#I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again:

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[rafesweetie]

⋆˚࿔ espresso ꥟ ˚⋆ — sunny!reader x rafe

“ walked in and dream-came-trued for ya! “

i believe the saying goes, “she was like a shot of espresso.” rafe didn’t think that saying could fit a person more than it could fit you.

he’d see you at parties, dancing with his sister or giggling with the pogues. you never could seem to pick a side. this whole pogue vs kook rivalry never crossed your mind, for you were simply friends with everyone in kildare. he’d see you at the beach with your friends, tanning while listening to silly pop music and sipping on a fruity canned drink. you reminded him of the sun.

there was one night where sarah cameron invited you to her place for a start-of-summer party. rafe was dealing some coke, as per usual, and his eyes followed you as you walked in, holding hands with sarah while she led you inside. he’d never understood why girls held hands with each other, but wheezie said that it’s a universal girl thing, and he ‘would never get it.’

topper elbowed rafe out of his trance, laughing about how rafe had a little crush.

“nah, nah,” rafe denied instantly. “isn’t she a pogue?”

topper shakes his head. “nope. she just hangs out with them. her parents own that flashy smoothie shop, she’s a kook,”

“…oh, that’s good,” rafe mutters. he can’t quite avert his gaze from you.

“aw man, you’re desperate,” kelce is on his other side, patting his back, making rafe grunt and shoo him off. rafe can’t relate to desperation.

his night goes on per usual, getting bundles of cash handed to him as he deals. until topper speaks up after a bit. “she just broke up with pope,” he informs rafe. “she’s on the market,”

“yeah?” rafe checks.

“yeah. you should go talk to her,”

rafe hesitates, staring at you again. you’re not a dancer by any means, but both you and sarah are wiggling your shoulders a bit when a good song comes up. rafe would assume you’re drunk, the way your giggles echo through the room and the way you spill your drink when you stumble into sarah. but he thinks that’s just you, drunk on life. he eventually speaks. “no fucking way, she’s with my sister right now. sarah would lose her shit if i talked to little miss sunshine over there,”

“yeah, well, need i remind you i’m dating sarah, so i’ll just get her away, go make out for a bit, she looks drunk,” topper offers.

“…a’ight. yeah, lets do it bro.” rafe agrees, and they both get up off the couch. rafe stands a little bit away as he grabs another vodka pink lemonade for you, maybe a subtle bribe into talking, and a beer for himself. topper talks to sarah for a bit, greets you, then leads sarah away.

rafe’s literally directly behind you, when suddenly you’re already talking to someone else. you’re pretty chatty, it seems. rafe hangs around to catch you after your next conversation. but then he looks away for one second, then you’re gone again. he spots you on the balcony, with jj maybank. then a couple minutes later, you’re with kie carrera. then you’re shotgunning a drink with sofia. holy shit. you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already, and he looks so cute chasing after you. if he’s not pushy, he’ll never get his chance. so, channeling his inner ward cameron, he spots you with ruthie (who he never would’ve assumed you would associate with. maybe you’re just being polite), and he puts a hand on your shoulder from behind, spinning you around. “y/n. right?”

you blink, not expecting the sudden interruption. but you regain yourself quickly, smiling. “hi! yeah, i am,” you say. your voice sounds as sweet as honey. “you’re rafe cameron?”

you know who he is? he shouldn’t be surprised, you seem to know everyone, but he likes that you know, anyway. “uh, yeah, yeah, that’s me,”

“well it’s so nice to meet you,” you smile up at him. “it’s funny, sofia used to mention you a lot, and obviously im close friends with your sister. but i’ve never met you before,”

“..you’re friends with sofia?” is all he can think to ask.

“mhm. i’ve known her since grade 5. we’re not like, super close now, but we were when you guys dated,” sensing his sudden aversion to talking about her, his ex girlfriend, you shut up. “um, wanna go grab a drink?”

“oh— shit, yeah, um, brought one for you, actually,” he hands you the vodka pink lemonade. “saw you drinking one earlier, so..”

“oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you say. is he that sweet? you guess so.

“yeah, ‘course. heard sarah talk about you, and it’s all been good things, so i figured i’d try and meet you myself,”

“well now you have. i’ve heard her talk about you too,” you don’t have the heart to say it hasn’t been very good things.

it feels like this awkward small talk is going in circles. but maybe that’s a good, slow way to start something.

your name is suddenly called by a group of girls a couple meters away. “it was so nice to meet you rafe. i should go, they want me,” you say softly, reaching for his hands. he remembers when you came in holding sarah’s hands. it seems to be your thing. “i’ll see you around?”

“yeah—“ he clears his throat, gaining the courage to hold yours back. “yeah. see you around, y/n,”

you smile. you could swear he’s blushing. “you’re cute,” you say softly, squeezing his hands once more before retreating away.

he feels like he just took a shot of espresso, and now he’ll be thinking of you every night.

[fastandcarlos]

"I Can't Sleep Without You" : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: after watching you walk out after an argument, daniel finds himself unable to settle knowing that you're not there with him

Your eyes found themselves fixated on the ceiling once again, unable to push your argument with Daniel away from the forefront of your mind. It replayed again and again, the things you said, the feelings that surfaced, the hurt that Daniel had caused. 

Soon enough you found yourself walking out of the apartment, deciding to spend the night at a friend’s house. You thought it would be the perfect thing to do to forget about it, but you couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

Just like you, Daniel laid wide awake, struggling to believe what had happened. The bed felt empty without you, all he wanted was for you to be back there with him again. He couldn’t remember the last night he spent without you, although he knew the reason for it was all down to him. 

Arguments were rare between the two of you which was why you were both so overwhelmed. You’d shouted at Daniel louder than you ever had done before, likewise he’d said things you never thought you’d hear come from him leaving you both clashing. 

On his chest, Daniel’s phone kept lighting up. Each time he looked in anticipation that it might be a notification from you, only to be left disappointed each time he checked. 

No matter how many times he closed his eyes, Daniel soon found them open again as he thought about your argument and the things that he regretted. He knew now the things that he should have said, angry at himself for not saying those things rather than what he ended up saying to you. 

He knew the blame landed on him, but that didn’t stop Daniel feeling sorry for himself laying in the cold bed all by himself. The feeling of being without you was horrendous, hoping that you were struggling just as much as he was not being by his side. 

As another hour passed, Daniel picked up his phone again, scrolling through his list of contacts. His finger hovered over your name for a moment, silently debating with himself whether calling you was the best thing to do or not. 

Your eyes grew heavy once more when suddenly you were disturbed by the vibrations that came from underneath your pillow, reaching your hand under and pulling out your phone. 

When you saw Daniel’s name, your immediate response was to answer, that was until you remembered what had happened. You toyed with the idea for a moment, deciding to accept Daniel’s call on the last ring, gently pressing your phone to your ear, greeted by the sound of Daniel heavy breathing. 

“Dan,” you sighed, “what are you calling for at this time?” 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late,” he replied, stunning you with how his voice wavered with upset. “I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I’ve been such an idiot love, and now I’m lying here, unable to sleep without you here.” 

As he fell silent, you could hear Daniel sniffing as he tried to fight back the tears. You couldn’t begin to imagine how hard he was being on himself, unable to remember the last time that you heard Daniel upset, let alone crying and wiping away his tears.  

“It’s probably really selfish of me to ask, but is there any way that you could come home? I can’t sleep without you, and judging by the fact you answered my call, I'm guessing that you’re the same.” 

A sigh came from you as you thought for a moment, as much as you loved your friend’s home, it wasn’t the same as being in your own home and in the comfort of your own bed. 

“I’ll be there shortly.” 

Daniel muttered a thank you before leaving you to start heading home. You grabbed a couple of your things, writing a note for your friend before heading to your car. You were careful as you drove, keeping yourself composed as you dreaded to think how things would go when you got home.  

There was a light on as soon as you pulled up outside your home, locking your car and heading to the front door. You barely opened the door before Daniel greeted you, his face red and blotchy from where he had been crying. 

“Hi,” you murmured. 

A lump ran down your throat as your eyes met Daniel’s, walking into the apartment and taking a seat on the sofa. The place was a mess from how Daniel had left it, with him sitting on the seat beside you, but keeping a bit of distance between you both.  

His hands brushed through his hair as he tried his best to stay composed beside you. “I’m glad you decided to come back,” he whispered, “thank you.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You were blunter than Daniel had hoped, although it was the least that he deserved for how he had treated you, it still hurt him. 

“Love,” he slowly whispered, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I should never have said what I said, I was selfish, stubborn, inconsiderate, just an awful boyfriend. “ 

“You were an ass,” you agreed with a faint chuckle, glancing across at Daniel. “I shouldn’t have pestered you so much though, you obviously needed space and I didn’t give that to you, I probably just wound you up more.” 

Despite Daniel insisting that he was fine, you refused to believe him. You nagged and nagged, reminding him that he could open up to you. Daniel’s frustrations only grew though as he told you that he was fine, deciding to deal with things all by himself. 

“I wish things went differently tonight, Daniel,” you admitted, “this is our home, it’s where we should be spending every single night together.” 

“I agree, no matter how angry we are at each other.” 

Despite the early hours, the time apart was exactly what you needed. Both of you had some time to reflect, reminding yourselves just how much the two of you hated arguing with one another. 

Daniel’s hand slowly reached across and rested against your leg, shuffling along the seat so that the two of you were sat next to each other again. His smile turned up as your head rested down against his shoulder. 

“Can we go back to just being us? To cuddling in bed and falling asleep side by side.” 

You hummed in reply to Daniel, feeling his arms wrap around your frame as he lifted you up off of the sofa, resting you against his chest to keep you still. 

He didn’t let you go as Daniel dropped down onto the bed, resting you into his side as he pulled the duvet over you both. It felt like home again, smiling at how warm it was again with you right there with him.  

“This is much better,” Daniel murmured as he rested his head on yours, allowing his eyes to close once again. 

Your smile grew as he spoke. “Don’t ever let me complain about uncomfortable our bed is again, she had me sleeping on the sofa and I think if I’d have spent the night there, I’d have ended up with a broken back.” 

A chuckle came from Daniel, “that’s because nowhere can compare to our bed, no one makes you feel as comfortable as I do anyway.” 

“That’s true, you’re the best.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[quarterlifekitty]

Weaknesses part 6: birthday present

cw: this one is nasty lol

Gaz wants to make home movies :) special lingerie for the occasion, a really nice camcorder you had no idea he had, a tripod he borrowed from someone who definitely doesn’t know what he’s using it for. And he wants to have you in literally every position you’ll let him get you in. One day, Gaz is going to get drunk and let slip that the video exists, and Soap is going to beg to see it, just so you know.

Ive mentioned what Soap wants for his birthday a couple of times, but I’ll say the more tame of my ideas again: no deodorant and he wants you to work out. Literally get as sweaty as you can with as much of your musk in your underwear as possible. Nothing to hide your natural scent. He wants to bury his face in your panties and your pits while her jerks himself off, then he’s gonna shoves his face in your cunt and spend a few hours down there.

Simon wants you to go somewhere with him wearing a skirt, and going commando. Some mid-thigh length number that he can easily slip his way under wherever you are, whenever he feels like it. Don’t worry, he’ll help you hold it down when a breeze comes by.

Price wants you collared. Who says just cause it’s his birthday, he should be the only one getting a gift? Don’t worry— he won’t have you leashed when you go out for his birthday dinner— just when you get home. Well, maybe in the car. But when you’re out, he keeps a grip on the back of the collar to lead you around, as casually as he puts his hand on the small of your back usually. And you KNOW the first thing that gonna happen when you get home is you getting on your knees, the leash wrapped in his fist while he pulls your mouth farther down his cock.

König wants heat roleplay. There, I said it. He already calls you maus, now he wants to see you wet and needy and desperate for him like a mammal in heat. Is he going to ask you to wear ears and a tail? No. Is he going to get so hard he almost passes out if you do? Yes. He loves the idea of you needing him and only him to be satisfied— that there’s a fire inside you that only he can quench. And to do so, he’s gonna have to fuck you raw until you’re dripping with him, bred the way you need to be.

