#//no need to match my length!

[renegadetulisrp]

a closed starter for @theking-blackheart-muses

Liquor bottles and beer cans were strewn over almost every surface of the living room. The scent of salted popcorn blended together with the greasy aroma of pepperoni pizza. When was the last time he actually let himself loose and relax over the years? This time round though, he couldn't escape since the hospital management forced him to take his compulsory vacation days. His son was with his ex-wife this week and Nate - bored out of his mind- did the only logical thing a man can do when he doesn't want to hit the bar - have a bro night with Atlas.

Nate was already flat out on his couch, legs propped up on the edge with his hands holding the controller of his Play Station 5. No one outside his circle of few friends would have guessed he was such a sucker for video games. "Do you think we can finish this whole thing tonight?" he voiced out, thumbs clicking on the buttons and swiveled the joystick around. "I read somewhere this whole game takes 18 hours to complete and I don't think my ass can handle that long of a sitting down." He turned to Atlas. "And my half-drunk ass is getting numb."

[renegadetulisrp]

The corners of her lips turned slightly in a mocking manner before she chuckled. "Aaaaww come on... you know that size doesn’t matter right?" she crooned teasingly, putting her elbow on his shoulder casually before pulling herself back. At the mention of Marconi and Michaelson, Seraph took the fag from him and schooled her features to be neutral. Taking another long drag from her cigarette, Seraph used that as an excuse to be silent. Those were the exact two targets she was supposed to have her eye on next. And now knowing Kyle will somehow be affected by her assignment from Zach later on this week… She’d try her best to avoid hurting him – these sabotaging jobs could be done without anyone being physically hurt right? At his question, Seraph shrugged. Shit – They were so close now and Seraph could definitely feel the heat emitting from his frame. Even the cologne clinging onto his skin seemed to be calling out to her. Seraph had to quell the nostalgic crush she had on this boy – well, now he's a grown man.

She had averted her gaze nonchalantly to the bartender when he questioned her. “Oh you know, working, fighting, training,” she tried to brush those things off before flicking her gaze back at him. She sobered up, grin slightly subdued. “I’m working at The Black Ruby club down the street – service crew. Still got the whole teaching Wing Chun thingy at that academy near our old place.” It was in honour of her adoptive parents – the sport was probably the only constant she had since she was barely 8. The brunette waved him off. “Pinky promise,” she grinned without offering her actual finger and handed out her phone to him, already unlocked. "Of course, I can handle my liquor. Why?" Seraph cocked a brow and then grinned. "You wanna have a tequila shot competish or somethin'?" she challenged him. Seraph immediately took one of the shot he had ordered and kicked it back without a flinch. She slammed the glass down on the counter top. “Keep up, cowboy,” Seraph laughed, pushing the shot glass towards him before signaling for three more to the bartender.  

Kyle enjoyed that smirk that rested on her lips. She'd only seemed to perfect it in the years since he'd last seen her, and it only seemed to suit her even further. A huff of a surprised laugh left the man as his brows raised slightly. "Well, shit. Sounds like you made their day." he teased, his smirk widening slightly. A more genuine chuckle left the brunette as he nodded slightly. "Yeah, still didn't get as tall as Kev, and he never lets me forget it." the younger brother joked with a shrug of his broadened shoulders.

He nodded slightly, taking the cigarette back from her. "Mhhm." he mused before taking a drag, tilting his head back and blowing the smoke up between them before he offered it back. He's settled in with the Marconi's pretty cozy right now, and I took his spot with the Michaelson's." he explained. That was one of the things that he had always enjoyed about Seraph, he'd never had to lie to her, or pretend to be someone he wasn't. She knew all the shit he and his brother did, and that their father had done before them and she didn't think any differently about him because of it. Or if she did, she didn't show it. "What about you, what you been up to?" he asked genuinely curious. A fuller laugh left him as he mimicked her lean so there was hardly any space left between them. "Now why would I ever want to give you a fake number?" he questioned rhetorically before his smirk rose once again. "Promise?" he added with another chuckle before he shook his head and held out his hand. "Gimmie yer phone." As he waited for her to hand it to him his attention turned toward the bartender. "And you can grab us 2 tequila shots and another round, whatever the lady wants and I'll have another beer." he ordered, his blue hues turning back toward Seraph. "You can still handle your liquor, can't ya?"

[lale-txt]

i knew Soft Launch reached the right audience when the comments about the wlw dating being deeply relatable piled up lmao

[cxncordia]

@oceanicxeyes - When the Sun met the Sea

It started when they attacked that girl during the sports event.

Two weeks ago, Toño and his friends saw how one of the students from the Infinite Academy pretty much transformed into a scaly abomination in front of them and with great bravery and strength stopped her. In the nick of time, Toño was able to undo the spell that had been placed in the poor girl. It was a whole ordeal but it was doable, she got to be healed from the horrible experiment placed upon her.

This had made the Teporingos, a group of five mages and Toño, become alert about the situation. Regina had mentioned having had premonitory visions about the arrival of the new enemy and Moises had his sights set on the Infinite Academy, a school for the rich elites that was heavily secured and, behind closed doors, dedicated to the pursuit of dark magic.

The Teporingos were the protectors of this city, the Verbena mages who took care of the land and protected it from evil that sought to take it away. Moises had tracked one of the professors of said Academy and after having investigated her, it seemed that Professor Yuri Aparicio, in charge of Etiquette and Decorum of the Academy, was also one of the Cinco Brujas that belonged to the group of Nefandi that Toño and los Teporingos were trying to elminate.

Tracking her by the whole city, Toño finally stopped when he saw the red-haired woman enter the bar. He had to follow her, to pursue her and to gather all the information necessary to stop this new enemy.

However, when he stopped the motorbike only a block away from the bar Tacho realized of a particular situation that the young Mage had not come to consider.

"And how do you think you are going in?" The small talking chihuahua scolded Toño from his back pack. "Do you want a disaster for us? Don't be a fool!"

"Disaster? But what do you want, Tacho?" Toño asked, frustrated by the small dog's scolding. "I told you that we need to investigate!"

"Investigate from afar, Toñito." The chihuahua explained. "This is an adult establishment and they won't let you get through."

"Well, I could disguise myself as an adult, you know?" The boy explained to his companion. "We are supposed to hide our powers in public! An adult will have no trouble entering and seeing what is going on." Toño took the backpack and adjusted it over his shoulder, the leather jacket squeaking when the straps were pushed back. The young mage found a place to disguise himself, sliding in the back alleys where the stench of urine and trash was almost nauseating.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop...You can't make a spell like that!" The small chihuahua practically barked from within Toño's backpack.

"Why not!?" Toño huffed. "Just wait and see!" Toño focused his energies, trying to imagine how he would look when being an adult and words in Nahuatl flew from his mouth. "Huapahua," Toño pronounced in a whisper. He had learned these from his Mentor, Huey Tlanextli. Taking a deep breath and soon Toño could feel how his height and his hair was growing. How his muscles got firmer and his clothes were getting tight around him.

Being a mage really made all these experiences so interesting.

When looking himself at the reflection of the window, Toño couldn't believe it: that really wasn't him, those were now more the face of an adult. "Hehe, nice..." He cooed, touching his chin and starting to notice how different his skin felt.

"What are you doing!?" Tacho scoffed in surprise. "Magic should not be used for fun!"

"Relax, Tachito. I got it all under control." Toño responded with more confidence than he would have. He then moved away from the narrow space and back to his bike. He took the helmet and put it back on the motorcycle, starting to look back towards the location, and once again thinking of a plausible and reasonable line for this adventure. He took a pair of glasses that Moises had given him, so that the Teporingos could see what he was seeing, set them on his face and walked towards the establishment, this time, pretty sure that nobody would notice him. Or the dog in his back pack.

As he approached the door, a sound, beautiful and enigmatic was heard. The light tone of a humming echoed with delight. Toño could not help but to try to follow the origin of the song with his eyes, completely forgetting that he was supposed to approach the front door, right at the entrance. A beautiful blonde man, with flowy hair and blue eyes was singing in the establishment. The boy's eyes met him for an instant as Toño grew enraptured by the tune.

For a second he felt as if he was carried by the waters themselves, the feeling of the breeze enveloping him and the gentle embrace of the water surrounding him. He remembered those days, one summer break, when he and his Dad got to visit the beach back when he was only ten years old. What a beautiful and soulful tune this was!

[innerbeast]

so short was his reprieve. he could almost forgive the spinning of his head once feeling a familiar tug and sway behind himself, a freedom to his thoughts he'd come to miss. but what was spirale city if not a place to pluck one from their comforts?

for no sooner had he expelled a sigh of relief towards some normalcy, did he feel himself lurch forward with an upsetting, familiar dizziness.

there's was a subtle hope it was merely a wave of nausea, an after effect of the prior switch. perhaps he was too eager with such wishful thinking. this was no sickness, just that same soul-gripping tug he had felt before; a sense of grounding becoming non-existent as the world around went black.

...

dizziness followed him once dar'khol was able to open his eyes again. already he was aware of an unfamiliar cieling, a few blinks given to try and determine if he could brush the whole thing away with an adjustment of sight. to no such luck. this was more than some bad dream, he was experiencing a new page of that three-eyed beasts game.

with a grown he's pushing himself up, hand rubbing at his face before running it back through a longer set of hair. for a moment, he finds himself pausing with a palm-ful; staring at the hair and the hand that held it. that's when eyes shifted to the side, the sound of something moving nearby catching his attention.

one might think his heart had stopped with how quickly he froze up.

"repede...?" the miqo'te's voice ( not really his, was it? ) left him quietly; a breath of disbelief as the dogs single eye stared back. there was a look of confusion that they seemed to mirror for a moment, broken by a questioning 'grruff?'.

