he was weak. so weak.

❝ yeah, sure, okay. ❞ not like he doesn’t have anything else going on. besides studying. and training. and a million of other things he should be going besides going over to casey’s for the weekend but-- ❝ i can stay the weekend with you if you don’t wanna be alone. totally. ❞

“what guy in gay porn hasn’t done some bad cliche of a gay jock hiding his feelings?” he asks without an ounce of shame to be had in his lackluster voice – straightforward and incredibly tired he signals down the bartender to order two shots of whiskey. he thinks he needs a lot more alcohol to deal with this right now that he is currently getting. if miran is lucky and he is feeling generous, then he might give him one of the two but as things are currently going right now that won’t be possible at all. “probably a lack of respect for ourselves and the artistic process – I feel like someone is turning over in their grave the way we gotta keep going on.” wasn’t it funny the way that the two of them were? gun, who was grumpy and hated his job with every fiber of his being versus miran who was obviously proud of what he did and at least enjoyed it. which, in the opinion of others, since he got to fuck more than he got to do anything and got paid for it then he should be thankful but really…..really what was left behind after every shoot?

“yes please, reign it in.” its a request with no heart as his eyes follow the bartender who slides the shots in front of him – knuckles moving one to his company and his other hand immediately shooting it back so he could feel the familiar burn of alcohol in his chest. it’s a lot better than realizing that the devil next to him definitely noticed the way he’d looked at him and seemed to be pleased with the attention. though he guesses thats not all bad – he did just tell him he, at the least, had pretty lips right? though as he speaks ( with gun only vaguely listening to his words ) there is something that occurs to him that causes his fingers to stop fidgeting. without even skipping a beat he turns his head to look at the other slowly, slower still. “are you…….trying to pick me up right now? is that what this is?” 

miran knows he can be a little overbearing. he likes to blame it on his mother--his real one--something he picked up and can’t seem to shake like a bad cough. it’s a turn off for most, not that he really cares about that, but with one shitty joke miran can scare away most men. though, miran has yet to scare away gun, even though the other male looks two seconds away from throwing himself over the bar. he likes that. likes that even though he runs his mouth twenty miles a minute with the most inane shit, gun doesn’t seem to give much of a care. miran watches with an amused smile as gun flags down two shots of whiskey, elbow resting on the sticky bar so he can cradle head in his hand. 

he’s not going to laugh, even though he wants to laugh. it’s cute. god he’s so fucking cute. was he trying to pick him up? it wasn’t miran’s original line of thought, but leave it to him to do something without realizing it. now the question was did he want to pick gun up? an easy answer of yes to that one. he was cute. even if he was miserable. miran’s smile only grows more.

❝ if i was is it...working? ❞

jaein can hear it now. the 80s music. the record scratch. the freeze frame. the famous yep, that’s me. you’re probably wondering how i ended up in this situation.

he groans softly, batting the offending volleyball to the side as he lays onto his back. the ball hammock is still resting over his legs, and with an annoyed kick he finally pushes it away from him. there’s two ways this could go: one, he could accept his fate and get up and brush it off. two, he could lay here like he is now, arm thrown over his eyes, and absolutely die of embarrassment. option one sounds like the better one, but with the way he is ( because, let’s be honest here ), option two is the one jaein will go with. because there’s nothing, and he means absolutely nothing, more embarrassing than getting distracted because someone walked into the gym and eating shit right into the volleyball hammock.

jaein’s hoping they’ll just leave him be to suffer in peace, but with the sounds of footsteps approaching–and considering they’re the only two in the gym–it’s very unlikely. reluctantly he pulls his arm away from his face, eyes squinting due to the bright lights above him as he looks up at them. the smile he’s wearing is one jaein hopes is reassuring and totally chill, but it probably looks as painful as it is to wear it.

❝ uh…hey. ❞ he says, casually like he didn’t just throw himself into a ball hammock. a nervous laugh escapes his mouth, one he attempts to cover up with by clearing his throat. ❝ how’s it going? i’m just…chillin. ❞ just chillin. god, he wants to perish.

it was supposed to be just like baywatch. marley’s seen it all. he knows how it works. you get out of the ocean and brush your hair dramatically away from your face. the wetsuit you’re wearing sticks to you like a second skin, showing off the goods as you begin running in the sand. muscles are tensing and people are swooning and you are the god of the beach.

the start was nice. he got out of the water without any problems. the flick of his hair was, in marley’s opinion, definitely oscar worthy. so gods why did he end up flat on his ass in the sand right when he got halfway up the shore? there’s nothing particularly sexy or cool about eating shit in front of the whole beach, and if marley hones his hearing enough, it’s almost like the ocean is laughing at him–posideon right beside her joining in. asshole.