Nikolai wants costumes and roleplay. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Teacher and schoolgirl, pilot and stewardess, slasher and camp counselor, knight and princess, evil advisor and princess (and yes, he gets you a different princess dress than the one from last year), he comes up with a new one every year. Once he even managed to get what quite honestly looked like authentic uniforms from world war 2, one Russian infantry and one nurse’s uniform.

[kinzhae]

"Can We Not Do This?"

Reader gets home after a long day, unfortunately for her she has a light argument with her partner making her more frustrated and tired like she was not enough.

Part 1; Reader x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento Part 2; Choso, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro.

Angst(?) to comfort, Tired Reader, Fainting, arguing.

I felt like I should write this since working is weighing on me so much these days that I have to go home with a temper and argue with my sister over little things LMAO

Gojo Satoru

Gojo was sprawled on the couch, tossing popcorn into his mouth as you trudged into the room. You had just returned from a draining mission, your head pounding from the stress and exhaustion. All you wanted was a moment of silence, but of course, Gojo had other plans.

“Welcome back, sunshine!” he said, grinning. “You look like you got hit by a truck. Need me to fix that?”

“Not now, Satoru,” you muttered, heading for the kitchen to grab a drink.

“Aw, don’t be like that. You’re always so serious. Smile a little,” he teased, following you.

You clenched your fists, the pressure in your temples intensifying. “Can you not for once? I’m tired!”

His grin faltered for a moment, but he didn’t stop. “Oh, someone’s cranky. Did I say something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped, turning to face him, only for the room to spin. Your grip faltered, and the glass you were holding slipped from your fingers, shattering on the floor as your knees buckled.

Gojo’s carefree demeanor vanished in an instant. He was at your side, catching you before you hit the ground. “Y/N! Hey, hey, talk to me!” His voice, usually light and playful, was now trembling with worry. He cradled you carefully, his blindfold pushed up to reveal his panicked gaze as he checked your face and pulse.

When you stirred slightly, he exhaled in relief, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. “I’m such an idiot,” he muttered under his breath, his confident tone replaced by guilt. “I should’ve noticed you weren’t okay. I didn’t mean to push you like that.”

As your eyes fluttered open, his voice softened. “Don’t move yet, okay? Just rest. I’ll clean this up, and I’m getting Shoko to check on you. No arguments.”

For once, there was no teasing, no jokes, just his presence as he stayed close, whispering reassurances. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, Y/N. Let me take care of you this time.”

Geto Suguru

You were already weary as you entered the apartment, your shoulders slumping with exhaustion. Suguru stood by the window, arms crossed, a frown etched onto his face. He hadn’t said much lately, and tonight, his frustration bubbled to the surface.

“You’re late again,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with disappointment. “You could’ve at least called.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Suguru, I’ve had a long day. I don’t have the energy for this right now.”

“That’s always your excuse,” he replied, his gaze steady. “You’re shutting me out again, aren’t you?”

“Can we not do this?” you snapped, your patience worn thin. “I’m doing my best, okay? I don’t need this right now!”

His expression hardened. “I’m just asking for a little consideration—”

Before he could finish, your vision blurred. The pounding in your head grew unbearable, and your knees buckled. You barely registered the sound of something clattering to the floor as Suguru rushed to your side.

“Y/N!” His calm demeanor cracked, replaced by alarm as he caught you. He gently laid you on the couch, his hand cradling the back of your head as he checked for signs of injury.

When you stirred, his voice was low, almost trembling. “I didn’t realize how much you were dealing with. I should’ve seen it.” He pressed a cool cloth to your forehead, his usually composed face etched with guilt. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened instead of pushing.”

His hand lingered in yours as he whispered, “Rest now. I’ll handle everything else. You’re my priority.”

Nanami Kento

Nanami had always been a man of order and routine, but today, his usual composed demeanor felt more critical than supportive. You had barely walked in the door when he commented, “You’re late again. You’re overworking yourself.”

“I know,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes.

“Knowing isn’t enough,” he continued, his tone even but firm. “You need to manage your time better. This isn’t sustainable.”

“I’m trying, Kento!” you snapped, the throbbing in your head making it hard to think straight. “Do you think I like feeling like this?”

He froze at your sharp tone but didn’t back down. “I’m only saying this because I care. You can’t keep running yourself into the ground.”

Your vision blurred as the pressure in your temples reached a breaking point. The last thing you saw was Nanami’s shocked expression before the world tilted and you crumpled to the floor.

“Y/N!” His usually calm voice was filled with panic as he rushed to your side. He knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly as he checked your pulse and gently lifted you into his arms.

When you regained consciousness, he was sitting beside you, holding your hand tightly. “You scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just... I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his eyes soft with concern. “Rest. I’ll be here to take care of everything.”

[shirtlessdigby]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Dear god, please just end me.

save me chucky in glasses trying finnish food, save me from this cruel world

[pickingupmymercedes]

White Fireproof - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +2k

a/n: White fireproof tribute (the 2019 one, the one that actually had aura)

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

I’m not one to get distracted easily.

Really, I’m not.

But there’s something about the way Lewis moves when he’s in his element that just…scrambles my brain.

And right then, standing in front of me, adjusting the collar of this brand-new, snow-white fireproofs like he’s trying on his newest Dior collection instead of his race driver uniform.

“Do you think this watch pops enough against the white?” he asks, flicking his wrist in my direction.

I hum in response, my eyes glued to the line of his shoulders, the fit of the material across his chest, and the way it clings to his hips like it’s got a personal vendetta against me.

I mean I’ve seen him in fireproofs a hundred times, but this shade of white? This specific white? Sinful.

Lewis keeps talking, oblivious to my descent into thirsty nostalgia. “I think it’ll works for the shots. Clean, sleek. What do you think, babe?”

“Mmhm,” I mutter, my mind decidedly not in the present.

Here’s the thing: Lewis like this, all crisp and sharp, unlocked a memory I had neatly tucked away.

Abu Dhabi, 2019. Last race of the season.

Last time he wore a fireproof this white at a race. And the first of many times we did something reckless—but oh-so worth it.

Lewis, bless his heart, keeps chatting. Rambling on about how the watch’s black dial contrasts with the white fabric, and I’m sitting here pretending to listen while my brain serves up a reel of that night.

“And then they said we might try another angle where the light hits the watch just right—”

Oh, I’ll tell you about angles, sir.

Like the one I had to work at to get around the time frame on that fireproof while making good on a promise that was half a joke, half a long-standing fantasy.

He finally looks at me, his brows pulling together slightly. “You good? You’re quiet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I wave a hand, crossing my legs to try and focus. “Just thinking about…stuff.”

Smooth, Y/n. Really smooth.

I didn’t think I’d actually do it.

A tipsy promise made over tequila shots months ago doesn’t usually hold much weight. But then again, I’m not dating just anyone.

I’m dating Lewis Hamilton, one of the most competitive guys I’ve met, fresh off winning the last race of the season and securing a Grand Chelem after achieving his 6th championship two races back.

And who am I to back out now, when he’s standing in front of me, soaked in champagne, grinning like he’s on top of the world?

He barely gets two steps into the driver’s room before I’m on him. I press him against the door, his laugh vibrating against my lips as I kiss him like we’ve got all the time in the world, even though we don’t.

“Someone’s happy” he teases between kisses, his hands settling on my hips.

“You’ve got no idea,” I murmur, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling back slightly. His gaze, dark and shining, flicking between my eyes and my lips.

I let my fingers toy with the zipper of his race suit, tugging it down just enough to reveal the long sleeve underneath. “Remember the bet?” I ask, my voice low, playful.

He blinks, clearly taking a second to process, and then his brows shoot up. “You’re serious?”

“Very serious.” I grin, dragging the zipper down the rest of the way. “We got fifteen minutes, champ.”

He swallows hard, the heat in his eyes unmistakable now. “Yes ma’am” he mutters, no resisting as I guide him toward the small sofa tucked in the corner of the room, giving him a gentle push.

He obeys, leaning back slightly, his legs spread just enough to make my mouth water.

I settle between his knees, my hands gliding over the champagne-soaked fireproofs. The fabric clings to his skin, warm and damp beneath my fingers, exuding that sharp, fizzy scent of victory—sweet and metallic, a heady mix of adrenaline and success.

His gaze doesn’t waver, intense and unblinking, like he’s trying to commit every second of this to memory.

I can hear the quickening rhythm of his breath, and the barely-there hitch that makes me shiver. His chest rises and falls beneath my hands, steady but heavy, the pulse in his neck beating fast enough for me to notice, almost in sync with my own racing heartbeat.

“You with me?” I ask, smirking as I press a kiss to his hand that is hovering mine. His silence is answer enough.

His breath hitches audibly as my fingers hook into the waistband of his fireproofs, the sound low and raspy like it’s caught in his throat.

The soft rustle of fabric against his skin fills the air as I tug them down, revealing smooth, sweat-slicked skin that glistens faintly under the dim lights. The faintest trace of cologne—woody, clean—lingers where his body heat mingles with the champagne.

 It’s intoxicating, almost dizzying, and I can’t help but lean in, my nose brushing just above his waistband to drink it in.

The bulge in his briefs is impossible to ignore, and I let my fingers trail over it lightly, earning a soft groan from him.

“You know” I say, leaning in close, my lips brushing against the fabric “if you walk into that debrief with this situation still going on, it might be a little awkward.”

He chuckles, though it’s strained. “Help me then.”

“Maybe I should” I reply, pulling his briefs down just enough to free him.

He’s already hard, the tip glistening with precum.

I start slow, my tongue flicking out to taste him, and the salty but fruity tang spurring me. I drag my tongue along the length of him, spreading the slickness as I go.

His breath is uneven, and I can feel his restraint slipping.

When I finally take him into my mouth, I go as far as my throat allows, the coolness of my lips contrasting with his heat. I pull back with a soft pop, flicking my eyes up to meet his.

His gaze is locked on me, intense and unwavering.

I wrap both hands around his length, stroking him slowly, deliberately, while maintaining eye contact. His lips part slightly, and when I hear the first low moan escape, I can’t help but grin.

“Enjoying yourself?” I tease, my voice raspy.

His only response is a shaky exhale, and I take that as my cue to dive back in, my mouth working with my hands. His hips twitch slightly, his self-control barely there anymore.

The sounds he makes—soft groans, sharp inhales, and the occasional whispered curse—are like music.

His thighs tense under my palms, firm and unyielding, as if bracing for what’s next. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the heady mix of sweat and lingering champagne heightening every inhale I take.

His body is alive beneath me, each twitch, each gasp, syncing with my rhythm of hands and mouth.

When I glance up again, his head is tipped back, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s completely lost in the moment, lost in me.

I pull back, letting him slip from my mouth as I sit back on my heels and his eyes snap open, dark and desperate, as if I’ve just yanked him back to earth.

“Problem?” I ask innocently, tilting my head, pretending like I’m done.

His jaw clenches. “Babe” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, his eyes narrowing in that way that makes my stomach flip.

I raise a brow, waiting. He knows what I want. He exhales heavily, his hand reaching out to rest on the back of my head.

With the gentlest pressure, he guides me back down. “Don’t stop,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over my jaw.

I smirk before taking him in again, my lips wrapping around him, picking up right where I left off.

His hands stay on me, not pushing, just there, grounding himself. I can feel his thighs tense beneath my palms, his body teetering on the edge.

And then—footsteps. A knock on the door.

“Oi, hurry up, you two!” Angela’s voice cuts through from the other side. “Five minutes left”

Lewis freezes, his entire body going rigid. His eyes shoot to the door and I freeze right with him, unmoved, my tongue teasing him lightly just to test his resolve.

Angela’s steps fade down the hall, and I finally lift my head just enough to whisper, “She’s gone.”