"shit." perhaps not the most helpful choice of word, but there was a clear panic etched into the stare he gave. realization could not have hit him any harder, the fact emotions could run so vividly like this, too -- not at all stunted like he'd put up with prior.

"sorry, boy," dar finally muttered to the companion he was left with, "afraid i'm not exactly the guy i'm all dolled up to be." though partially awkward, at least he could talk fairly freely, but that wasn't important right now.

sliding from the bed he'd awoken on he was making quick work onto his feet, a hand instinctively reaching for a sword kept nearby. dar'khol held no intention of needing it, yet this body held enough of a routine regarding it. guess he was taking it with him.

"i have a sneaking suspicion where he might be, though." repede offered him another stare, something about it holding a sense of understanding to it. dar found himself rather thankful for it, all things considered.

briefly does the idea strike him to utilize yuri's phone; to give his own a ring to check in... but there's a sense of hesitation. something about it seemed different, yet familiar to how he's felt since they last interacted. no -- no, surely that's just his own still peaking through.

" -- c'mon." forget the phone idea, he knew were he needed to go and repede seemed willing enough to follow.

-- @darkenforcer

[outoftheirdifferences]

@spirits-of-nature16 liked (x) for guest muse Margo!

"...And I think. That's. Everything!"

The girl grunted as she tried to force the last few items into her already-bulging backpack. Maybe she was over-prepared, the brunette was aware; but all the same. For her very first official AVL mission? Even if she was just tagging along with Gru and Lucy, even if her role was just to find a safe corner and provide support for them by hacking into the security system of the lair they were infiltrating?

Margo wanted to make sure that she had all she needed.

Finally forcing the zip to close over the last few supplies she'd just purchased, the bespectacled girl let out a breath of satisfaction, slung the heavy bag over her shoulder--

And almost clobbered the girl who was exiting the shop behind her with it. Margo's hand flew to her mouth with a gasp.

"Oh, I'm so sorry--! Are you alright?"

As much as she was sure that Gru, in this position, would have just laughed and moved on... Margo didn't have it in herself not to care about the fellow kid who she'd almost knocked down.

[quietlyblooms]

open to mutuals | based on this hc ♡

she had a feeling this would happen.

years of self-regulating have taught chiyo to notice the signs, subtle as they sometimes can be, so her breathlessness does not come as a surprise. she knows the chest pain and dizziness will soon follow, and though she's dealt with this a hundred times over, there is still a sense of panic to get out of view, to hide away and wait for the moment to pass. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to explain how the little things build up inside her until her lungs can no longer expand properly; she doesn't want to explain how the big things drown her, pulling her beneath the waves no matter how strong a swimmer she pretends to be.

that is why chiyo tucks herself in the corner of some room, shrouded in quiet darkness as her chest heaves with effort. the ceiling tiles are dirty. the door's got a silver doorknob. the walls are brown. that's three. i hear the air conditioning. i hear the door opening--- her already racing heart startles in her chest. chiyo tries to make herself smaller, hands shooting up to her mouth to muffle her labored breathing. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to be found. she looks up, brown eyes panicked and brimming with tears.

they see her.

[morphemeta]

dracula's coffin club, early october / @anchoragestarters

October. Halloween. Harvest time for the owners of businesses dealing with occult, the spooky, the dark and dreary and whatever other haunting things of which you might think. For Dracula's Coffin Club, this was peak season (and, indeed, Halloween may as well have been Christmas) and, almost as soon as the sun had first dawned on the tenth month, Kaz had set to work on getting the place decorated. Some of this would have been done by hand, other parts handled by the kinds of professionals who specialised in dressing shop windows. There was little doubt he likely had more important work to be doing with regards to the City Council but he would always carve time out at this time of year to focus on the Coffin Club. If there had been any objections to this early on, they had fallen on death ears. Kaz was the sort of man who followed through with his plans.

For now, he was stood just outside the shop itself, clad in a thick black furry coat and frowning at its facade; although he'd spend twenty-odd years in Anchorage, he'd never quite acclimated to the weather. By now, the people of Rabbit Creek had likely gotten used to the shop's annual makeover but Kaz was never quite satisfied with his work. It wasn't quite perfect, it needed to be better. Yet he was at a loss. As loathe as he was to admit, nothing new was coming to him but the simple relief was that it would be easy enough to find outside help. After all, it only took a few short minutes of waiting before someone stopped in their tracks to take in the store's Halloween display.

"You," said Kaz with a snap of his fingers, addressing the passerby without a hint of hesitation or self-reservation. When you were very good at commanding attention, those were not the kind of worries you had to nurture. "This display. It feels incomplete somehow." He crossed his arms over his chest and pressed a finger against pursed lips. "What's missing?" Although it was not directly said, it was clear that this was his way of opening the floor to suggestions.

[aletheialed]

Right now, wine glass in hand and staring vacantly into the dark corners of the room in which he dwells - Barok can't help but think about his brother. To think about Klint during hard times, the man who he's always admired so much, has always come naturally to him - but it can't bring him any comfort now.

The truth is, Barok doesn't know what he should feel more betrayed about. The fact that the brother he'd wanted to emulate all his life was nothing but a killer, who's actions resulted in the ending and ruining of so many lives, including Barok's own? Or... is it that, until the very end, Klint was too afraid to share that horrible truth with him, even when that fear allowed him to be controlled into committing the most heinous acts imaginable?

It makes him want to laugh with a bitterness he hasn't felt in years. It makes him feel ill; desperate and angry and like a fraying rope about to snap. Perhaps it's sinful, and a sign of Barok's own weak character, that Klint's lack of trust in him might be what hurts the most. Had he thought Barok would break under the weight of the truth, and sought to protect him from that fate? What's worse is that Barok doesn't know how he would've reacted deep down. What's the scarier thought - that Barok would've turned away in despair and been unable to carry on just as his brother feared, or that he would stand with Klint, perhaps even turning a blind eye to his crimes...?

...There's no point in thinking about it now. But if he doesn't think about Klint, then there's no shortage of other things to take his place at the forefront of his mind. Such as the true identity of the Reaper, and how Barok had been complicit in his crimes for the longest time - allowing himself to be used and manipulated like a puppet on a string, even when he didn't see the full extent of it all.

His whole life, these past ten years in which he thought he'd endured so much, all for the sake of the people of London... what were they all for?

When he hears the knock on the door, it's tempting to ignore it entirely - he barely has the energy to stand, anyway. He doesn't know who it could possibly be, considering everything, but... in the end, he rises like a man possessed, and finds himself walking to open the door as if in a trance. What he sees when the door opens is the last thing he expects.

"Mr... Naruhodo...? You... pray tell, what are you doing here at this hour?"

@tenacquity ( starter! )

[rebelscaped]

food truck alley, midday, current time (no specific date) / @anchoragestarters

The remainding few pieces of xiaolongbao he'd ordered had been sat neglected on the bench table long enough that it had started to go cold, the soup having seeped out of one and into the polystyrene tray that held them. Although Kael had never been known for his appetite, it was not because he was not hungry that his lunch had gone ignored but rather that he was much too focused on other things; in particular, inspiration had hit and the most inconvenient moment and he was now stuck scrawling away on a pieces of scrap paper he'd found in his bag. The one he was on right now had been a flyer for something at some point, he hadn't bothered to flip over to check. Songwriting wasn't something with which Kael troubled himself quite as often these days; since he'd joined the band, those duties had fallen into hands besides his own. He harbored no ambitions of going solo but it felt nice to cling to old passions. Besides, the lyrics he penned were often personal and more occasionally, they were too vulnerable to be seen by anybody but Kael. He was fine with this. He might have even considered it a cheaper alternative to therapy. (Or was it more like keeping a diary?)

Of course it came as a shock, then, that a strong gust of wind came in just at that moment and whisked the papers right from under his pen. All Kael could muster as a response was a quiet grunt of surprise. The wind had calmed as quickly as it had picked up, as was the way of Anchorage's unpredictable weather. (He supposed he ought to have been used to that, given how much time he'd spent in London.) Most of the paper had gathered at the legs of another bench. Another occipied bench. Mostly under the bench. "Oh, fuck me sideways," he hissed under his breath, as he pulled himself to his feet and marched over, the gravel crunching noisily under the weight of his heavy New Rocks.

"Ey, if you don't mind moving for a bit, I need under here," said Kael, brusquely. Usually, he'd more polite than this. He wasn't a naturally rude person, but in times as frantic as these, he had a way of forgetting to filter himself. His gaze dropped to the bench table and his eyes widened as he finally noticed that a few sheets had landed squarely in this person's food. (He was so not reimbursing them for this.) Slowly but surely, eye contact was made. "Don't touch that."

[magnusmodig]

@clxscdeyes / following (x.)