❝ it wasn’t that bad…was it? ❞ he squints up at the figure before him, hand hovering over his eyes in an attempt to block out the sun. his hair is absolutely going to be covered in sand from where he’s laying on his back, but that’s a future marley problem. ❝ like i still looked cool, right? ❞

  she laughs at this quip ,  trying to imagine a world where these characters might exist somewhere  &.  being the petty type that these gods sound like ,  a fierce force of nature like medusa sporting braided snakes ,  leather jacket ,  studded boots .  though she rather wished that no one had to suffer at each other’s hands ,  eunoia enjoyed hearing another’s interests that differed from hers .  slightly turning to smile at other ,  “  is that your way of saying you like the art ,  or perhaps have a personal row with the son of poseidon   ?”  brow arched jokingly ,  how could she possibly know how close the inquiry hits to home  ?  a stickler for written details ,  but as obtuse as they come with body language .  however ,  for her credit ,  she noted the times she felt watched ,  often when her counterpart spoke ,  but to meet his glance was difficult ,  as he seemed focused on anything else  .  maybe little one was imagining things ,  or maybe he was just speaking to be polite .  anxieties always had their way of sneaking up on her ,  as instinctive hand cards long hair shyly .

❝ i like art. i uh..i make it, sometimes. i guess i wouldn’t really consider it art, but-- ❞ a small shrug. it’s humble that basil tries to be most of the time. he knows that his work is beautiful, though it was only through blood, sweat, and tears that he was able to get it to that level of standard. dare he say he cried the day his own father complimented it, but that’s more of an embarrassing memory that basil likes to try and forget--no matter how much he gets teased about it. he turns to face her once more, gaze catching the delicate softness of her wrist as a hand is ran through the dark ink of her hair. baz watches with an artistic appreciation, for once forgetting the scar marring his face. lips curl up into a slight smile. 

❝ to be honest, posideon is sort of a dick. ❞ his nose scrunches. so are his children, usually. but that’s not really a comment basil can say out loud. ❝ doesn’t have the best track record. not worse than zeus, though. i don’t think anyone can be worse than zeus. ❞  

of course he couldn’t help it, that pesky winged pixie couldn’t help his goddamn honey coated hands from getting everywhere and claiming everything as his like some spoiled child in a toy store, and he knew so well that the comparison only covered one smidgen of the rambunctious and enormous ego that the unseelie prince had. bothersome  nonetheless, even when the other was one of his best clients ( it couldn’t be denied ), feeling the ooze of honeyglitter on his skin and his garments, knowing too well how the fae marking wasn’t going to leave anytime soon.

annoyance, as he was saying. “ oh yes,  i missed your yapping and crazy demands, ” he barked just right back in vitriol and sarcasm, like a hellhound in chains ( which he kind of was ), eyes rolling  ━moving away from the fae in search of a better vest to wear since the other one had to be put through some heavy washing and detoxing. “ aren’t you busy with some diplomatic fae stuff or something? or are you trying to get new excuses for being ‘fashionably late? ”

the whine that falls between sticky sweet lips can only be described as childish. as though his mother was taking away his favorite toy. it’s with a pout that daehyun watches ikyeol cross the room and away from him, wings flicking with irritation at the sight of it. with a huff he follows, not one to lay things to rest easily, toes barely touch the floor as he flutters towards the smaller male. his ikyeolie--whether the witch seems to think otherwise or not. 

❝ mother kept me in the realm for ages. something about soon to take over the throne. i don’t know. don’t really care. ❞ he settles himself on the large bureau ikyeol had walked up to, right in front of the umbra witch so the other’s attention has to be on him. leaning back on the palms of his hands, daehyun wraps long, lithe legs around ikyeol’s waist to pull him as close as he can.   

❝ ikyeolie, are you really not happy to see me? not even a little bit? you’re the first person i came to see! ❞