His shoulders sag, and he lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re gonna kill me” he mutters.

“Not before I finish what I started.”

Without missing a beat, I shift my focus, letting my hand drift lower to gently cup his balls. I massage them with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch, all while my mouth works him steadily.

His hips twitch, and I know I’ve got him.

“Shit,” he breathes, his head falling back.

It doesn’t take long before his hands move again, this time pulling gently at my head, trying to stop me. “Babe,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I’m gonna—”

I hum in response, doubling down, taking him deeper. His grip tightens, his hips jerking slightly as he tries to warn me again, but I’m not stopping.

Not this time.

His body tenses, and then I feel it—hot and thick, spilling down my throat.

I swallow every drop, my eyes locked on his, watching as his features twist in pure bliss. His mouth falls open, and the quietest, most wrecked groan escapes him as he collapses back against the sofa. Spent.

I give him a few more gentle strokes, making sure I’ve got everything, before finally pulling back, letting my lips trail one last time over the sensitive tip.

His hands fall to his sides, useless, as he tries to catch his breath.

I rise slowly, crawling up his body until I’m face to face with him. His eyes are half-lidded, heavy with satisfaction, but they don’t leave mine.

I press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips, like I hadn’t just sucked him dry moments before.

“Thanks for the trophy,” I whisper against his mouth, grinning.

I’m still half-lost in my own mind when Lewis’s voice breaks through the haze. “Love, you good?”

I blink, snapping back to the present. He’s standing in front of me, white fireproofs hugging every muscle, his brow slightly raised, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, waving a hand dismissively, even as my cheeks burn. He doesn’t need to know how far down memory lane I just went. “Just... admiring the view.”

His smirk deepens. “Uh-huh.” He steps closer, leaning in slightly. “You’ve been staring at me like that since I put this on. Something on your mind?”

Oh, you sweet, oblivious man.

I clear my throat, standing up from the couch and brushing past him to inspect his fireproofs more closely. “All I’ll say it’s,” I start, my fingers tracing the fabric near his shoulder, “It’s not as good as the 2019 one.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms. “I thought you liked the all-white look.”

“I did,” I admit, turning to face him fully, my hands on my hips. “But these little dot patterns?” I point at the subtle textured details near his ribs. “They’re throwing me off”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course.”

“Hey,” I retort, poking him lightly in the chest, “I’m only pointing out the obvious. The 2019 ones were iconic. These? Meh.” I scrunch my nose for dramatic effect.

“Meh?” he repeats, incredulous. “Okay, little miss fashionista”

I grin. “And yet, here you are, still putting up with me.”

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to that soft, teasing tone that always gets me. “You’ve got strong opinions for someone who couldn’t keep her hands off me in the old ones.”

Touché.

“Fair point” I concede, stepping back just enough to keep things playful. “But let’s not forget who really benefited from that moment in history.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts the sleeves of his fireproofs. “You know,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting mine, “I don’t remember much from that race. But those ten minutes? Burned into my memory forever.”

I bite my lip, warmth blooming in my chest. “Good” I reply, my voice softening. “I like knowing I leave an impression.”

He reaches for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You always do.”

The knock on the door snaps us both out of the moment. “Lewis, waiting for you!”

Lewis sighs, giving my hand a quick squeeze before letting go. “ I’ll be right back”

As he heads for the door, I can’t resist one last parting shot. “Tell the photographers to focus on your face” I call out. “It’s the real moneymaker.”

With one final smirk, he disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the satisfaction of knowing I’ll never look at white fireproofs the same way again.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[ittybittyremy]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I want a Dorian Storm novel so badly! Think about all the interesting things we would get…

Silken Squall lore

Coriolis lore

More Cyrus lore

Childhood

DORIAN’S MOTHER

Zone of Truth stuff

Drama Club

Where his love of the arts comes from

Adulthood

Court Dances

Motivation for running away

The creation of Dorian Storm

Running away

The year between running away and meeting the Crown Keepers

[daisymbin]

45. "you really trust me with your secrets, huh?"

y/n drunkenly confesses to Chan after a night out with their friends

!!! thank you for requesting 🫶

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // chan's m.list

fluff prompt #45: "you really trust me with your secrets, huh?"

you’re tipsy, wobbling slightly as chan steadies you with a hand on your shoulder. the others had scattered after your group night out, and somehow, the task of walking you home fell to him. not that he minded.

“you don’t have to do this,” you say, words slightly slurred but still sweet. “i can walk home myself.”

“you could barely walk down the stairs without holding onto me,” he teases, a grin tugging at his lips. “what kind of friend would i be if i just left you?”

“a bad one,” you reply immediately, leaning into him like you already trust him more than anything.

the quiet buzz of the city fills the space between you two, and chan keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. your cheeks are flushed, whether from the alcohol or the cool night air, and you’re humming a little tune he doesn’t recognize.

“what are you humming?” he asks, mostly just to keep you talking.

“something you’d like,” you reply cryptically, then giggle like you’ve said something funny.

chan shakes his head, amused but also hyper-aware of how close you are to him, how your warmth is seeping into his side. he’s spent plenty of nights like this with you, but something feels different. maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him, all soft and unguarded.

“you’re quiet tonight,” you say suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look up at him.

“am i?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

you nod. “you usually talk more. always making me laugh. i like that about you, you know.”

chan feels his heart do a little flip at your words. he brushes it off with a laugh, trying to keep things light. “guess i’m just tired from carrying everyone’s drinks tonight.”

you narrow your eyes at him like you don’t quite believe him but let it go, resuming your unsteady steps.

“can i tell you a secret?” you ask after a moment, your voice quieter now.

chan glances at you, his brows furrowing. “a secret? is this something i’ll have to take to the grave?”

“maybe,” you say, and there’s a teasing edge to your tone, but your expression is serious.

“go for it,” he says, his curiosity piqued.

you stop walking again and turn to face him, your gaze locked on his like you’re trying to decide something. chan feels his chest tighten under the intensity of it.

“i like you, chan,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “like… really like you. a lot.”

chan blinks, completely frozen as he processes your words. you’re still looking at him, vulnerable and unsure, and it hits him all at once—this isn’t a joke, and it’s definitely not just the alcohol talking.

“you… really trust me with your secrets, huh?” he says finally, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

you nod, looking down at your feet. “you’re the only one i’d want to tell.”

chan doesn’t know what to say. his heart is pounding, and his head is spinning, but not in the way he’d expect. because somehow, despite the shock, it feels… right.

“hey,” he says, stepping closer to you. you look up, your eyes wide and a little glassy.

“if this is some kind of drunken mistake—”

“it’s not,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i was too scared. it just… it feels easier now. maybe its the drinks.”

chan feels his lips curve into a smile, his heart swelling with something he can only describe as pure happiness.

“you really like me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nod again, your cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

chan doesn’t think—he just reacts, pulling you into a gentle hug. you tense for a moment before melting against him, your arms wrapping around his waist.

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes searching his face like you’re trying to make sure he’s serious.

“is it okay if i continue to like you?”

“only if-,” he pauses, laughing softly, “only if its okay for me to continue liking you too.”

you smile then, and it’s the kind of smile that makes him think he’d do anything to see it again.

[undercoverdonderwolk]

can we also talk about how max has said his favorite number is 3 and also that he was gonna pick it as his race number (said that was the number he always chose for karting if he got a choice) but went with 33 instead bc daniel already had 3…….soulmatism

you’re right— you couldn’t even WRITE this bc it’d be like this is so cheesy :/

imagine the fic like “well they meet when they’re young and they immediately hit it off! one of them even sends the other a cute little message when he gets his super license, even though they’re not even really friends yet. and then they become teammates and they’re sooo close like to the point where other drivers are like i’ve never seen teammates so close before… but they’re fiiiercely competitive they even get in a few fights but don’t worry they always apologize to each other. but then one of the guys leaves!!! even though the other guy tries to stop him and get him to stay!!!! and they’re both kinda depressed about it to the point where one of them obsessively listens to the song barely friends by drama which that same guy references as the perfect breakup song like five years later and the other guy spends all his time miserable getting into the top 10 best fifa players in the world. but they remain friends like they get even closer even though there’s not really any point in being friends. they fly everywhere together and hang out on a boat together and they post each other on instagram and when life gets horrrrible for one of the guys at some point he goes to say that he’s sooo happy that if it can’t be him at least it can still be the other guy. but then the guy’s old team takes him back!!!! and they’re SO happy like they are giddyyyy. it was actually the other guy who first announced it that’s how excited he was. at some point one of the guys even writes down the other guy’s old number (the one he had when they were teammates) in the dust on a car which just so happens to be double his own number…. and they almost become teammates again and they’re sooo happy that they put the two of them on insta with a fred again song (i been gone too long baby don’t leave) but it doesn’t happen… but they’re attached at the hip down to the verrrry last moment when the two of them spend an entire evening singing each other’s praises and even though one of the guys is retired know they still hang out!!!!!!”

i’d be like ok. i’ll suspend my disbelief 716 million times for ur corny ass story eye GUESS!!!

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. fuckin’ and arguing, fuckin’ again. after you said we not fuckin’ again, never say never, just say what it is.

07, CHAPTER SEVEN. WE COULD QUIT DELAYING.

ju speaks. rushed to get edit and post this for you guys before i go out tonight but hey, they’re even i guess… the love shown for this fic is UNMATCHED, i love you all. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content… crash out p.

present day, june 2025.

paige: yo why you leave?

fr

you really just gon dip like that after everything i said to you?

read 11:12pm

i stare at the texts, the screen blurring for a second before i blink it back into focus. the strobe of my phone lights up the backseat of ana’s car, where i’m half-sprawled against the leather, her hand creeping up my thigh. my head’s foggy—not drunk, but just tipsy enough to feel audacious. ana’s lips skim along the side of my neck, hot and slow, and i don’t stop her, not at first.

i came straight to her job after i walked out of the game. i wasn’t gonna stay, pace the sidelines all night, pretend i wasn’t watching paige. pretend it didn’t eat me alive when i caught onto everything maya was telling me. showing me. so, i left. let paige have the last laugh (in her own eyes) while i drank my way through ana’s shift.

paige’s texts must mean she’s just now picking up her phone. took her long enough. probably had to say goodbye to maya first. the thought burns, and my fingers tighten around my phone.