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄'𝐒 shores was to remain each day suffocating in the wake of his own absence within the nine realms. his dreams , if they could ever be called that , recalled their sunken faces covered in dirt , blood , grime and ash. then recalled still how hands had clung to his cape , soiling the the fabric as he'd tolled the names of the dead , the lost , and those who had survived. perhaps another all-father might rave , beside himself at the audacity of commoner's dirtied hands and rivers of tears. but all thor had seen then was the grief of his people. cold and dark and heavy. he felt in himself the weight of every loss as though it were his own. ( if he was asgard's molten gold , his cape the same red of asgard's once-proud banners , then thor felt that the dust and dirt to stain his royal hem was fitting . asgard the people wept for their legion dead. it was thor's burden to bear the striking lash of each name he added to it. )

each day was counted in mortal months , weeks , days and hours. and for each sorry , sordid day spent far away from his people thor could only rue the moment they had looked up and found in him their golden child.

he couldn't escape this planet. even as it fell ill all around him he could do nothing to sway the tide of the "nightmare moss'" infestation. still , thor would not rest contented with that. the aevum realm was hardly one of his own , but he had alighted upon it all the same. and so he would toil against the tides of reckoning that consumed the isle beneath the light of the blue moon.

his work had led him first to the archives with his brother. then deep into the decrepit ruins with his flame-haired friend. but thor would not rest with such little known and such little done , and carved out in himself the WILL to continue as exhaustion foxed the edges of his mind. ( he felt them. his people . like shadows lingering just outside his vision . like hands clawing and clinging to his boots / pants / cape — ) he turned a corner on his return to the guild headquarters. behind the trunk of one tree and slumped against the next , the mangled corpse of an asgardian child , befelled by surtur's infernal flames , eyes accusatory and wide open and mouth agape with the whisper of asgard's scorn upon her lips – leering at him. the mighty thor faltered. blinked.

there was no asgardian girl. there was— another.

❝  — ᛒᚬᚴᚴᛁᚱ . ❞ ( damn . ) one foot fell before the other. in a rush of movement he had snapped mossy tendrils from his boot and crouched at her side in an instant. ❝  child, ❞ he called. then , placed a hand upon her shoulder. ( shook it as lightly as he could - aware of a primordial strength within his fingertips that could move mountains . ) ❝  luna. this is no place to rest. not at this time , young one. ❞

[renegadetulisrp]

Sam always had a way with his teasing - always building on to whatever ridiculousness she throws his way in their banter. And when his voice had lowered into a murmur paired with that gaze of his, Sage's heartbeat grew loud, thumping on her eardrums. "Good," she whispered back, "Wouldn't want to have a poor boyfriend considering my reputation, you know?" she teased back, grinning at him. Sage felt her heart stop for a brief moment as soon as his arm slip around her waist. They had never been in this close proximity - that one time he had treated her superficial injury on the arm didn't count.

Seemed like the mention of having a family tipped off a nosy elderly couple their way. The tip of her fingers had gone cold though despite Sam's warmth deft digits. Sage’s voice lowered to an urgent whisper. “They’ve been trying to set me up with this sleazy accountant of theirs," she tried to explain. "That's Uncle Pete and his I-am-always-better-than-everyone wife, Aunt Claire. So you can imagine now they want to know the deets.” She stilled herself, absolutely grateful that Sam was by her side. "Sage," Aunt Claire crooned, batting her eyelashes and Sage felt nauseated all of a sudden. "No wonder you've been avoiding our offer to set you up with our accountant." Sage could only shrug. Somehow words had failed her. "Who is this gentleman hhmmm? Are you good enough for my niece?"

“Taking a bullet for me, huh? That’s impressive—very heroic,” he teased, leaning in with a grin. “And, of course, I’d be more than happy to patch you up afterward. I’ve got the first-aid skills covered…as long as you don’t need full-on surgery.” Sam chuckled, his arm slipping around her waist with a casual ease as he noticed a few curious relatives glancing their way. “And don’t worry, I’ll steer clear of any financial discussions. I’d hate for my 401k to disappear into one of your uncles' ‘business opportunities,’” he murmured, his tone light but his gaze warm as he looked at her.

“And when it comes to the ‘settling down’ questions, I’ll play along however you want. I’ll just tell them I’m here waiting for you to give me the green light,” he added with a smirk, his hand resting comfortably at her side.

[cnlyfans]

continued from ( x )

there's  a  comforting  lull  between  them  as  the  two  sat  closely  against  the  cushions  of  his  couch  ,  attention  transfixed  on  images  of  ghostface  flashing  over  the  screen  .  they'd  seen  this  film  a  hundred  times  it  seemed  ,  as  it  was  one  of  the  only  he  still  owned  on  dvd  .  cable  had  been  cut  off  months  ago  and  he  didn't  have  the  extra  funds  to  restore  it  ,  having  lost  his  job  a  few  weeks  prior  to  the  bill  .  it  wasn't  in  the  plan  ,  none  of  this  was  ,  but  he  was  doing  his  best  to  keep  her  entertained  despite  it  all  .  putting  on  movies  ,  bringing  her  books  ,  cooking  together  every  chance  they  got  which  admittedly  ,  wasn't  as  much  as  he'd  like  .    his  savings  account  was  quickly  depleting  and  every  day  that  he  wasn't  working  felt  like  a  weight  against  his  chest  ,  crushing  his  spirit  and  making  it  difficult  to  breathe  .  he  hadn't  told  her  just  how  bad  it  was  and  didn't  intend  to  .  as  far  as  she  was  concerned  ,  her  belly  was  always  full  and  he  was  around  more  to  add  enrichment  to  her  otherwise  lonely  life  —  or  so  he  thought  .  her  words  ,  the  request  ,  seemed  to  say  otherwise  .  concentration  breaks  and  in  a  slow  tip  of  his  chin  ,  he's  finding  her  gaze  in  the  soft  glow  radiating  from  the  tv  .  she's  wearing  a  look  he  recognizes  ,  one  he'd  seen  many  times  before  ...  desperation  .  lips  pull  into  a  tight  line  ,  disappointment  quite  apparent  .  eleven  months  of  conditioning  learning  one  another  in  every  sense  of  the  word  and  still  she  has  the  impulse  to  reach  for  her  past  .  to  ask  for  the  one  thing  he'd  explicitly  denied  her  of  over  and  over  again  .  drue  had  been  exceptionally  lenient  with  her  in  contrast  to  those  who  came  before  but  there  was  one  ,  singular  line  he  was  unwilling  to  cross  .  this  was  it  .  this  was  the  line  .  "  you  want  to  leave  me  ,  "  it  isn't  a  question  so  much  as  a  conclusion  .  why  else  would  she  risk  undoing  all  of  their  progress  ?  he  was  finally  beginning  to  trust  her  .  had  been  convinced  that  she  loved  him  ,  that  she  wanted  to  be  here  with  him  .  and  just  like  that  his  doubts  about  her  intentions  are  tenfold  .  he  untangles  himself  from  her  ,  recoiling  to  the  edge  of  the  couch  where  he'll  rest  his  elbows  against  the  area  above  his  knees  .  allows  himself  a  moment  to  consider  the  request  once  more  before  shaking  his  head  no  .  "  we've  been  over  this  —  no  contact  .  not  now  ,  not  ever  .  this  isn't  just  for  your  benefit  ,  but  for  theirs  .  it's  been  almost  a  year  ,  dakota  .  they're  finally  coming  to  terms  with  the  loss  .  what  good  would  it  do  to  tear  open  the  wound  knowing  you  can't  give  them  what  they  want  ?  "  which  was  to  see  her  again  ,  to  bring  her  home  .  he  scoffs  .  over  his  dead  fucking  body  . / @svftlove

[stolenslumber]

hang your head low in the glow (pjs)

In this moment, you’re glad that you’re anchored in his lap, because otherwise you think you might float away into the night sky, on your way to join the stars in the cosmos. Jay is so crushingly sweet; sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with the weight of all his sincerity. For now, you settle for a fervent, “I like you so much.”

OR: A selection of moments in between the parentheses at the end of devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (some things may not make sense without reading that first, but it's up to you!).

PAIRING: park jongseong x female reader GENRE: established relationship, fwp (fluff without plot), no like seriously this is just straight up fluff and romance and making out with scant narrative WARNINGS: swearing, kms/kys jokes, kissing and suggestive content/sexual themes WORD COUNT: 10k (derogatory)

to all the boys i’ve fake-dated before (you, jay, sunghoon, yeonjun, chan, vernon, mark, and 5 others)

jay: peace out losers (except for my REAL gf whom i adore and cherish)

*jay has left the chat*

sunghoon: omfg no way???? jay bitchless era no more?

you: are u calling me a bitch

sunghoon: NOOOO i would never haha btw do u still talk to my sister

you: yeah

sunghoon: right so i’m just ur humble liege

chan: congrats, you two! well i guess jay can’t see this

you: i will accept your congratulations on his behalf :DD i’m really happy you guys 

mark: stop i’ll cry

vernon: no rly i’m next to him rn and he’s tearing up

mark: they deserve it so much!!! after everything i put them through 

you: excuse me it was mostly me

you: all jay did was orchestrate an elaborate scheme to get you and mina together (okay so he did a lot)

you: but we ALL participated

you: and i had to pretend to DATE you

mark: only for like two hours!!!!

yeonjun: wait this reminds me i’ve always wanted to know what ur ranking of us as fake bfs would be

you: in first place: park jongseong

yeonjun: and then?

yeonjun: hello??????

“Can I ask you something?”

Jay turns his head to you. “Of course, baby.”

Baby. Hearing it still makes you all silly and giddy, though it’s been four days since you started dating him for real and hearing it all the time. Baby, doll, Cinderella, mine. He sure has a way with words. You clear your throat, hoping that your voice won’t crack when you say, “Why were you so weird about the fake-dating thing in the beginning?”

He makes a face at you. “What do you mean, weird? You’re telling me you thought I was weird about it, even after you had to endure Sunghoon?”

“Sunghoon was just awkward. Really awkward, but still. You stalked me to my front door—”

“Your front door is, like, 90 seconds from mine.”

“— and walked with me to Nat’s at a glacial pace, while not saying a word. And then we talked for an hour about random stuff before you promised to help Mark with Mina, even though you weren’t sure you wanted my help. Why were you so weird about it all?”

“Pretty girls make me nervous?” He offers you a winning smile.

“Flattery won’t get you everywhere, Park Jongseong.”