“mm,” ana hums against my skin. it feels nice. “you’re so tense.” her fingers trace lazy circles against my inner thigh, lips grazing my jaw now.

i try to fall into it, but i scrunch my face up, pulling away slightly when my phone buzzes again.

paige: i know you saw ts

i do something? 11:14pm

bro answer the phone 11:17pm

i scoff, and ana’s lips pause. she pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyebrow raised. “that her?”

i nod, tucking my bottom lip between my teeth. “keep doing what you’re doing,” i breathe out. she smiles, all thirty two showing as she places a kiss to my lips before dropping to her knees.

paige: where are you? 11:21pm

i don’t think about why that’s her next question, i just stubbornly type back something vague.

nailea: i’m jusr out

paige: don’t play w me

out where?

who you with?

read 11:23pm

nailea: no one

read 11:24pm

i hear her tone through the screen—skeptical, irritated. i wait, expecting her to follow up with another question, but the screen stays stubbornly blank. no more bubbles, no texts.

i furrow my eyebrows, scrolling up the thread, reading her last messages again like i’m missing something. did she give up that fast? doubtful. paige doesn’t give up. she digs in. especially when it comes to me.

ana’s hands tug at the waistband of my shorts, and i lift my hips slightly, letting her pull them down. i yelp, smiling down at her when she pulls me closer to her mouth. my breath stutters as she kisses down low, everywhere but where i need her. she knows what she’s doing, and i almost let myself fully fall.

i almost let it go for the night.

almost.

and then i realize—paige’s last text, the one that asked who i was with—it didn’t feel like just a question. it felt like she knew something. she’s looking at my location.

i fumble with my phone, swiping through settings faster than i’ve ever moved before. the notification pops up immediately after i flick the toggle to off.

i’m probably only making her angrier. paige and i never stopped sharing our locations. not since high school when we weren’t even dating. no matter how bad the argument got, no matter how many times we called for a break up. i can’t find myself caring, though. i’ll match her anger.

you stopped sharing your location with paige at 11:28pm

paige: oh

😂😂😂

ight 11:28pm

imma ask you something 11:30pm

and istg nailea

she takes a moment to type, the text bubble going in and out, almost like she’s bracing herself for her own question. my head falls back against the seat, a shaky exhale escaping me as ana attaches her lips to my cunt, getting straight to work.

you with her?

i am. she knows i am. i don’t know why she’s asking.

nailea: why do you care?

paige: tf you mean why do i care?

are you with her?

somehow, the second ask makes me wanna be honest. the messier, the better. she deserves every ounce of what i throw back at her. my fingers hover over the keyboard, my head foggy from the drinks, from ana, from everything. i feel her pause for a second before her mouth returns to me, a measured dip of her tongue that drags the answer right out of me.

nailea: yuppp

she fucks me sioooo good p

could’ve been you tn

but i’m done

paige: no you’re not bro don’t say shit like that 11:34pm

call me so we can talk? 11:36pm

please baby

nailea: talk? like you talked w maya?

nahhhh i’m good

i know everything

you want her. go have her

paige: nai what the fuck did she tell you? 11:37pm

the part of me that knows better says to put the phone down, but the other part—the one paige always has a hold on—can’t resist. i need her to know what i know. i stare at the messages, my heart twisting in ways i wish it wouldn’t. the denial, the deflection—it’s textbook paige. she’ll never admit it. it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

paige: i told you how i felt

you KNOW how i feel about you???

you think i’d lie about that?

don’t let her mess us up

yes, i do. because you lie about fucking everything.

nailea: you tell maya you love her too?

btw her jeans? unzipped

i think i get the picture

a minute passed. two. three. i screw my eyes shut at the silent confirmation. she really did it, didn’t she?

paige: call me 11:41pm

my stomach drops, but i’m too far gone to care. ana’s hands grip me tighter, and i can’t tell if it’s to keep me grounded or to remind me that she’s the one here, not paige.

i drop the phone, letting it clatter to the seat, paige’s messages lighting up the screen like a flashing red light i refuse to acknowledge. ana’s name falls from my lips now, i let my hand fall into her curls, gripping her hair tighter, letting the anger burn out through her.

“there she is.”

i forget about everything else.

the beach looks perfect tonight, though i’m sure cam planned her and ben’s pre-wedding bonfire down to a tee. the weather, the crowd—everything’s falling into place. i’m happy for her. the fire crackles, sending out occasional pops, and people are lounging on blankets around it, standing, chatting in groups, soaking in the warmth as the sun dips below the horizon. it’s almost like a little piece of paradise.

i force myself to be in the moment, even though my mind keeps drifting back to the mess i’ve been trying to avoid for the past week, nearly two. paige. i’ve been dodging her calls and texts, shutting down every attempt she’s made to get me to talk.

i’ve been doing a fairly great job at it. dodging maya, too. but i spotted them near the pier, paige leaned against the railing, maya going off about something the blonde looks like she doesn’t wanna hear, and i’m right back in it. i furrow my eyebrows, as if squinting hard enough will help me lip-read whatever maya’s laying on her. but i can’t. and it’s infuriating.

oh, and ana? somewhere behind me, i think. i brought her here—like an idiot. i thought it’d help me focus, distract me from paige, but now i’m just starting to think it might’ve been a mistake.

“…you’ve outdone yourself. as usual,” rae says, and i snap my head back over to the conversation in front of me. i take a sip of my cocktail, the condensation dripping onto my fingers.

cam grins, brushing imaginary dust of her shoulders. “ben and i wanted something with everyone since the wedding will be a little smaller.”

i murmur my agreement as i take another drink, and i’m so lost in thought that i don’t notice rickea until she loops an arm through mine, dragging me away.

“hey, back,” i tease, waving away at rae and cam who didn’t seem to mind.

she leans in close, the smell of her coconut lotion wafting as she speaks just loud enough for me to hear. “you wanna tell me why ana is here?”

i shrug, and my eyes scan over the crowd until i finally spot ana by the cocktail bar. too far away. she’s been out of my sight for too long.

“damage control,” i reply, though the explanation feels like a flimsy excuse the second it leaves my lips.

rickea lets out a disbelieving laugh, tugging me a little farther from the group, out of earshot. “you mean paige control?”

the words hit harder than i expect, even in jest. my grip tightens around the glass, nails trying to dig into it. “she’s fine,” i say, but it sounds like i’m trying to convince myself of it.

kea tilts her head, eyes narrowing in that way she does when she’s reading you too closely. “sure she is,” she says, dragging the words out. her gaze shifts past me to the pier, where paige and maya’s conversation seems to have escalated. maya gestures wildly, while paige stands still, her jaw tight.

“it’s not my problem anymore,” i tell her flatly.

rickea stops in front of me, unliking our arms to cross her own, but the smirk stays. “mm-hmm. and ana being here has nothing to do with reminding paige of that, right?”

i nod. “right.”

the lie tastes bitter. because even if it’s true—if ana being here isn’t just about paige—it doesn’t feel that way. not when i feel the same sting of her actions that’s lingered all for nearly two weeks.

rickea studies me for a moment, her smirk morphing into something almost sympathetic, but she doesn’t press further.

“let’s just get you another drink. at the cocktail bar. where ana is.” she speaks in periods, and i shake my head, ultimately agreeing.

i let her pull me along, glancing back one more time at the pier where paige and maya stand like two actors in a scene i don’t want to watch. i catch a familiar set of blue hues already looking my way. ana’s name is still somewhere on my tongue, but it’s the wrong one, isn’t it?

the sun’s fully set now. most people are starting to head towards the house cam had reserved for the night for dinner and games she’d carefully curated. i can’t focus on the bonfire, on the mounds of people who would probably love to talk to me, or the stupidly perfect weather.

she’s over there, somewhere, and i can’t shake the feeling that she’s watching me, even though i know i’m not the one she’s looking at tonight. or at least not the only one.

not with ana here.

i push down the knot tightening in my chest and glance back toward the pier, where maya stormed off to just a few minutes ago. our conversation keeps replaying in my head, and every time it pops back up, it only makes me angrier.

“you’re not being honest with me,” maya had snapped, almost like she was sick of holding it in, and also like she was trying to keep it from carrying to anyone nearby.

“what the hell are you talking about?” i’d asked, leaning against the pier railing. i’d agreed to come over here to talk, and i’m starting to regret it. i didn’t want to be over here.

she gestured vaguely, her face flushed with every ounce of anger she carried. “you know exactly what i mean. you keep dancing around it like i’m stupid! like i don’t see what’s going on between you and nai.”

my stomach had dropped, but i didn’t let it show. “there’s nothing going on, bro.”

maya had then laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “right. that’s why you walked out on me at halftime to go looking for her, huh? that’s why she keeps giving you the cold shoulder every time you’re in the same room.”

she was grasping, but i couldn’t deny that she’d hit too close to home. “you’re imagining things,” i muttered, pushing off the railing, ready to end the conversation.

but then she’d stepped in front of me, her voice lowering. i looked down at her, quirking a brow. “no, i’m not. and you wanna know how i know?” she paused, waiting, and when i didn’t answer, she leaned in just enough to whisper, “i unzipped my pants on purpose.”

those words are still ringing in my ears.

nai walked out on me, angry and hurt, and nothing i’ve said since has convinced her otherwise. now i’m stuck here, catching hell for a mess i didn’t create. i wasn’t sure where it left maya and i, but it was wholeheartedly the last thing on my mind before i left.

i don’t even remember what i said after that—probably something defensive, because i didn’t want to believe it. maya had smirked, though, like she knew she’d hit her mark. “you can’t keep playing both sides, paige. someone was gonna call your bluff.”

i spot nai near the bonfire, rickea by her side. she’s wearing this long, heather grey skims dress that hugs her hips just right. she looks good. too good. she’s laughing, her head tilting back just a little, her hand brushing her hair out of her face, and for a second, it’s like none of it happened.

but i know her. i know the way her fingers curl just a little tighter around her drink when she’s tense, the way her laugh comes too quick, like she’s trying to convince herself she’s having fun. i know the way she’s avoiding looking at me. she’s pretending, and it pisses me off.

but then there’s ana. she’s standing by the cocktail bar, her long legs crossed casually as someone i don’t recognize talks her ear off. she’s everything nai probably thinks she needs right now, and i hate her for it.

ana doesn’t flinch when i slide into the space between her and.. whoever. she just glances at me, taking a slow sip from her drink before setting it down. her smile doesn’t falter, even as her eyes narrow, her stance shifting just enough to face me fully.

“well, if it isn’t the infamous ex,” she announces. somehow, the word ex makes everything remotely cordial i was gonna say fly out the window. “you always this bold, or is tonight special?”

i lean against the bar, letting the corner of my mouth tug into a smirk. “depends who’s askin’.” i glance down, then back up at her. “but you? you’re nothin’ special.”

she laughs, a cocky one, like i’m exactly where she wanted me. “you’re cute,” she says, tilting her head. “but you don’t scare me, paige.”

i furrow my eyebrows, but it doesn’t match the curve of my lips. “scare you?” i chuckle, letting the words roll off my tongue slow. “nah, i ain’t tryna scare you. just makin’ sure you know your place.”

her eyebrows raise. “and what place is that?”

“second,” i say easily, adding a shrug to the jab too. “always second. ‘cause you ain’t got her like i do.”

ana leans closer, her voice dropping to match mine. “you sure about that? ‘cause right now it looks like you don’t got her at all.”

alright.

the words hit where she wanted them to, but i don’t flinch. instead, i lean in just a little closer, my smirk widening. “you think you’ve got her? think she’s moved on?” i shake my head, glancing away from her, as if the ocean is more interesting than this conversation. “she’ll always come back to me, ana. you’re just a pit stop.”

ana doesn’t break eye contact, her smile tight now, but before she can respond, nai’s voice interrupts.

“ana.”

we both turn, and there she is, standing a few feet away, her jaw clenched, eyes not sure where to land, me or her. she ditched her drink, and i look to where rickea is, holding two glasses, and giving me a look like she knows what i’m stirring. i jerk my head up in her direction, as if to say, “what’s up?”

ana steps back immediately, her smile returning like it’s on autopilot. “right here, babe,” she says, moving toward her.

since when is she on babe status? was that another line to get under my skin? it worked.

nai doesn’t even look at me as she grabs ana’s arm, her fingers wrapping tight around her wrist. “let’s go.”

i can’t help myself. “what, no hello for me?” i call out, my voice etched with mock innocence.

nai freezes, her back stiffening before she slowly turns her head toward me. she looks like like she’s trying too hard not to give me anything. “you’re good at one thing, paige,” she says, her tone clipped, like she’s dismissing our talk as soon as it started.

i raise an eyebrow, my smirk deepening. “what’s that?”

“making a mess,” she spits, before yanking ana along without waiting for a response.

i watch them walk away up towards the beach house, and when i’m sure she won’t turn around, i turn towards the bar, stroking my chin.

“another, please.”

the beach feels different at night, quieter in a way that makes everything louder in my head. the waves roll in and out, and the moon is bright enough for me to see out. it should be peaceful, but it’s not.

everyone’s still inside, but after i told cam what happened, she offered me two blankets and a bottle of tequila to clear my head, and i, for one, wouldn’t turn it down. i can hear everyone’s laughter, the music. i couldn’t stay there any longer, let paige stare like she still had access to me.

i dig my fingers into the sand, cool and grainy against my skin, trying to ground myself. it doesn’t work. my thoughts are too loud, too messy, tumbling over each other in a tangle i can’t unravel.

i hear the soft crunch of footsteps on the sand. a pause. then her voice.

“nai?”

i don’t turn around right away, because i already know it’s her. paige. she sounds hesitant, like she’s not sure if i’ll even let her talk. maybe she’s hoping i’ll stay quiet instead.

“what are you doing out here?” she asks, a little too casually.

i finally glance over my shoulder, meeting her eyes for the first time since i stopped her antics by the bar. she’s standing there, a few feet away, her hands shoved in the pockets of her blue jeans, shoulders hunched like she’s trying to make herself smaller. i almost feel sorry for her. almost.

when i don’t respond, she asks another question. “where’s ana?” she takes a seat next to me, and the blanket’s large enough for the two of us. almost like it’s fate again. she wants to know. she’s still jealous, and i can feel the weight of that jealousy in the way she says it. the way she looks at me. like she’s waiting for me to tell her something she doesn’t want to hear.

“she left,” i say, not bothering to explain further. i don’t owe her that. ana has work in the morning, and i wasn’t gonna keep her here any longer as my rebound toy. not while i was already feeling bad about it.

paige exhales, and i hear the relief and frustration in it before she bites down on her lip. she looks down at the ground for a second, like she’s working up the courage to say what’s really on her mind. “look, about earlier… i’m sorry. shouldn’t’ve been bickering with your girl like that.”

i finally turn to look at her. “she’s not my girl.” her lips twitch, like she’s trying not to smile, and it sets something off in me. “that all you’ve gotta apologize for?”

she shifts, close enough that her knee brushes against mine. “that’s not what happened with maya.”

“don’t,” i say, shaking my head as i look away. “don’t sit here and lie to my face.”

“i’m not lyin’, nai,” she defends, leaning forward, trying to catch my eye. she’s almost pleading for me to believe her. “you think i’d do that to you? again?”

“uh? you want me to tell the truth?” i spit, and those seven words shut her right up. “i know. i saw it. her pants were unzipped. she was smiling at me like she got what she wanted. what the fuck am i supposed to believe?”

“me!” paige runs a hand down her face. “me… for once.”

silence. the kind i hate.

“you’re never gonna trust me, are you?”

“no,” i mutter under my breath, closing my eyes for a second, like that might stop the storm brewing inside me. but it doesn’t. it makes it worse. i hate how she’s still able to pull at me like this, how she knows exactly how to get under my skin, how she knows how to feel like home in a way no one else does.

but most importantly, i hate that she can do all these things, make me feel all these things, and still not be a better person for me.

she flinches like i’ve struck her, but she doesn’t back down. “you think you can trust her? ana? you don’t even know her.”

i scoff. “and you wanna argue with me about trust?” i snap, turning to face her fully now. it takes a lot of effort to not yell.

she shakes her head, exhaling slowly. “i don’t wanna argue at all, ma. just wanna have you.”

“just wanna have you.”

the words leave my mouth before i can stop them, and i hate how badly i need her to believe me. it shouldn’t have had to be like this. i don’t want to say it, but i know it’s true. everything else can wait. it’s her. it’s always been her. i just need her to hear me, to feel me—because she hasn’t let me show her anything in too long.

nai looks at me, her eyes softening just enough, and i can see the battle inside her—she’s pissed, but she’s still here. when her lips meet mine, it’s like everything i’ve been holding back for the last week and a half explodes. i sink into her, tasting the tequila in her kiss. everything about this feels wrong, but it feels right too. she’s still here, still letting me touch her.

she pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes narrowed but warm. vulnerable. it’s a look i know all too well, one i never wanted to see again, but somehow, i’m grateful for it. i hate how much i’ve hurt her, how much i’ve fucked this up, but i’ll be damned if i let her walk away without trying.

“what can i do to make you believe me?” i ask, my voice cracking just a little. there’s desperation there, but there’s also hope—hope i shouldn’t have, but i can’t help it.

“explain,” she whispers, barely audible, her lips still swollen from our kiss.

i don’t even have to think about it. the words spill out like i’d been waiting for the change. “maya knows. she’s… she tried something out, tested you to see if it was true. she knew i was lying to her about us. i didn’t—i didn’t want that to happen. not like that.”

her eyes search mine, like she’s trying to read through me, and it makes me want to break. shit, she’s so close. her body is almost against mine, and the urge to touch her is too much to ignore. before i can stop myself, my lips are trailing down her neck, tasting the skin there, trying to get closer, to make her feel how much i need her to understand.

“i didn’t touch her,” i mutter against her skin, my hands finding their way under her dress, fingertips grazing her hips. “i swear, nai. you’re it. you’re all i want.”

the words are coming faster now, and everything about her—her scent, the way her skin feels beneath my fingers, the way her breath hitches as i kiss lower—it’s too much. i don’t know if i’m trying to make her believe me or if i’m just trying to keep her here, to keep her from leaving me again.

i look up at her, my lips just inches from her own, and i can see the hesitation, the fight still in her eyes, but it’s softer now. she’s softening, letting me in.

“i shouldn’t have made you doubt that,” i whisper, my breath hot against her ear as i lean in closer. i can feel her body trembling under my touch, and it drives me wild. fuck, i’m so close to losing it.

and then i’m kissing her again, this time deeper, more messy. i don’t have time for any more words. all i need is this. her. me and her.

before i know it, she’s guiding me down, her hands threading through my hair as she pulls me closer. she doesn’t say anything more, but i don’t need her to. i can feel it—the way her body moves against mine, the way she breathes my name like it’s the only thing that matters.

and then i’m all the way down in front of her, looking up into her eyes, feeling her breath catch. she’s so fucking beautiful. i don’t care about anything else. just the way she looks at me, like i’m everything she needs, like i’m the only thing that matters.

“fuck,” i murmur, my hands moving up her thighs as i hike her dress up over her hips. i hear her let out a soft gasp as my lips drag over her stomach, leaving kisses in its wake. my fingers hook into the band of her panties, and i look back up at her for confirmation that this is okay.

she’s lost in it, finding my eyes once i stop. i give her a smirk, and she rolls her eyes. “yes, paige.”

“tell me you want it.”

“so badly,” she retorts.

i move more of the grey fabric out of the way before i drop my head again. she spreads her legs further, just enough for me to dip my tongue in between her folds, and sure enough, she’s wet already.

i wrap both of my hands around her thighs, veins poking through from the grip as i pull her closer to my mouth. i suck a little harder, lapping up her juices and pushing it right back in.

she arches her back, indicating i’m doing something right. “feel good?” i mumble, and she meets my eyes, nodding rapidly. i chuckle against her, teeth grazing her cunt, and she jolts.

“shit, paige. don’t do that,” she scolds.

“why not?” i stick my tongue out again, swiping it through her folds slowly before sucking her clit into my mouth. her head falls back, jaw open to let out some whiny, pornographic moan, like she’d been holding it in.

“gonna make me c—ha—ome quicker.”

when i slide a finger in, she tenses up a little, body rising to the sky, not expecting the stretch. “relax, i got you,” i chastised her, diving back in to mouth at her clit. her moans are like music i never wanna turn off, and i’m enjoying myself way too much to think i couldn’t do this for the rest of my damn life.

“paige,” she gasps, biting down on her lip in attempt to refrain from being too loud. i don’t want that. i wanna hear her. my name falls from her lips in a breathless moan, and i groan.

“say my name again,” i purr, finger curling inside her like it’ll drag it right out. “i love hearing it, baby.”

“mm, paigeeeee.” she drags it out purposefully. it makes me smile.

she quickly grinds against my face, hand in my hair pushing me in further. deeper. i place my free hand on her stomach, pushing her dress up as it travels higher, right over one of her tits. she wasn’t wearing a bra.

i groan against her again, continuing my assault on her clit. “you taste so good, nai. so fuckin’ good.” i feel her dripping from my mouth, out her hole, and i know she’s closer to the edge, closer to soaking this blanket up.

she brings her hand up to her chest, embracing her own with mine, adding just enough pressure in the way she likes. “just like that,” she breathed. i added another finger that slid in with no problem, making her yelp out, tightening her grip on my scalp.

“so close, p. just like that,” she repeats.

with one quick curl and movement, i can tell the tension she feels building up in her stomach. i remove my hand from her breast, using it to keep her legs open as she lets go. she repeats my name over and over again. it sounds like sin on tongue.

i stare at her in awe as she finishes on my fingers. they catch most of it, and i dip my head down to taste that too as she falls back completely, chest heaving, dress disheveled.

i give her a moment before i move back up. she stays there, out of breath, not moving once. i place a wet kiss to her lips, and she winces at the sensation, pushing my head away.

“gross!”

i laugh, and my chest warms at her smile, even through the dark. “you were right, you know,” i finally say, leaning to sit up on my elbow, like i didn’t just wreck this girl.

she rolls her eyes. “i always am. about what, though?”

“‘bout me being good at making a mess.”

[brainddeadd]

Yes Before Coffee

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting the room in a soft golden hue. You were wrapped up in Daniel’s arms, his chest warm against your back as the two of you lay tangled together in bed. It was one of those perfect mornings—quiet, unhurried, and blissfully simple.

You shifted slightly, and his arms instinctively tightened around you. “Comfy?” he murmured, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, letting out a content sigh. “I could stay like this forever.”

Daniel chuckled softly, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “Forever, huh? You sure you’re ready to be stuck with me that long?”

“Pretty sure,” you teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

There was a pause, and you thought he might have fallen back into a light doze until his voice broke the quiet. “You know,” he started, his tone unusually soft and tentative, “if you want forever, we could make it official.”

You blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in. You rolled over to face him, your heart racing as you found him staring at you, his eyes warm and serious despite the teasing grin playing on his lips.

“Danny,” you breathed, searching his face for any hint of a joke.

“I’m serious,” he said, his smile softening into something impossibly tender. “I don’t have a ring—yet—but I’ve got a whole lot of love for you and a lifetime to give it. So… what do you say? Will you marry me?”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you couldn’t help but laugh, caught somewhere between overwhelming joy and disbelief. “You’re asking me to marry you while we’re still half-asleep and I probably have bed hair?”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning now. “If I love you like this, imagine how much I’ll love you all dolled up.”

You laughed again, tears spilling over as you nodded. “Yes, Danny. A million times, yes.”

His grin widened into that trademark smile of his, the one that made your heart flutter every time. He pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. “Best morning ever,” he mumbled, his words muffled but filled with pure happiness.

And as the two of you lay there, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world faded away. Forever had never felt so close.

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 60

Wow we really made it 60 days huh?

Okay so i’m not gonna yap long for this part. You saw the image, you see the read under. This is a small comic adaptation of @vanadisvalentine’s “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed” fanfic. And it adapts the end of Chapter 4 which is pretty fuckin pivotal in that story. So if you haven’t read that fic yet I’m actually begging you, please read it and don’t let this comic be your first experience.

Second warning, this is going to be a long one. How long? Who knows. I haven’t written it yet, but this Day represents one of the biggest turning points in the whole project for me. 

When you click the read under you’re gonna get just the comic, and then you're gonna get hit with a gigantic fucking wall of text. I apologize in advance for the amount of rambling I’m about to do but I got a lot to say here.

Okay so you read the comic, you ready? Cause not only am I gonna yap about making that comic along with all the behind the scenes stuff, (amidst other tangents), but I’m also going to talk about the fic this is based on. This is probably going to feel a bit disorganized but i’ll try my best to keep this legible. Apologies in advance.

So your first thought is probably “Jem why the fuck did you do that?” and you’re correct for thinking that way. Rest assured, you’re going to ask that question again later but significantly louder and more exasperated in the future. 

Answer is simple though. I wanted to do something big for Number 60, cause every 10 images I wanna do something Big. For Number 50 I came out of retirement and wrote a fanfic and some art to go with it. So I wanted to go up. How do i go up? Well I am a comic artist, and making a webcomic is my general goal in life and what directs me forward. Sooo, why not a comic?

Okay but a comic of what? Well, why not a fanfic? And at the time the real answer was obvious.