“Yeah, but it’s getting me somewhere, isn’t it?” He rolls all the way over to hover above you and then dips so low that the pendant on his necklace swings in front of your face. The two of you had escaped the party in the frat’s basement after it had gotten too hot down there; Jay said he “knew a spot”, which made you laugh when it turned out to just be his bedroom. But then he pushed open his window and coaxed you out onto the flat roof, and that’s where you had settled on your back, gazing up at a cloudless sky, scattershot through with faint stars. 

Well, you were gazing up at the stars— now, Jay occupies your line of sight, and he’s all smiles and hearts in his eyes. It’s not an unwelcome substitute.

Your hand slips between your bodies so you can rub your fingers over the pendant on his necklace; you laugh when you realize what it is. “J as in Jay? Like T as in Troy?” 

He huffs, rolling off of you to sit back on his heels. “No, J as in Jopping. Yes, J as in Jay!”

You hold your hands up, still laughing as you sit up to face him. “Okay, okay, sorry! Didn’t realize my boyfriend was also a preppy high school girl.”

He rolls his eyes even as he pulls you into his lap. These days, he’s hopelessly afflicted with must-be-close-to-my-girlfriend syndrome. “I have layers, Cinderella. Like an onion.”

“... Are you paraphrasing Shrek?”

Jay flicks at the tip of your nose. “You know, it reveals just as much about you as it does about me that you caught the reference.” 

“You’re not helping yourself in the high school girl category,” you tease, but it’s all syrupy sweet fondness, punctuated by a playful tug at his reddening ear. 

He turns his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Do you want to hear my answer or not?”

You nod and straighten your spine with your hands folded neatly against your chest; the picture of propriety, if it weren’t for your legs straddling his waist as he leans back on his hands. “Yes, please.”

“I was… sussing you out, I guess. You know why I wanted to bring someone to my parents, but I couldn’t just bring anyone. I wanted to get to know you a little better, to see if you were someone I could actually see myself wanting to be with, because anything less would be a disservice to my parents. I didn’t want your help if I couldn’t confirm that you were the real thing. And then I saw how patient but also no-nonsense you were with Mark, and how quickly you were willing to help with a frankly crazy plan, and you just… felt right. You felt right to me; you felt like the real thing.” Jay blushes, ducking his head to avoid your gaze. Everything he said is true, of course, and he doesn’t regret telling you any of it, but saying it out loud like this makes his heart feel like it’s going to fall out of his chest.

In this moment, you’re glad that you’re anchored in his lap, because otherwise you think you might float away into the night sky, on your way to join the stars in the cosmos. Jay is so crushingly sweet; sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with the weight of all his sincerity. For now, you settle for a fervent, “I like you so much.”

Jay’s confidence comes back like a boomerang. He leans up and catches your hands in his, draping your arms around his neck before gliding his hands up and down your back. “Who’s flattering who, now?” 

You shrug. “Where’s it gonna get me, gorgeous?”

“Well, only because you called me gorgeous.” And then he’s kissing you, lush and lovely. 

Fall trickles into winter, and there are final exams and goodbyes to your friends before you and Jake leave on a two-week trip to see your family in Australia. You and Jay FaceTime almost every day; he complains about getting pasty staying indoors in the cold while you’re out tanning on white sand beaches. 

“Should I fly out there?” he muses one day close to the end of your trip. “You could be, I dunno, in danger! Because of the sun. No one to help you put sunscreen on your back… or check that you’ve applied enough on your legs… or your chest… It’s really important, you know. Skin cancer awareness.”

You laugh. “Thanks for the PSA, baby. I’m coming back in a few days, though, so I think I’ll be okay.”

Jay sighs mournfully. “I’m not. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you confess. Living across the street from each other at school and seeing him in person almost every day for the past few months has spoiled you. 

“I miss you, too,” Jake mimics beside you. You’re in an Uber on the way to dinner with your parents, so you can’t commit much physical violence against him, but you do punch his shoulder.

Jay pipes up with, “Was that Jake’s voice I heard?”

You glare at your twin before popping out your earbuds to put the call on speakerphone. “Unfortunately.”

“Yo, what’s up, my man!” Jake cheers, shoving his face into view of the camera.

Jay and Jake chatter about some game they started playing with Heeseung, and you have to admit that you’re really happy about how well you and Jay have integrated into each other’s lives and communities. Of course, Jake had never been a big concern; secretly, you think he loves that his best friend is dating his sister. You’re two of his favorite people in the world, though he’ll only admit it when he’s four shots in. 

Soon, you approach the restaurant, and you have to say goodbye to Jay. He encourages you to keep sending videos of Jake falling into the ocean while surfing, which prompts a loud bout of complaining from Jake.

“You better not have shown that to anyone else,” Jake grumbles.

“Yunjin loved it,” you remark casually, just so you can laugh loudly when he jolts in his seat and turns to you with panicked eyes.

He whisper-shouts, “Why would you say that word? And why the fuck would you send it to her?” 

“What word— love? Oh my god, grow up. And she asked for updates on you.” Your eyebrows furrow. “I think she missed you, or something.”

“She did?” Jake beams; he’s entirely a different man now. “What else did she say about me?”

You point at him accusingly. “You have a lot of questions for someone who claims that they’re just buddies with my girl Jen. Which, again— grow up. Anyways, Jay, we have to go, but we’ll see you soon! Love you!”

“Love you, baby. And you, too, Jake,” Jay adds, before Jake can whine. 

A few days later, you’re finally reunited with Jay at the big New Year’s Eve party his family throws every year. The Parks always get to host the last party of the holiday season; you’re excited to experience it with Jay for the first time. 

An hour before the party is set to start, you let yourself into the Park estate and make your way surreptitiously to Jay’s room. His back is turned to you when you open the door slowly, and you stop for a moment to just drink in the sight of him, comfy and cozy in a cable-knit quarter zip sweater— the definition of huggable. Quickly, you sneak in and wrap your arms around his waist. “Hey, handsome.”

Jay cranes his neck around to look at you. “Hey! You’re here early.” 

You let go of him so he can turn around and hug you back properly. “Couldn’t wait to see you,” you confess. 

“Thank god.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. “Mm, the world is finally rightside up again.”

You laugh softly. “We are so dramatic.”

“Unavoidable for hot people,” Jay reasons. He pulls back up to wink at you; it’s so cheesy that you have to hold your hands up to his face to avoid looking at him. He laughs outright, and the return of that sound so close to your ears— as opposed to through the phone across an ocean— makes you smile uncontrollably wide.

“I really missed you,” you murmur. Finally, finally, he leans in and kisses you. It starts as something innocent and comforting, then quickly gets subsumed into fire and passion. You fist your hands into the collar of his sweater, hauling him closer to you with an enthusiasm that makes his fingers dig into your waist.

“Missed you so much. Missed this so much,” he says, right before sliding his tongue against yours. Soon, he transitions to sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, breathing a litany of love you, love you, love yous into you. The kiss is so deep it makes you go lightheaded, and when you separate for air, the sound of your mouth parting from his elicits a faint pop that makes you shudder. He’s considerate enough to back off briefly for you to catch your breath, though he doesn’t make it easy. “Pretty, so pretty,” he whispers against your cheek.

You have to close your eyes to calm yourself down. Right now, you think you could power a whole city with the desire that vibrates underneath your skin. “As much as I want to keep going,” you begin, already doomed with how hoarse your voice is, “I think you have to start getting ready.” The way your fingers pull at the zipper of his sweater is wholly unconvincing. 

He sighs and straightens up to rest his chin on the top of your head. “I should really learn how to reconfigure the time-space continuum. Time needs to stop when I’ve got my girl with me.”

You hum in agreement, curving around him slightly to scrape your teeth over the birthmark on his neck and grinning when he hisses into your ear. “You’re a smart guy; I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you offer, continuing to tug at his zipper until you’re met with the end of the quarter zip. A frustrated sound escapes your throat at the obstacle.

“What’s your new year’s resolution?” Jay asks suddenly.

“What?” You blink hazy eyes at him; he has to pinch his own wrist behind your back to fight the urge to kiss you again.

“Just trying to kill the mood so I don’t go out there with a hard-on,” he explains, half bashful and half serious. “I have to make a speech, you know.”

“Thanks for coming, everyone! Hope you had a great last year, and here’s to an even better new year. There, speech done.” You withdraw your hands from his sweater to make jazz hands at him. “Wow, I’m such a speedy speechwriter! With all this extra time, we should keep going.”

“Brilliant,” he says dryly. “But you were right before; I do have to get ready.”

You frown and rest your cheek against his chest. “Past me was such a cockblock.”

Jay chuckles. “So, tell me, what is your new year’s resolution?”

Your eyes drift to the offending sweater in your peripheral vision. “Throw out all of your sweaters.”

“Very noble of you.”

“And get into grad school,” you say, more serious now.

“They’d be crazy not to take you for the Rhodes, baby.” Jay presses a final kiss to the top of your head. “I, um. I already asked to start in the London office of the company.”

You whip your head up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. “Really?”

“Really. I want to be wherever you are.” He smiles so tenderly at you that your heart breaks and then mends itself back together in an instant; shattered and restored all at once by the strength of his devotion.

Sadly, there’s only so much time you can spend swooning at your boyfriend (Jay’s right; you do have to learn how to reconfigure the time-space continuum). He truly does have to give a speech soon, so he starts getting changed, pulling his sweater over his head and swearing when it gets stuck on the wire frame of his glasses. 

You laugh a little breathlessly at him, distracted by the strip of toned stomach revealed by his current position with his arms stuck above his head in his sweater. “My last new year’s resolution is to close the gyms,” you announce, finally moving into action to help him unspool the yarn of his sweater from his glasses.