There are Three Fanfics made for Junkan that are pivotal to this entire event. Without all three of them combined ya’ll would not be having Junkan art pop up in your feed every day, questioning what the hell is in my bloodstream to make me draw all this. The answer is Junkan, junkan is in my bloodstream.

I plan to talk about all three of those fics in this event, in as much detail as I can muster. That said not only are we going in reverse order, as todays fic “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed” is the last piece of the puzzle for why I went off the deep end and drew this much Junkan. But also the other two fics aren’t gonna be discussed for a long time due to their placement in the event order. I’m talking within the last ten days. Oops.

But at the time it was, pretty fucking easy to choose this one to adapt. The other two either wouldn’t really fit my style that I had been working with up to that point, or were just not made to be a comic without way more energy.

And as a reminder this was before I had actually gotten to know some of ya’ll. Within the realm of Junkan Val was the only friend I had. I did have other people who liked DR and were on board with Junkan after I showed them my supply and stated my case, but Val was the only person I knew at the time who was as brainrotted for this ship as I am, granted I think she has like, a normal amount of brainrot. I think by the end of the project I’ve fully snapped and now I can’t stop thinking about these two, like I have actually tried to stop thinking about them but they keep popping up. What was I talking about- Right! Point is, you can consider Day 60, or as I would call it in casual conversation “The 22 Page Junkan Comic,” my most excessive thankyou to her for helping me stay motivated throughout the project and playing a massive part in its inspiration.

As for making the comic.

It was a very bold mix of “I’m having the time of my life” and “Hell,” that's the shortest way I could put it. The longest way? Wellll

So by this point I wasn’t just showing these pics to Val alone. I had a few friends even before Val who I showed the art too. I’d get compliments and feedback and all that nice stuff that keeps me going.

As I’ve stated in the past (i think) one of the hardest parts of this project for me was the lack of validation for my efforts. I do not make art purely to be complimented, I make art in order to hopefully bring a smile to someones face. However I do still take a lot of joy when I see my art being positively received, it shows that my efforts were worth it. Seeing peoples reactions helps me remember why I’m doing this and that I’m doing a good job at it. So if I  don’t get a lot of that, especially on something i put a lot of effort into, it can be a little demoralizing. It’s something I’ve tried to work past during this year, but at the time it was a big issue. Day 60 took around 2 weeks to finish, as I was managing other projects and commission work at the time. The whole time I barely showed anyone, Val was obvious because this was a surprise gift for her, however the rest is because I was very adamant about not spoiling the Fic it was based on, and say for a single person amidst the people I would show these pics to none of them had read the fic. So I went from showing a small handful of people these to showing one guy (admittedly one of my best friends) for the span of 2 weeks while grinding away at the comic. It wasn’t until the very tail end that my girlfriend surprised me by reading the fic, meaning I could show her as well finally. 

Was it worth starving myself of a majority of positive feedback for 2 weeks when I haven’t had to do something like that for years? Oh god yes but we’re not there yet I still need to talk about the actual comic.

So when you compare the fic to the comic you’ll notice I skipped a decent portion of this scene, this is mostly just for the sake of not making this take too long, I think I picked a pretty solid starting point but also I won’t lie and say there isn’t a part of me that wishes I took like an extra week or two to adapt the whole scene sometimes. Sometimes.

Mukuro acted as the pseudo cover for the comic, both because it was a small detail noted in the scene that she was watching the door, and because I could call back to the “Mukuro Notes” bit I did on the Vampire Junkan comic, which seemed like a cute call back. I also used this as a way to skip past some of the initial dialogue of the scene in terms of adaptation. I’m really happy with how this page turned out visually, I remember having to fiddle with Mukuro’s anatomy and smaller details for awhile.

As you can probably tell, like usual the art for this was still being done as a sketch which I colored rather than what I do in my usual comic stuff, that being Sketch > Lines > Colors > Shading. I did shade a few of these pages cause I think the extra effort was warranted for some pages. I wouldn’t know this without like, actually time traveling to check but I think there was even a time this would be just uncolored sketches. Clearly that didn’t last because yeah, the chick who’s drawing 100 days worth of junkan art is going to make a 22 page comic and NOT color the whole thing, keep telling yourself that Jem.

Once again since I was directly adapting this fic like with Day 20, I tried to be semi accurate in what I assume Junko’s appearance would be, giving her the bunny and bow clips in her hair. I didn’t go all the way since honestly I think i would have gone a little crazy if I drew both characters in their actual Hope’s Peak uniforms for the whole thing, so I mostly stuck to their killing game designs with that small change to Junko. And yes, I did have to edit Junko’s hair to remove the bear clips multiple times throughout the first few pages because I kept forgetting not to draw them. For the first time having these two memorized was a hindrance. 

If you’ve ever seen me draw a Question Mark with a cross instead of a dot when drawing Mikan, it’s cause of this comic. Val said it was a cute detail so I decided to stick with it when applicable.

I think I have read the segment of the story this is based on like, 30 times bare minimum. Now some of those times were just because I often reread this fic to help me relax before sleeping, but the majority are because I kept looking at this scene over and over again so I could try and get every detail of this perfect. The posing, expressions, and other visuals, while a little rough around the edges were all possible after going over every paragraph to get the vibe as close as possible.

The dialogue is word for word, punctuation for punctuation ripped from the fic itself. Mildly difficult to pull off without having to extend certain pages, but in the end I managed to pull it off.

Page 7 is one of my favorite pages from the experience. Originally the visual was supposed to be Junko in literal chains of despair with Mikan coming in with a key to unlock them, however chains are agonizing to draw. Not drawing them was a form of self care, even if I think it would have been a bit of a stronger metaphor. 

Mikan’s expressions were very difficult to get just right in this, which was half the fun. Do you know how fucking satisfying it was to draw her happy crying??? Very.

Page 10 is another one I’m really happy with. I don’t know exactly what the original plan was beyond the fact that I wanted the shot of Mikan reacting to that being a lot more visually extreme for the colors and amount of space it takes up to make it as overwhelming as possible. But I went in reverse  and made the initial heart stop moment of her realizing that Junko just said that more prominent than the rush of emotion hitting her right after.

There were going to be more visuals of Mikan being cute in the following page, however not only was I struggling for ideas but also my energy was fluctuating to hell and back by this point in the comic.

It took awhile to get the initial kiss to look good because by this point I was still really figuring out how the fuck to do that. I can’t remember if I mentioned it but the kiss in the Vampire Comic is one I actually edited after the fact before the post was scheduled because it looked really weird and pissed me off. Luckily this one doesn’t bother me at all. I remember being super paranoid i made the posing look too sexual, I don’t know what the fuck past me was on about but I’m not here to question I’m here to curse you all with knowledge and funfacts.

On page 15 Junko’s blush and smile are a bit more intense compared to the other panels on this page while she wipes away Mikan’s tears. This is because in future stories by Val it is confirmed a few times that Junko has dacryphilia, meaning she thinks Mikan looks really hot when she’s crying. Yes I’m really working in details from other fics into this comic, you should not be surprised this isn’t even the weirdest thing i’ve put in this whole event.

Peak comedy that I mentioned the question mark with the cross dot earlier and on Page 16 I didn’t do that, immersion broken, back to square one Past Jem!

Junko with no contacts!!! I mentioned during one of the Vampire AU days that while I don’t feature it in that AU alone I like the idea of Junko’s real eye color being red. Something I can never remember whether it’s actually canon or just strongly implied. I think this is the page I put the most amount of effort into, both to make it look well lit, and also to make sure her god damn eyes look as pretty as humanly possible. The end result may or may not be my favorite page of the whole comic? I dunno

I said Mikan’s expressions were hard to draw for this since I wanted to get them just right, she requires a lot more work on the smaller details to make everything feel right. Junko however? Oh no I was thriving by this point, her more lowkey expressions do need a bit more thought and effort, but by this point in the comic I was in my element with her. 

But speaking of expressions, Page 19.

That smile on Mikan in the middle panel took 20 fuckin’ minutes because I had never drawn Mikan looking that happy and I had no fucking idea what I was doing. I did actually edit the page last night (as of the writing of this post), however it wasn’t for the expression. In the original version of the page, Junko looked really fuckin weird in the last panel, like I don’t know how I let that slide but her whole face and neck looked way off. These pages aren’t like, perfect quality but that one was just egregious. Also edited Mikan’s blush in that panel just cause I was already there.

Junko’s surprised face was very fun.

And I think if I were gonna ever redo any page in full for this comic it’d be the last one. I don’t think this one looks bad I just know that I could I could do way better nowadays even if I stuck to just coloring a sketch. Maybe sometime down the line.

And that’s the comic itself! I can’t think of any other fun facts or thoughts on the art itself at this point. Uhhhh, I guess the cover I made last minute for this post is technically a reference to a future day? What does that mean? Oh you’ll fuckin’ see.

So 2 weeks of effort with little feedback and rereading the same scene over and over again, was it worth it?

God yes it was.

When I sent Val the Google Drive folder with the comic I was jittery for hours as if I had too much coffee. I was nervous as shit over whether she would like it or not, since this was when I still was a perpetual nervous wreck with very little self respect who was viewing her as “Coolest Person Ever” rather than “That’s bestie.” I was also nervous because it was the first time I actually asked for a more detailed response rather than just letting her respond in whatever way she wanted.

But when she responded?

I have lived the past several years doing weed, I’ve recently quit (i think by the time this posts it’ll be close to 3 months since I went clean), but that’s besides the point. I’ve had mild highs, crazy highs, bad highs, good highs, sad highs, and highs where I don’t feel anything. 

I severely doubt that any drug or vice on this planet will ever match the feeling of reading that response. I was shaking, I bit my knuckles until it left indents for like a full hour minimum, an adrenaline rush doesn’t even begin to describe what I was experiencing. I rode out the happiness from this moment for an entire week, I worked on comm jobs that would normally leave me feeling aggravated as hell and did so with a smile because I was just that fuckin excited over it. This probably sounds embarrassing as shit but there have been times where I go back to read that response when I just need a pick me up.

I had a fuckin epiphany at that moment. Who fuckin cares?

24 fucking years (25 starting tomorrow) I’ve lived my life as a people pleaser perfectionist with extreme paranoia problems with absolutely no self esteem and a whole wealth of other mental health issues. I would feel like dogshit if I halfassed a comm even if it was a really bad one. My whole goal in life was to make a webcomic that would make EVERYONE happy, be a positive part of their week. I was paranoid about pissing off the wrong people, starting shit, how people perceive me, about what ideas for my comic would be problematic or not. But after this? Who gives a shit?

It ain’t about making People Happy it’s about making Yourself Happy and the People you can reach happy. My goal is still to make a webcomic that people will come across, and look forward to every week as an escape to give them some positive vibes every week, but I ain’t gonna do that if I’m desperately trying to appeal to every single person on the planet while trying to stay as uncontroversial as possible. I wanna make art that makes people happy, and if I make it the way I wanna make it then it will eventually reach the people that it can make happy.

But enough of that shit, the actual big thing that happened because of my complete reassessment of my personal values and entire goal for life is that I fucking finally stopped giving a shit about whether people were gonna throw me in a woodchipper because I shipped Junkan. And it will continue to get funnier and funnier that after all the time I spent scared out of my fuckin’ mind over what people would think, that absolutely fucking nothing happened. It is day 49 at the time of writing this and STILL I have not had anyone give me grief or issues over this whole project, nothing but support and even some new friends over it. You cannot write something funnier than that.

I think if I went back in time and told myself at the beginning of the year that her fears were completely unfounded she would bleed out the eyes and pass out, and I would laugh. I’d laugh so fuckin’ hard.

So yeah, this Comic and the reaction it elicited changed my entire perspective on life and being an artist, I can’t say It’s been perfect or that I haven’t faltered on certain things, but  I think to an extent I have been a lot happier as a result. Is it a little weird that this niche version of a niche ship is now directly tied to a drastic change in my mind? Is it any weirder than the fact that I transitioned into a woman because I binge read like, all of the Tokomaru I possibly could on AO3 and it made me think that wearing a skirt might be cool?