“All of them?” His voice comes out muffled from inside his sweater before it’s over his head at last, and he’s shirtless in front of you. 

You drag your fingertips from the top of his waistband to the warm skin of his sternum. “Especially the ones you go to. You’re too tempting like this.”

He shivers at your touch but still manages to smirk when he says, “Just for you, doll.”

You groan. “Seriously, don’t call me that if you want to make it out there in time for your speech.”

“We should get rid of speeches, too,” he declares. He eyes the top of your fingers against his chest forlornly. “But I guess I’ll have to give the last one. Now, for real, tell me something extremely unsexy.”

You quip, “To help you get flaccid?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Excellent work; we’re headed in the right direction.” 

Your phone vibrates with a barrage of texts at that moment, which you check as Jay disappears into his walk-in closet to get dressed. It looks like your friends have arrived, and they’ve brought your outfit with them (you had come straight from the airport, dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt from high school). You tell Jay just as much, raising your voice slightly to be heard in the other room. “I’m gonna go get my stuff and change!”

He sticks his thumb out the door of the walk-in closet, pointing it upwards in assent. He assumes you saw it when he hears the door close, and then his phone goes off as well, inundated with a flood of texts from his newly arrived friends. 

hsm 3’s most underrated song: the boys are back (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, jungwon, and sunoo)

jake: alright i have to k*ll myself

sunoo: why r u censoring all of a sudden

jake: i don’t want my fbi agent to take that seriously. although i do wanna kms

jungwon: why what happened

sunghoon: oh it’s HILARIOUS

jake: stfu

jake: so there’s eggnog being passed around right? and i see yunjin so i go to hand her a cup to be nice

heeseung: ~to be nice~

jake: kys

jake: anyways then i realize that the cup was really hot so i go and blow on her drink, like a fucking weirdo, and then i blow on SUNGHOON’S drink to make it seem less weird, except he’s drinking a HIGH NOON like an absolute idiot

sunghoon: hey i got the bartender to put it into a nice glass at least

sunoo: that’s my big (derogatory)

jay: perpetual bachelors jake and sunghoon! who’s surprised

sunghoon: NOT true i’m pretty sure the student government’s social media chair was flirting with me in the library before finals

jungwon: ??? wonyoung is a lesbian

jungwon: and she was just asking u to get out of the way bc u were spacing out in front of the printer

heeseung: L + me personally i’d kms

sunghoon: oh i know YOU are not talking

sunghoon: lee “the only time i feel the touch of a woman is when i go to yoga class at the university gym once a week” heeseung

heeseung: THE WOMAN WHO TEACHES IT IS HOT OKAY

sunghoon: oh heeseung mommy kink era?

heeseung: SHE IS MY AGE

sunoo: shouldn’t u be more concerned about breaking ur back every time ur there, grandpa?

heeseung: uncalled for wtf

heeseung: also tbh i wish SHE would break my back

jake: okay i’ve recovered from my earlier embarrassment. upon seeing what heeseung is texting, i’m thinking what i did wasn’t that weird

sunoo: bffr

jungwon: jake why don’t u just ask her out? instead of being emotionally constipated

jake: ew why would i ask her out i don’t want to be in a relationship that’s for pussies (respectfully) (i love women)

jungwon: yeah that’s definitely super emotionally mature of u

sunghoon: it’s 2023 pussy is a gender-neutral term

jay: you rly just say whatever the hell you want don’t you

sunoo: oh hey i see felix flirting with yunjin

jake: WHAT

jake: suddenly i have to go

sunoo: u r literally so pathetic

jay: btw i’m coming down now but if any of you see my gf before i do can you tell her she can change in my room

jake: gross

jay: GROW UP + stay single + kys

heeseung: GET HIS ASS

Jay’s idiot friends aside (he loves them so much), he actually is looking forward to seeing a bunch of his classmates and their families at tonight’s holiday party. Senior year seems to have crept up on him unannounced, and now he’s feeling slightly (a lot) sentimental about the idea of not living down the hall or at most across the campus from all the people who have made the last few years so formative (and entertaining as hell). 

He’s still thinking about how much he’s going to miss that place and those people when he hears your voice floating down from the top of the staircase. It sounds like you’re arguing with Kazuha about how many jello shots is too many for the after-party of the next phase of new member initiation at your sorority, which makes him chuckle quietly to himself. With four humanities and fine arts majors between the two of you, neither of you sound like you have the correct math. 

He opens his mouth, ready to give his two cents, but then he freezes at the sight of you descending the stairs. Vaguely, he processes the fact that Kazuha seems to have stopped arguing and even stopped coming down the stairs herself, just so she can give you two this moment.

This moment, which is making his brain short-circuit, because you are incandescent in a slinky, silvery dress that reflects all the candles that he’s now glad his parents made him light around the place. Countless points of light impart an otherworldly glow upon you, and you’re smiling at him; Jay thinks he must have saved the country in a past life.

When you reach him at the bottom of the stairs and he still hasn’t said anything, you tilt your head quizzically. “Jay? Everything alright?”

“You look like you just stepped out of a fairytale,” he breathes out. He moves on autopilot, bending at the waist as he takes your hand and kisses the top of it before straightening up to simply look at you some more.

“And right into the arms of my Prince Charming,” you respond, only half-joking. Right now, the dreamy look in his eyes makes you want to believe in happily ever after, as if it’s something he could forge with his own two hands. You kind of think he could, with the force of all his ardor.

Multiple phone cameras going off breaks the two of you out of your spell; you turn towards your nosy friends, who hold up variations of thumbs-ups and finger hearts. 

“Sorry, you guys are just too cute,” Yunjin says, not sounding sorry at all.

“Your parents would never forgive me if I didn’t get that on camera,” Sunghoon insists.

“Speaking of, I gotta go find them to make sure everything’s set.” Jay kisses your cheek. “See you later, Cinderella.” His fingers hold onto yours until the last second; your arm and his stretch out absurdly, as if you were parting for years, not minutes. 

“So dramatic,” Kazuha teases, joining you at the bottom of the staircase. 

“Unavoidable for hot people,” you explain wryly. You turn your attention to your gathered friends next. “I’m so glad you’re all here!”

“In 50 years, you could be hosting this party,” Sakura quips. Secretly, you hope it’s a lot sooner than that. 

“New Year’s Eve on Mars?” Jake suggests. 

Heeseung groans. “I’m scared of heights; can we not?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, dude, that’s not how space works!”

Half an hour passes happily like that, chatting and joking with some of your favorite people in the massive foyer. You don’t know exactly where Jay went off to, but the answer to that becomes clear when the music goes low and Jay clears his throat into the microphone set up at the front of the foyer. 

“Thanks for coming, everyone! Hope you had a great last year, and here’s to an even better new year.” Jay pauses to chuckle. “My girlfriend and I were joking earlier about me just saying that and calling it a night, but unfortunately for all of you, I am much more verbose than that.” Another pause for a light round of laughter from the gathered crowd. 

Jay works the audience like a pro as you watch with unbridled pride. A few minutes later, he winds down to the end of his prepared remarks, which you only know because he has asked you to proofread the speech weeks ago. You’re expecting him to wrap up with a final Happy New Year!, so you’re surprised to hear him keep going. 

“A couple of last things. To my parents, and everyone at the company, thank you for putting your trust in me.” Jay bows deeply. “I won’t let you down next year.” He straightens and looks right at you. “This year has been nothing short of wonderful. I’ve been so lucky my whole life, but the last few months have been particularly special to me. I’ve gotten to know people who I want to continue knowing for the rest of my life, who make me feel like my heart is too big for me, because I couldn’t possibly fit all of the kindness and love they give to me in the confines of my chest. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I do know that my life would be bereft without it.” Jay has to tear his eyes from yours because he knows he’s liable to cry if he sees you do so. “Bereft without you,” he continues, sweeping his gaze across the foyer. “All of you, who I’m so glad to call my friends and family. So, please stay healthy and happy this year, and I hope the new year treats you as well as this year has treated me. Happy New Year, everyone!”

Champagne glasses clink around you and people applaud, but all of it sounds far away. The only thing you can focus on is Jay, who’s making his way slowly through the throng of well-wishers to get to you.

When he’s finally in front of you, you have your misty eyes under control. He drops his hands to your waist and smiles gently. “Hi, pretty lady.”

“Hello, my favorite hopeless romantic.” Your palm goes to the sharp curve of his jaw. “You just had to go and say such sweet things. What’s gonna happen to my cool and unbothered reputation?”

“Right, your reputation.” He leans into your touch. “I can think of other ways to ruin your reputation,” he remarks, low and rough.

You roll your eyes, although you can’t stop your other hand from curling into the lapel of his suit jacket. “Romantic and horny! Duality of man.” 

“I meant what I said, you know.” His eyes soften at you. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me this year. Maybe ever. I have a lot of great people in my life, but only one you.”

“I know. You always mean what you say, and I love that about you.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his mouth. He chases after you, tipping your chin up with his hand to kiss you deeper. Sadly, it doesn’t last for too long; you’re both aware that your friends and their parents are nearby.

But later, Jay makes sure to kiss you from this year into the next one, and you hope that you never forget what it feels like— fireworks exploding above your head and in your veins, lighting you up from within. Radiant, in the glow of someone who loves and is loved.

girlbossing soooooooo close to the sun (you, yunjin, chaewon, kazuha, and sakura)

yunjin: do u think it’d be weird if i got jake something for valentine’s day

you: yes extremely

sakura: don’t ask me i’m gay

yunjin: ???

yunjin: okay thx guys this was super helpful!

chaewon: i thought you weren’t dating?

yunjin: WE MIGHT AS WELL BE. i’m sick of waiting for him to actually ask me out

you: jokes aside, i think he’s really into you, like genuinely. but his head is so far up his ass he will never make the first move

sakura: boooooo emotionally repressed playboy how cliche

kazuha: omg u should try to do something romantic

yunjin: absolutely not i can’t be a SIMP

sakura: boooooo emotionally repressed maneater how cliche

yunjin: WHATEVER

yunjin: more importantly, what are we doing for galentine’s!!!!

kazuha: spa day i thought?

you: yes but i have to leave a little early :(( sorry ladies the community kitchen is doing a pre-valentine’s day dinner and jay and i are signed up to help

chaewon: i can’t even be mad at you that is SO CUTE

Jay gets sick in the week leading up to Valentine’s day, which puts a spanner in the works of his grand plans for your first Valentine’s together. You tell him that it’s not a big deal and he should just focus on resting and getting better, but that doesn’t stop him from moping about it. 

mother is mothering (you, niki, and jungwon)

you: can i just say that this gc name is not helping to put to rest the joke that jay and i are ur parents

you: also i Don’t think u guys know what this phrase means…

you: but anyways what’s up… children

niki: pleaseeeeee fix jay hyung

jungwon: fr we’re desperate

jungwon: he’s been playing sad john mayer songs for like three days straight I CANT LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE

niki: he called the coffee shop yesterday to see if we could set up a valentine’s day surprise for u

niki: we can’t, so i’m not ruining the surprise

niki: but he literally had such detailed plans for the surprise like WE R JUST PART-TIMERS

you: omg… my bf is so cute :(

jungwon: that is SO not the point actually that’s like the exact opposite of the point

you: dw i was gonna come over today after the community kitchen’s pre-valentine’s day dinner anyways

jungwon: THANK GOD

niki: YAY can u ask jay to help me with research material for my history paper btw

you: ask him urself?

niki: i’m scared he’s going to rope me into some other crazy plan to make it up to u for ruining ur valentine’s day plans

niki: which sounds like a HIM problem??? why is he getting ME, a CHILD, involved

you: oh so ur a child now but not when u want to sneak into frat parties

jungwon: omg SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PPL IN THE BACK

you: jungwon i know ur the one who helps him sneak in

jungwon: haha. love u mom :)

you: IM NOT UR MOM

you: btw i’m bringing back extra vegetables from the community kitchen and i expect u to eat them! jay mentioned u were stressed lately and not eating well

jungwon: okay ty… not-mom

It’s almost 10pm by the time you get to the frat house, bundled in your winter coat and weighed down with containers of food. You leave one in the fridge, labeled with a note that says “for jungwon— eat this or niki will forever be taller than you”. You take everything else with you to Jay’s room, pausing at the door when you realize you don’t even know if he’ll be awake or if he’s still sleeping off his illness.

The door swings open before you have the chance to knock, and you’re met with the sight of Jay in a bathrobe, shower caddy in hand. “I must be hallucinating,” he mutters. 

You hold back a laugh. “Nope, you’re still in the land of the lucid. I brought you some food, and I figured we could watch something while we eat. Go shower; I’ll set up.” 

Jay blinks rapidly. “Oh my god, you’re really here?” He drops the shower caddy to the floor carelessly, moving forward to hug you before he halts abruptly, inches away from you. “Wait, no, you shouldn’t be here. I don’t want you to get sick, too.”

“It’s been, like, five days. I don’t think you’re contagious anymore,” you argue, sidling past him to drop your stuff into his room.

“Really?” The hopefulness in his voice makes your heart melt.

“Really. I’ll ask Heeseung to ask his special friend to confirm, if that will make you feel better,” you offer.

Jay's eyebrows furrow. “We should probably stop calling her that, but yes, that would make me feel better. Ask while I shower, but seriously, I’m not touching you if she says no.” 

You salute him. “On it, captain.” Heeseung’s special friend is the girl who teaches one of the yoga classes at the university gym, and she’s also a nursing student. She has a name, but Heeseung refuses to tell any of you what it is. Truthfully, it wouldn’t be hard to look her up, but you think it’s kind of cute how nervous Heeseung is about whatever liminal space he’s in with her.

you: hey can u ask the love of ur life if it’s okay for me to be with jay rn?

heeseung: first of all DONT CALL HER THAT second of all why tf would she have an opinion on that

you: i wouldn’t have to call her that if u would tell us HER NAME

you: and jay came down w/ that nasty virus like five days ago remember

heeseung: oh my goddddd yeah he wouldn’t stop whining about how his valentine’s day plans were ruined

you: ur special friend is in nursing right? so can u ask her

heeseung: i’m starting to think i should tell u her name just so u stop coming up with new ways to refer to her

you: that’s what I'M saying

heeseung: but yeah sure anything to get jay to stop being so annoying

you: thank uuuuu i’ll leave u some cookies in the kitchen so give some to her okay?

heeseung: omfg u made COOKIES i am so glad jay is dating u

Ten minutes later, Heeseung texts to let you know that you’re probably in the clear. More specifically, he says that his friend says it’s ultimately best practice to stay away from Jay for another couple of days, but she thinks the two of you are so cute and she gets why you’d want to be with him, and you’re outside of the most contagious window now, anyways. 

You figure that’s close enough to a yes, which is what you tell Jay when he returns from his shower. He’s at your side in an instant, hugging you like his life depends on it. “I’m sorry,” he whispers eventually.

“What on earth for?” 

“Our first Valentine’s is going to be so lame, just because I got sick.” He sighs deeply. “I wanted to make it special for you, especially because you’re always running around helping everyone, and instead you’re here, taking care of me.”

“Jay.” You pull back from his chest to look at him. “Nothing is lame, and nothing is ruined, okay? It’s literally just a day. And you always make me feel special. Being with you is like— ahem.” You cringe at the words that are about to come out of your mouth; Jay is always effusive and free-wheeling with his declarations of affection towards you, but it doesn’t come as easily to you. The way you feel about him makes you want to try, though. “Being with you is like Valentine’s Day every day.”

He smiles gently at you, one dimple carving a crescent into his left cheek. “You deserve it, baby. And even if you didn’t, I’d still want to give that to you.”

The two of you stand like that for a while, swaying underneath the unattractive lighting in Jay’s room. His hair starts to drip onto your shoulder, though, and you remember that you need to go back down to the kitchen to set aside the cookies you promised Heeseung.

“Why does Heeseung get to have some of the cookies you made for me?” Jay pouts.

“Troll bridge toll I felt compelled to pay, all because you wanted a second medical opinion,” you respond dryly.

“I’m supposed to believe you were the first? And I’m telling Heeseung you called him a troll.”

“Keep that up and you won’t be getting any cookies, Park.” 

Of course, you feed him a cookie as soon as you’re back in his room. Jay has changed into his pajamas while you were away, and he points to another set he’s laid out for you after he’s done eating the cookie. Once you get changed, you settle on the rug in front of Jay’s bed and start an obscure history documentary together while eating the food you brought him. You warn him that it won’t be as good as what he makes (you are a far better baker than you are a cook). Undeterred, he makes an exaggerated effort to fawn over every dish and praise your skills.

Afterwards, you sit on the edge of his bed and let him lean his head on your lap as you blow dry his hair. “I heard you were being a pain in the ass this week about Valentine’s Day,” you mention. 

“That… is a distinct possibility, for sure.”

“Seriously, I think you scared away all of Niki’s coworkers. He wants your help with research for his history paper, by the way. Oh, that reminds me— what’s the name of your group chat with Niki and Jungwon?”

Jay grimaces. “Glucose father slay.”

You suppress a snort. “That’s… creative, if unsubtle.”

He hums contentedly from the just-right warmth of the hairdryer and the just-right softness of your hands. “We’ll get to have lots of Valentine’s Days together, right?”

"Of course, baby."

When it hits midnight, you’re curled up together in his bed, with his laptop still playing the credits of the history documentary. You enter February 14th like that, tucked under his chin, exactly where you want to be.

On one of the first randomly hot days that pop up in late March before the weather actually gets warmer, you’re holed up in the library, eyes aching after staring at the tiny text in ancient manuscripts for too long and shivering in the temperature-controlled special collections section of the library. While the rest of your friends are out at the college’s golf course enjoying the warm weather at a joint charity tournament, you’re stuck here, beholden to the block in your calendar which says “manuscript time :/”. The rare manuscripts you need for your thesis are only available to be looked at during certain times, but today’s research session has proven to be less than fruitful, given how often your eyes wander to the door to the exit and how empty your notes are.

You can feel yourself dozing off for the umpteenth time when suddenly, warm hands land on top of your shoulders, and a smooth voice murmurs in your ear, “Working hard or hardly working, Cinderella?”

Jay. You turn your head to meet his gaze; crescents of affection reflect back at you. “How’d you get in here?” Appointments are usually required for the rare manuscripts room.

He flashes you a smirk. “Charmed the librarian.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you pulled with the 40-and-up demographic like that.”

“Yeah, I told her I missed my girlfriend so much I’d cry if I couldn’t see her today.” He drops a kiss to your cheek, then maneuvers the chair next to you sideways and backwards so he can sit as close to you as possible. He crosses his arms on top of the back of the chair and rests his chin against his arms to stare at you, soft and beckoning. “You look like you want to leave.”

You sigh and turn fully sideways towards him, letting his long legs bracket yours while your knees push up against the back of his chair. “You look like a reason to leave,” you admit. It comes out breathy in a way that you hadn’t intended, but who can blame you— Jay is dressed for the golf tournament in a navy blue polo and crisp white slacks, and as always, his clothes fit like they were made for him. 