Alright so how’re ya'll holdin up? Drink some water we ain’t done. This is already getting up to 7 pages on the google doc that I prepare these posts on and now I have to like, talk about Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed properly. So bare witness to me trying to figure out how the hell to format talking about what might just be my favorite fic of all time.

But first lemme go reread the entire thing, I know the passage of time doesn’t exist in the context of these text walls but i’ll be back in like, a few hours to a day.

Okay i’m back-

I’m honestly not sure where to start here. Normally with my biggest obsessions I could probably go on lengthy rambles about why I love them so much, but this? I struggle to find a proper place to start, or even how to format this. I don’t want to just give a beat for beat plot synopsis while talking about the things I like, but also how do I talk about something this good otherwise.

So fair warning this might be completely incoherent at points, sorry??

This was not like, the third Junkan fic I ever read despite it being one of the three fics vital to me becoming the inhuman machine of pure Junkan brainrot that I’ve become today. A lot of things are blurred but if I remember right the exact timeline of events was Read a cute Junkan fic which made me think “Wait this ship can be soft and cute???” and then I read Smile by Kayleen, which is funny in hindsight because I really went to tooth rotting fluff to one of the darkest Non-Abusive Junkan fics out there (dark by my standards at least and I think my frame of reference is out of sorts). I think after that I just stopped for awhile, partially because Smile wasn’t finished at the time, partially because I still wasn’t sure how to navigate the Junkan tag to find what I was looking for in the ship.

Smile comes to a thrilling conclusion and I think to myself “maybe this author has more?” which is how I found Kayleen’s series of One-Shots for these two (along with separate three other pieces), I read through those in a day and would continue to check the tag to see if it updated, like, every day.  Eventually after a couple months (possibly way longer), something came over me and I finally started seriously looking over the tag to try and find more Soft Junkan, whether there were others I read before it or not, I honestly can’t remember. 

What I do remember is I came across “The Marvelous Makeover of Mikan Tsumiki” by VanadisValentine. I don’t know how I found that before the fic of today’s subject, if I had to guess I wasn’t reading the tags first on this run through. I was likely reading the name of the fic, and THEN i read the tags to see if it has what I was looking for (I wasn’t a starving animal for the ship by this point so I was a lot more picky with what I was willing to risk my time on). And this fic’s name was slightly more eye catching for me at the time I guess??

Fun fact when I first read this fic I wasn’t even sure if it actually was a shipping piece at first, not until finishing it at least. How? Poor reading comprehension is my only guess lol. Anyway, I finish that, loved it, and made my usual move of checking to see if the author had written anything else like this fic, and oh boy did she. 

This finally brings us to me finally reading “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed.” Took us fucking long enough.

It was perfect, it was everything. I fucking loved reading it the entire time. It had everything I could have wanted out of this ship without me even realizing what I wanted at the time. The weirdest part that my immediate response after wasn’t to go on an adrenaline fueled binge of the tag like I did for Tokomaru way back when I first got into Danganronpa. The most I did was read the other Junkan fics in Val’s library at the time. Otherwise I just stopped again. 

It was then that I drew the first three days of this event, the original sketches. I kept them a secret between myself and a small few friends, too paranoid to let anyone find out. And things just kinda stayed like that, for awhile. And then sometime in December, of last year I decided to give that same fic another read, and something just kinda, fucking snapped?

I went up and down the Junkan Tag on AO3, reading whatever I could, I was reading stuff I wouldn’t have ever risked reading with variable amounts of success. I only skipped a small handful of fics, including one that we’ll come back to way later in the project. Everything else I was scraping even the smallest crumb of fic to read at times. After that I scoured the tumblr tags, taking in whatever soft art or headcanons that I could, I went to Fanfiction.net, a website I still barely know how to fuckin’ navigate to try and find ANYTHING. I went to Deviantart to try and find any art or fics, no results not helped by the fact that it would include results that were slightly related. And not to sound like a Youtuber with no personality who’s built their career on punching down at whoever they can because otherwise their audience would see they’re a complete shell of a human being, but it being deviantart you can imagine what I was finding more often on that search. 

I even went to Wattpad, and that ones it’s own mini story that I’m saving for Tomorrow because the art for Tomorrow doesn’t have a lot of talking points on it’s own like this one does. But Wattpad had no fuckin results either.

I cannot remember the last time I had ever been this obsessed with a ship, this desperate. So, 100 Days of Junkan began, even if it wasn’t planned to be this big project. All cause of this fic turning a switch in my brain with a hammer.

Hey look we’re talking about the fic again, I told you this was gonna incoherent.

Anyway so the fic is just, perfect? To me at least? Before I had even realized why I liked the ship in the first place it did everything that I love about it at it’s core. It practically set the standard for the ship in my brain, at bare minimum within the context of a Non-Despair AU. And overtime as Val’s continued to write for these two her portrayals of the character are practically just how I view them at this point.

It’s not 1 to 1 but you can likely trace every aspect of how I portray Junko and Mikan whether through art or writing back to Val’s writing, down to even using certain pet names for the characters because of their usage in her work. I’d worry that I’m being way too much, heaping an overbearing amount of praise and respect. But also this fic unintentionally sent me careening into the direction of drawing 150+ Junkan pictures, learning various new skills and techniques as an artist, rekindled my love of writing (despite the horrors of actually having to write), making new friends both in and out of this community including some who I consider close, coping with mental health issues, and then performing this gigantic project at the tail end of the year. So I might actually be underselling this a bit in actuality. And don’t worry when I get to talking about a few other fics later in the project I’ll be doing my best to give equal praise to them as well, it’s just gonna be a bit sdlahfljasdfhas.

I’ve already said it but the fic has everything, at least of the core reasons I love this ship from the non-abusive perspective that this blog has built its foundation on.

To me I love Junkan because it’s two people that could not be anymore different from one another, who arguably should despise one another finding happiness in each other. It adds a new layer of depth to Junko to ponder how someone like her, whether in canon or in a non-despair AU like this could fall in genuine love with a total wreck like Mikan and how that would affect her character. It’s fluffy moments of Mikan getting to be genuinely happy for what might be the first time in her life while Junko showers her with affection. It’s Junko being fucking hilarious while Mikan can barely keep up with her humor and teasing because she’s so flustered. It’s Junko grappling with newfound emotions. It’s Junko and Mikan bringing out the best in each other and inciting positive change through their influence. It’s that perfect blend of hurt/comfort. And so much more beyond that, all contained in this one god damn fic. I might even be forgetting things I like about the ship too, there’s just so much that goes into this!

Obviously this is all specifically in a Non-Despair context, the Evil Girlfriends angle has a myriad of other reasons to enjoy the ship which I’ve become fond of. Especially in some of the parallels it can have with a non-Toxic Yuri angle of things. But that doesn’t really apply for today’s subject and I’m not someone who’s deeply knowledgeable or equipped to sing its praises at the moment. Maybe in the future though?

Is there anything else I can yammer on about with this fic? Uhhhh- Oh. I love how it uses the supporting cast. I think Val has a really excellent grasp on how to write Mukuro and Junko’s dynamic without dipping into the territory of DR3 where it just gets a bit uncomfortable. I think that’s better exemplified in one of her other fics rather than this story, but I still do love Mukuro’s portrayal and role in the story. This was my first time learning who Yasuke was, I hadn’t properly heard of Danganronpa Zero by this point so I was really confused as to who the hell he was. Certainly left a strong impression in the story though. I think Kaede’s sudden appearance and role in the plot progressing towards the stunning climax of Chapter 4 was really good! 

I very often go back to Chapter 1, 4, and 5 whenever I need to go to relax before bed. I’ve reread this fic multiple times as a whole but an absolute fuck ton of times as separated pieces, they’re so god damn soothing on my mind. 

The fact that I haven’t left giant fuckin’ comments on any chapter of that fic is quite frankly one of my deepest sins, but one of these days I’m gonna buckle down and write up on those because they deserve every ounce of praise in my scrawny lil whitegirl body. 

I think I’ve said everything I can for now but even now I feel like I haven’t gotten across how much I love this fic. It genuinely is my favorite fanfiction out there both just for the quality of it’s writing and the comically massive influence it had on my life this year. If you somehow haven’t read it by now, please do, if you like the art I’ve drawn of this ship over the past 60 days I can almost 100% guarantee that you’ll like this story. And read the rest of Val’s fics too! Please! 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[joliejoles]

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again.

When in doubt, Gomst kitty.

[uhhlifeig]

Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom - Nov. 30 - word count: 511 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The acrid smell of burnt hair wafted from the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. 

Remus Lupin stormed in, his robes swishing with every determined step and his wand clutched tightly in his hand. The bathroom looked abandoned, but the werewolf knew not to judge too quickly.

“What’s going on in here? Step out of where you’re hiding,” he said, frowning impatiently.

Sirius’s head popped out from behind a stall door, looking utterly delighted. “Moony! Fancy seeing you here.”

“Sirius,” Remus growled, his voice echoing off the tiles. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I was… er. Painting?”

“Oh, don’t you dare lie,” the Prefect snapped, storming over and pushing the door all the way open. “You think Myrtle wouldn’t tattle?”

“Well, that’s just rude,” the noiret muttered. “I thought we had an understanding.”

“What, you and Myrtle?” Remus asked, his eyes narrowing at the steaming cauldron on the floor. 

“Well, yeah. She doesn’t complain, and she gets to look at a handsome wizard. She even told me that if I died I could share her toilet! Isn’t that just splendid, Moony?”

A suspicious green vapor curled up from the cauldron, pulling the jealous words from Remus’s mouth. “Please tell me this isn’t for a prank,” sighed the taller boy instead.

Sirius’s grin widened. “I’ll have you know, it’s not. It’s, uhm, experimental.”

“Experimental,” Remus repeated flatly. “You’re brewing something experimental. In a toilet.”

“Technically in a toilet stall,” the dog animagus corrected.

The dirty blonde let out another frustrated sigh. “You don’t even know what it does, do you?”

“Well,” Sirius began, “I have some ideas-”

“Of course you don’t.” Remus cut him off, throwing his hands up. “You’re going to blow us all sky-high.”

“Relax, Moony. I’ve got it under control. Besides, you worry too much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

The younger boy glared at him. “You’re kidding me. Do you ever even think?”

“Of course I think,” Sirius said, shrugging. “I’m thinking about how hot you look when you’re mad.”

Remus froze, his glare faltering. “You- You are unbelievable,” he managed.

The noiret grinned. “Unbelievably handsome?”

“Impossible,” the werewolf muttered under his breath, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Sirius asked, stepping closer.

“This!” Remus gestured wildly at his boyfriend, the cauldron, the utterly ridiculous setting of a toilet stall in Myrtle’s bathroom. “Arguing with you, trying to keep you from getting expelled- or killed. I don’t know why I even bother.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, but wordlessly brushed his fingers against the other boy’s sleeve.

“That’s it,” Remus muttered, grabbing the front of his robes and yanking him closer.

The older boy barely had time to smirk before Remus kissed him, hard and insistent. Sirius melted into the kiss, one hand coming up to cup Remus’s jaw while the other steadied them both against the stall wall.

The cauldron hissed ominously next to them, but neither cared.

“Promise me,” Remus murmured between kisses, his voice breathless, “that you’ll clean up whatever that is before it explodes.”

“Mhmm, yes, Moony. Now kiss me again.”

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst ⇢ warnings: blood/injury mentions, a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places ⇢ extra info: this is the second part of a two-part fic, you need to read the first part to know what’s going on! this was released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) ⇢ author’s note: and here’s part two! ⇢ part one

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

The screen of your phone lit up from where it sat on the dashboard of Jungwoo’s spaceship, and you immediately grabbed it. It was Donghyuck, and at this point, you would’ve taken your bestie ‘SPAM LIKELY’ to get you out of here.