In the back of your mind, you make a note to ask where he gets his tailoring done. In the front of your mind, your attention roams from the clean line of his shirt sleeves against his biceps, to the inviting curve of his mouth, to the planes of his chest that peek out behind the top two undone buttons of his shirt. All these months later, looking at him still hasn’t gotten old; truthfully, you don’t think it ever will.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Jay inquires, peering closer at you with a sly grin on his face.

“Like you have to ask,” you grumble, reaching out to pinch his cheek in retaliation for the teasing question.

He grabs your hand before it reaches him and gently bites the tip of your index finger, laughing when you make an offended face and pull your hand back. “C’mon, let’s get out of here, yeah? We should at least make an appearance at the tournament we organized.”

You glance back at the heavy tomes you’ve pulled out today— pages and pages of dense Middle English to get through. Then, you look at Jay, who has chosen that moment to skate his fingertips up and down the top of your right thigh. The decision is almost comically easy to make. “Yeah, fuck this. Let’s go.” 

You dutifully return your books and say a polite goodbye to the librarian, who coos at you both. Jay waves your joined hands at her. On your way out to the main section of the library, goosebumps form on your arms from the change in temperature: arctic vortex to plain old frigid, both of which are wholly inhospitable environments for the sleeveless golf dress you’d worn today in hopes of eventually getting to the tournament. 

“Cold?” Jay halts you both and sweeps his hands across your shoulders and down to your wrists, frowning at the chill he encounters on your skin. Normally, he’d offer you his jacket or sweater or something, but he just has the shirt on his back today. “This won’t do,” he murmurs, and then he’s pulling you in the direction of the secluded stacks.

It’s dark and shadowy there, with not a single soul occupying any of the carrel desks spaced in between the rows of books. Your heartbeat picks up despite yourself; you think you have a good idea of where this is going. This is also something that hasn’t gotten old yet and likely never will. “You know, I’ve always thought it would be kind of hot to hook up in a library,” you comment.

Jay trips over air, then quickly rights himself and shakes his head as if to clear it before looking at you again. “You would, you nerd,” he says, but it comes out low and contemplative. 

As soon as you reach the carrel desk located in the most isolated corner of the stacks, he brings his hands to your waist and lifts you up to sit on top of the desk. Happily, you hook your ankles behind his legs and draw him in to stand between yours. “You can’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.”

“I just wanted to kiss you for a bit, so you could warm up,” Jay insists. He leans in closer, until your chests are pressed up against each other. “But now that we’re here…” 

“Now that we’re here,” you agree. Then you’re tilting forward to kiss him, and the tension in your body from a long morning at the library dissipates into the heat of his mouth and the softness of his hair.

Jay kisses you long and luxuriously, like he was born to do nothing but stand around and kiss you. “You did so well with planning the tournament,” he tells you in between kisses, smothering the words against your mouth. 

“You did, too,” you reply, dispensing the compliment in airy gasps against his ear as he moves down to your neck, feathering open-mouthed kisses against the skin there. A whimper escapes from your throat when he bites down at the juncture of your neck and your clavicle, transforming into a breathy moan as he soothes over the sting with his tongue. His name slips out of your mouth in a dragged-out whine: “Jongseong.” 

He shudders against you. “Warn a guy before you do that, will you? I don’t actually want to come in my pants in the library.”

You giggle, tugging his head back so you can look at him. You’re met with shiny lips, slow-blinking eyes that drag up and down your body, and tousled hair, messed up from Jay’s meticulous styling by your wandering hands. Temptation, personified. “Fuck,” you breathe out. “What if I do?”

“You’re not wearing pants,” Jay points out cheekily. His demeanor switches to sultry in an instant when he presses down on your bottom lip with his thumb, and he groans when your tongue darts out over it. “God, you’re so hot. C’mere, doll, let me sort you out.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re slipping out of the back door of the library and into the parking lot. You shoot off a quick text to Yunjin, asking her to hold down the fort for a little while longer at the tournament, and then Jay is tugging you into the backseat of his car with an urgency that makes your heart pound. Now, you get to sort him out, and it’s so much better than staring at old books.

yunjin: what is taking so long i sent jay to get u like 45 minutes ago

you: sorry be there in a bit love you babe!

yunjin: woooooooooow remember when i said i would never betray u for dick

yunjin: guess u DO NOT FEEL THE SAME

yunjin: ah well have fun don’t do anything i wouldn’t ;)

to all the boys i’ve fake-dated before (you, sunghoon, yeonjun, chan, vernon, mark, and 5 others)

you: were any of you fuckers going to tell me that jay’s birthday is TOMORROW?!

you: help!!!!! what do i get for him!!!!!

sunghoon: believe me that man wakes up every day thanking god that ur his gf. u don’t need to get him anything

you: as much as i appreciate the reporting of his simp behavior, i am IN A PANIC his birthday is in 12 hours why the fuck didn’t anyone say anything sooner?!?!

vernon: i’m gifting him a new speaker for the basement

chan: bro you’re getting that gift for ALL of us bc you BROKE the speaker in the basement

vernon: and jay is one of the many recipients of that gift!

you: FOCUS on me and MY problem please

mark: yooooo u could write him a song? i still owe u a favor so i’d be down to help

you: and make him listen to me perform it? i’m trying to keep this relationship going, not obliterate it

yeonjun: mans has one single move in his arsenal

mark: HEY it worked out pretty well for me

yeonjun: only bc u had like a million ppl helping u

sunghoon: i got jay tickets to that japanese singer he likes

you: FUCK that’s such a good idea why didn’t i think of that

sunghoon: bc u didn’t know his birthday was coming up

you: thanks genius

sunghoon: but anyways jay never makes a big deal out of his birthday

sunghoon: it’s mostly like a sentimental thing for his parents bc they tried for so long to have him

vernon: strictly speaking, they were trying to have ANY of the sperm inseminate ANY of the eggs so like it didn’t have to be him specifically

mark: dude wtf

chan: i’m sure jay will love whatever you get for him! maybe you could paint or draw something for him?

you: okay yes yes i can bang something out real quick in the studio 

vernon: that’s what she said

yeonjun: this is why ur still single

you: the sperm and egg comment didn’t give it away?

vernon: guys stop ganging up on me wtf

you: okay thank you ONLY to chan the rest of you were useless

you: chan u could start a business. like a gift-giving idea business

mark: like santa claus but without the actual gifts?

yeonjun: ghost santa claus

chan: none of you should ever be allowed to start a business

It’s 5am by the time you’re finished in the studio, and you know your sleep cycle is going to be all sorts of messed up for the next few days, but it’s a small price to pay so you can slide into Jay’s bed and mold yourself against his body, knowing that your painting of the scene of your first date is leaning safely against the wall across from you. 

Unfortunately, the swift arrival of sunrise and birds chirping outside of Jay’s window leave you unable to fall asleep (not to mention the energy drink you’d chugged at 2am). You give up on it quickly, comforted by the fact that you don’t have any classes today and can afford to sleep in when your body eventually gives out on you. 

Staring at Jay is not an unenjoyable way to pass the time, so that’s what you do. Sleep smoothes out all the muscles in his face, but the sharp angles of the underlying bone structure turn him into marble; idly, you wonder how many sculptors would kill to be able to craft something this beautiful, this timeless and exquisite. You’ve tried to sketch or paint Jay multiple times yourself, and you’re still trying (that senior portfolio is going to be the death of you), but to date, you’ve been left unsatisfied. Something about Jay is just too expressive, too lively, too attentive; you haven’t been able to nail down the exact way he moves through the world, much less the way he looks at you like nothing else exists. There’s so much love to give in those steady hands, and so many meanings to divine in those familiar eyes—

Oh.

Jay’s eyes have flipped open, displaying his least endearing habit: sleeping with his eyes open. It unnerves you to no end, even though it makes him look kind of silly, so you have to flip around with a small grin on your face. “You’re lucky I love you so much,” you whisper, mostly to yourself.

His arm tightens around your waist. “Tell me something I don’t know.” The words come out slightly slurred, and the movement of his lips against the back of your neck makes you shiver. 

You flip back around to meet his now closed eyes. “You’re awake?” Jay usually sleeps like the dead.

“I’m trying really hard not to be,” he drawls. Eyes still closed, he tugs you closer to press his lips to your forehead. “Go to sleep, doll.”

You hum tunelessly and fidget with the pendant of his necklace. “Happy birthday, Jongseong.” You can feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, but you’re quick to nip that in the bud. “Or should I say… traitor? Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up? I had to find out from Jungwon.”

“Typical mama’s boy.”

You giggle, even as you admonish him with: “Seriously, that joke needs to die. One of Riki’s coworkers actually thinks I’m his mom, and I just have a really good Botox supplier.”

Jay’s chest rumbles in amusement underneath your ear. Afterwards, it’s quiet for a long moment before he finally opens his eyes to peer blearily at you. “Are you upset I didn’t tell you about my birthday?”

You give him a tiny shrug. “Just curious, I guess. Plenty of people don’t like to celebrate their birthdays. Sunghoon said it’s usually more of a thing for your parents than it is for you.”

“Yeah, that’s about right.” Jay rubs his thumb over your cheek. “I’m spending the day with them, actually. We go to the same place for brunch every year, and then we just kind of walk around until dinner, which I’ve been cooking for the past couple of years.”

You smile automatically at the thought of his parents. They adore you, and the feeling is mutual— how could it not be? 

Jay’s thumb halts its movements as something occurs to him. “Well, hey, do you wanna come with us?” 

Quickly, you shake your head. You can spot Jay’s Mr. Nice Guy gestures from a mile away. “Nah, you should keep up your tradition with your parents. We’re still getting lunch with them this weekend, right? So I’ll get to see them soon, anyways.”

“My mom said she loves the insoles you sent her, by the way.”

“Right? Super comfortable. I can stay on my feet in the studio all day in those.” Just then, you’re hit by a yawn. “I guess I did the equivalent of a full day last night.”

Suddenly, Jay sits up straight, making you whine about the loss of coziness. “Wait, yeah, why are you here so early? Not that I don’t love waking up next to you, because I really do, but you weren’t here last night, and… oh my god.” He cuts himself off when he spots the painting against his wall.

You sit up as well. “Don’t freak out,” you begin. “I had fun making it, okay? And I don’t have class today so I can sleep alllllll day and if you’re not tired after dinner we can hang out afterwards, and seriously, Jay, light of my life, apple of my eye, etcetera, etcetera— let me do something nice for you without you feeling guilty about it, okay?” You draw in a deep breath. “I know I’m, like, afflicted with a chronic need to be helpful, but c’mon. Pot, kettle.” You point to yourself and then to him. “I love that you’re humble and kind and you know how lucky you are, but there’s nothing… to prove. You hear me? Just because you’ve had a good life doesn’t mean you have to give 110% of yourself to everyone else to deserve it. Please don’t make yourself feel bad because you get to take something from me for once instead of giving.” At the end of your rant, you blink in surprise at yourself. “Sorry, I don’t know when that turned into a lecture. All I’m saying is that you told me once that you’d want to give me Valentine’s Day every day, even if I didn’t deserve it, and I want to give that to you, too.”

Jay’s eyes flick between you and the painting and back to you, staring at you like he’s never seen you before. He’s speechless for so long that you count to 33 in your head in Mississippis that are definitely longer than one second. Finally, he crushes you to his chest in a hug that has your arms flailing around him with the force of it. “I feel like you just crawled into my head,” he says against your ear.

You make a face that he can’t see. “Didn’t need that visual in my head, but okay, baby.”

“I mean… I’m just feeling very perceived; that’s all. And I don’t really have anything else to say except that I love you so much, and thank you, and you’re my favorite person in the world.” He sniffles, and then preempts you with a, “Shut up.”

“Noooooo, I made you cry,” you coo at him, leaning back in his hold to swipe under his eyes with your thumbs. As you continue to fuss over him and he pretends to bite at your fingers, he hopes you know just how much he’s affected by your words and just how much you mean to him. Golden boy Park Jongseong, the prodigal son, the miracle child— he doesn’t think it could fairly be called a burden, because how could it be a burden to be so lucky, to be so loved, to have never truly suffered? But somehow, you get it. Maybe because you’re cut from the same self-sacrificing cloth, or maybe because you just understand him at an atomic level, but you get it. You get that he has dedicated his life to deserving his life in the first place; you get that he tries so hard, all the time, because he wants to be worthy of what he’s been given; you get that he gives, and gives, and gives, and he never wants to take, because he feels like he hasn’t done enough to pay back the gifts with which he was born, let alone take anything else from this world. And here you are, giving him your heart on his birthday— a day he doesn't think is anything special except for the joy it gives his parents— because you love him. Because you're just glad that you were born in the same timeline. He has never dared to ask for a gift like this.

Pathetically, all that he can get out is a simple, “I love the painting, by the way.” He nudges your nose with his. “I’m going to have it framed for our place after we graduate.”

“Our place?”

“Oh, yeah.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I guess this is me asking. Do you want to live with me next year? Wherever it is that we end up. It would be, you know, economical.”

“Right, because we totally didn’t just have a conversation about your hang-ups with being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. And mine, too, I guess.”

Jay tsks at you. “Okay, or maybe I just want to wake up next to you every day. And make you food when you forget to eat, and listen to your horrible true crime podcasts while we clean up around the place, and hold your hair when you get sick because you forgot to take your Lactaid, and make sweet, sweet love to you every night—”

“Okay, okay, stop!” You’re laughing uncontrollably now, putting your hands up to stop Jay and the obnoxious kissy-face he’s making from coming any closer to you. “I didn’t need that much convincing, although I’m not sure how effective your convincing is when you’re just listing my bad habits, Mr. I-Sleep-With-My-Eyes-Open.”

“Yeah, but aren’t I lucky that you love me so much?” Jay smirks at you before tackling you down into his bed.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you repeat to him. Sunlight slants in through the window behind his head, haloing him in a light so ethereal that you could be convinced the sun shines just for him. Like this, your words fade away from you, until all you’re left with is a quiet, heartfelt, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll live with you after we graduate.” Softly, you stroke through the hair at his nape. “Stop wondering, by the way.”

Jay’s eyebrows furrow. “Wondering what?”

You reach up to smooth away the crease in his brow. “Wondering if you’re allowed to be this happy. I just told you, like, a million times. You are. The heavens have decreed that Park Jongseong shall be happy for as long as he lives, and a long time after that.” Dramatically, you tap each of his shoulders, as if you’re knighting him. “It is thus decided.”

Jay swoops down and plants a chaste peck on your lips. “Well, since it’s thus decided. Let me add something to that decree, though: I’m going to make you happy for as long as I live, and a long time after that,” he promises. 

And you know he will.

(London is overcast and dreary when you touch down at Heathrow; typical, for a mid-September day. You and Jay still carry tans from a summer of island-hopping around Asia and the Mediterranean, but you’re sure those will fade soon. Still, there’s nothing you can complain about when Jay’s arm is snug around your waist and he looks like a dream in a light wool coat and admittedly unnecessary sunglasses.

You tease him about the sunglasses all the way to the doorstep of your new, shared apartment. But then he kisses you across the threshold and whispers about how much he loves you and how excited he is to be with you for the rest of his life, and you are so, so happy. Unbelievably happy. Beautifully happy. 

Happy, forevermore. This, the heavens have decreed.)

[starcunin]

closed starter | @faebhaal

The fire crackles softly in the heart of the camp, its embers casting a warm, flickering glow that struggles to reach the edges of the encroaching darkness. The night is deep, a blanket of velvety black pierced by the cold light of distant stars. The others have long since fallen asleep, leaving Astarion alone with his thoughts, the quiet murmur of the night, and the ever-present hum of his hunger.

His mind races, a remnant of the nightmare that dragged him from the fragile peace of sleep. Cazador’s voice echoes in his mind, a haunting litany of rules that once bound him so tightly: Thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures. Thou shalt obey me in all things. The phantom weight of those commands makes his chest tighten, his throat constrict as though the very air refuses to pass. He’s free, isn’t he? The tadpole allowed him to break all the other rules, why not Cazador’s? Yet those words, etched into his psyche like the scars on his back, linger—unshakable, undeniable.

He sits up, pressing his hand to his forehead, trying to push away the lingering terror. But it’s not just fear that gnaws at him tonight. It’s hunger. The gnawing, ravenous hunger that never truly leaves him, that has only worsened since the night he drained that unfortunate boar. The taste had been ash in his mouth, unsatisfying and stale. His fangs throb with the need for something more.

And then there’s her. Ithaca. She sleeps just a few feet away, her small form curled under a thin blanket. In the pale light of the fire, her dusky orchid skin glows faintly, her rose-colored hair spilling like liquid dusk across her pillow. Those delicate features, so deceptively innocent in repose, belie the truth of her nature—violent, monstrous, and utterly captivating. He remembers the way she kicked that squirrel, the casual cruelty in it, the way her eyes had sparkled with something feral afterward. It had intrigued him, but it is her scent that now drives him to madness. She smells like honey and fresh flowers, like the very essence of spring, like sunlight captured in a bottle, sweet and golden and utterly irresistible.

He moves without thinking, a shadow slipping through the night, soundless, predatory. He finds himself standing over her, his breath catching in his throat as he gazes down at her peaceful face. She is beautiful, in a way that shouldn’t be possible for something so tainted, so damned. But it’s not just her beauty that draws him—it’s the hunger, the desperate need to know if he can. If the chains Cazador bound him with are truly broken. If he can sink his fangs into her soft flesh, taste that sweetness.

He leans down, closer, until he can feel the warmth radiating from her body, the subtle rise and fall of her chest. His fangs ache, his throat burns, and he is so close, so close he can almost taste her on the air. Just a taste, he tells himself. Just enough to know. His lips part, his fangs bared, and then her eyes snap open, violet rings burning against the darkness.

❛ Shit. ❜ The word slips out before he can stop it, as he jerks back, the spell broken. Fear, anger, and the remnants of his hunger twist inside him as he straightens, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But his dead heart races, and for the first time in a long time, he feels like a fool.

[severass-snape]

Severus lay in bed, his usually stern and composed demeanor replaced by an expression of discomfort and irritation. An assortment of potion vials and books adorned the bedside table, evidence of his attempts to cure whatever had befallen him. Yet, the ailment seemed to elude his expertise, leaving him confined to his quarters, much to his dismay. Cancelling his classes were an extremely rare occurrence, yet, today seemed to call for such a situation.

The dimly lit room offered little solace, and the restless Potions Master shifted uncomfortably under the covers, his body aching with every movement. His wand, usually within easy reach, lay on the table just out of his grasp, reminding him of his present vulnerability.

As the day wore on, he found himself drifting in and out of restless sleep, his mind plagued by a strange blend of feverish dreams and painful memories. He couldn't shake the feeling that his past sins were catching up to him, manifesting in this affliction as a punishment for his actions.

The sound of a distant knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he glared at the intrusion, not in the mood for company or pity. Nevertheless, the knock persisted, growing more insistent, and he knew that someone was determined to enter despite his reluctance.

With a hint of resignation, he slowly got out of his bed. His black tee shirt stuck to his chest from the layer of sweat he'd found himself in, black pajama pants hanging loosely from his waist, he opened the door with a scowl.

"What?"

@acciotherpthread