“Hey, it’s Hyuck, you got it here?” You asked Jungwoo, already on your feet.

“Yes, I’ll be okay,” Jungwoo confirmed, eyes momentarily leaving the screen to meet yours.

You clambered out of the hatch with haste, taking off into the trees. Hastily sending Donghyuck a text that you’d call him back in a minute, you practically bolted back up the cliffside to get to the road before doing just that.

Hyuck picked up before it could even ring once, not wasting any time, “Hey, how’s our pet alien?”

“He has a name,” you retorted, still out of breath.

“He doesn’t seem to mind when I call him that.”

“He probably doesn’t understand how derogatory it could be. His language might not have a direct equivalent for the concept.”

“Yeah, whatever, how is he?”

“Fine. All of his wounds have healed.”

Your friend’s tone immediately shifted. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You insisted.

“Y/N.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Sure.”

And so after explaining your situation to Donghyuck to the best of your ability, you waited with bated breath for his response.

“Oh my God, he’s going to lay his eggs in you,” he gasped.

“Hyuck! Gross!” You hissed, half-ready to hang up right then.

“I’ve seen enough alien movies to know where this is going.”

“Or watched too much weird porn.”

“You didn’t laugh at my joke, clearly you’re in crisis, sorry.” His apology sounded sincere.

You sighed, staring down into the trees below you that you knew contained a spaceship and spaceman that weren’t from here, that didn’t belong here. “I mean, he’s still fixing his ship to leave…”

“What if he plans on abducting you and taking you with him?”

“Stop it!” You scolded him again. “Jungwoo wouldn’t do that.”

“You seriously think he’ll just leave his mate behind?”

“You are way too comfortable saying that word.”

“This is not about my nighttime proclivities.”

“If I told him to, yeah, I think he would. He’s been super respectful, all things considered.”

“Okay… whatever…”

You were worried. Jungwoo had continued fixing his ship, but with each passing day, you swore he was looking worse again. He said his wounds had completely healed inside and out, but the pallor of his skin didn’t look right, he was moving slower again, and he didn’t eat as much at meals. You took a risk and took him there during the day today, not wanting to risk drawing out his stay on Earth any longer than necessary.

Just getting him down to the ship today was perilous, as he tripped going down the last of the hillside. A rock had cut his arm, thankfully not very deep, but the sight of the deep blue blood did nothing to calm your anxious mind. He let you take a second to use a first aid kit in the ship on him, but then was right back to business as usual, fixing his ship.

“How’s it coming along?” You asked, hovering over him worriedly as he sat on the floor, working on a panel under the control console.

“It’s almost done,” he informed you quietly.

“Jungwoo, you don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it the hydrogen? Or something else that you can’t get on Earth?” You went to press the back of your hand to his forehead. It was sticky with sweat, but simultaneously cold and clammy. “Shit, dude, you feel awful.”

“I’m—I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I just need to get back to-to Galaria.”

“Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Let’s get you back. You said it’s almost done. What else do you need?”

“One of your friends is a mechanic?”

“Yeah, Yuta. He fixes cars.” You were slightly alarmed that he apparently couldn’t remember which one.

Jungwoo held out a long, thin black tube to you. “Could you ask him if he has something like this? Twice as long?”

“Of course! I'll go right now!” You took the tube from him. “You stay right here. Rest, okay?”

He nodded, leaning against the panel and shutting his eyes.

You ran into Yuta’s auto shop, skidding to a stop and nearly crashing into a bench and toolbox, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop. Every head whipped over to look at you, and Yuta pushed himself out from under a truck on the far side of the shop.

“Yuta!” You dashed over to him, ignoring the attempts at conversation from his coworkers as you ran by them.

“Off-limits, assholes!” Yuta yelled back at them before focusing on you again, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Jungwoo, he needs something like this, but double the length.” You held the tube out to him. “Do you have anything like it? I’ll pay for it.”

Yuta inspected it with a furrowed brow, and you dropped your voice even lower as the sounds of the auto shop rose again.

“Please, he’s-he’s really not doing well. I don’t know how much longer he can be here, Yuta. Something about Earth, it’s not good for him. I’m really worried.”

“Yeah, I would be if I were you.” Yuta handed the tube back to you, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I gave him a part just like that two days ago. He said it was the last piece he needed.”

“What?!” Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

“I gave him a new brake hose two days ago. Unless he blew it up again, this isn’t it.”

“I’ve got to go.” You took off towards the door of the garage. “Bye, Yuta! Thanks!”

“See you around!”

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach as you looked down at the brake hose in your hands. You could feel it in the deep rumble of the pavement under your feet as you ran down the shoulder of the highway back towards the ship. You could feel it in your lungs as you sucked in air that smelled oddly smoky. There was no caution in your movements as you took the familiar path down into the trees. Sirens followed behind you from all directions, converging on the same place as you. But you had gotten there before them.

The ship pulsated with an energy you had never seen before, no longer dull dark metal, but thrumming with power, colorful bursts of light jumping from panel to panel. The reactors at the back that you had watched Jungwoo rebuild with his own two hands roared to life.

No friends to grab you and hold you back now. It was only you.

You lunged for the button that you knew would extend the ladder, throwing the hose to the ground so you could have two free hands to scramble up the side of the ship. At the cockpit, you held onto the top rung of the ladder as the ship jerked and lifted off the ground. You desperately hit the other button to open the glass hatch, dropping into the cockpit and pulling the dome shut with you.

Jungwoo was crumpled in a heap on the ground in front of the controls, not even in a seat. Thankfully, he took a small, shallow breath. The ship accelerated, throwing the both of you across the cockpit. You swore as your head impacted with the wall, and Jungwoo grunted as he hit another panel.

“What the hell is your problem, Jungwoo?” You chastised him as you rolled him over. “You tell me you’ve imprinted on me, then send me off on a wild goose chase so that you can leave without saying goodbye? And then you fucking pass out?”

“Y/N?” He mumbled, slowly blinking a couple times as he looked up at you. “That’s… you?”

“Yes, you dumbass,” you scoffed, pulling his head onto your lap as you were truly just relieved to see his eyes open again. “Now come on, don’t fall asleep on me again.”

“Mm… yes… it’ll be nice… I think… to die in your arms.”

“Christ, you’re so dramatic,” you rolled your eyes to not give away how fast your heart was beating, how sweaty your palms were, or that your hands were shaking with nerves. “You’re not going to die. You hear me? It looks like you’ve already put in directions back home, right? To Galaria? Please tell me this thing has autopilot.”

“Yes. Provided… there are no… unexpected emergencies…” He took several uneven, short breaths. “The ship… will take care of it…”

“Awesome. How often are there unexpected emergencies in intergalactic travel?”

Jungwoo was out cold.

You hung your head, letting out a deep sigh. “Cool. Great. Nice one, Y/N. Stuck on a spaceship that you don’t know how to fly. In space. With a half-dead alien. Stellar life choices, as always.”

You had no clue how much time had passed since you’d left Earth. There were no clocks—at least not ones that you could read—in Jungwoo’s ship, and your spaceman stayed knocked out, never coming close to consciousness. You got hungry at some point, but you couldn’t find any food, or least anything that you would risk eating this early. Maybe if it really felt dire. You hadn’t stocked Jungwoo up with supplies yet, you thought you had more time. Was he really planning on leaving like that?

A pleasant dinging came over the speakers of the ship eventually, reminding you of the sound that played over plane intercoms when an announcement was made. A computerized voice said something, but you realized you couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t make out a single word or syllable. It must be speaking Galarii. Nothing was flashing red, hopefully it wasn’t anything that required your assistance.

It felt like the ship was slowing down. You held onto Jungwoo’s lifeless body tightly to brace the two of you. He was still warm, and you took a small comfort in that.

With another jerk and cacophonous rattle, the ship touched down. You were pretty sure. The hum of the reactors died down, and it felt like the ship had finally stopped. Jungwoo let out a weak sound of pain in your arms, and you were on your feet.

You slammed your hand against the button to open the hatch with none of the grace that you’d seen Jungwoo use dozens of times. Tugging the transcoder off his neck, you put it on yourself before wedging your shoulder under his, planting your foot on a seat cushion, and heaving upwards with as much force as you could. Either the gravity on Galaria was different, you were having an adrenaline rush, or both, as Jungwoo’s body actually moved with you. You jerked both of you up onto the ladder, yelling in between deep breaths.

“Help!” Shove. “Help us!” Heave. “Help! Somebody!” Push. “Help!”

After the next jump, your head poked out of the cockpit. Immediately, you were met with winds that whipped your hair around and chilled you to the bone. You took as deep of a breath that you could, the frosty air feeling like knives in your lungs, to let out another cry, “Help!”

The lilac sky was barely visible through the snow that flurried around your face, sticking to your skin and hair. Two figures appeared through the snowstorm, approaching the spaceship, and you readjusted your hold on Jungwoo to lean his weight back on you to free up one arm to wave at them fervently.

“Over here!” You screamed. “Help us! Please!”

Jungwoo coughed, blue blood dribbling out of his mouth.

“Oh god…” You cupped his cerulean-stained cheek, panic flooding your heart as you saw the two figures stop in their tracks.

Heaving the two of you over the side in the quickest way you knew to get down, you slid down the ship, the fresh snow that had piled up breaking your fall about as well as Donghyuck had before. The impact rattled up your feet and knees, and you swore under your breath as you definitely heard something pop that had never popped before. Wrapping Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders, you started dragging him towards the two figures.

“Hey!” You yelled out at them, glaring against the snow and wind. Tears streamed down your face as the wind battered your eyes, and your teeth were already chattering. “What the hell are you doing? He’s fucking dying! Help him!”

This finally spurred them into moving again, the figures rushing towards you once more. As they got closer, you could see that they were human-like—Galarii, presumably. They were bundled up for the weather, goggles and cloth masks obscuring much of their faces from you, but as they reached to take Jungwoo from you, a sudden fear seized you, and you jerked back from them at the last second, tightening your hold on him.

They must have been able to guess what spooked you, as one lifted up his goggles and pulled down his mask to let you see his face as he addressed you.

“I’m Kun. That’s my aide, Dejun,” he indicated to himself, then to the other Galarii. “I’m Jungwoo’s brother. Please.”

You looked between them for a moment, then nodded. They moved to each take one of his arms and loop it around their shoulders. You stayed close as they trudged through the snowstorm with him, your worried eyes staying on Jungwoo. Your feet were entirely numb, and you didn’t register when one of the caught on something under the snow until you were already catapulting forward face-first. Your hands were tucked under your arms, and you couldn’t get them out fast enough to break your fall. Kun thankfully had faster reflexes than you, and managed to catch you by the arm, leaving you suspended above the snowbank for a perilous moment. He jerked you back until you got your feet under you again, and you mumbled out a thank you that was muted by the winds. Looking over your shoulder, your knees nearly gave out again when you saw the trail of blue drops that Jungwoo was leaving behind.

Kun once again grabbed your arm, and you looked at him inquisitively, coming to a stop as they did. You were in front of a cliffside by the ocean, which was in fact a cotton candy pink, no buildings in sight. The sea spray stung your eyes, made them water up, and you did your best to cover them without entirely obscuring your vision.

Dejun approached the rock wall as Kun took on all of Jungwoo’s weight. You heard a faint groan, and you weren’t sure which of them it came from, but you moved to take over where Dejun had just been. Jungwoo was no longer warm.

Dejun touched his own pendant to part of the stone, and you swore you saw something glow, but that could’ve been the refraction of light off the waves into your pupils, you couldn’t be sure. An opening formed in the cliffside, and Dejun ushered the three of you in. As soon as you stepped in, it didn’t feel like you were underground, or inside a cliff. It just seemed like you were indoors. Sure, it was dim, but pleasantly so, like it was evening. It was also warm, which you were glad for. You readjusted your hold on Jungwoo, pressing your hand against his chest for some stability, the right side of his chest, desperately hoping that maybe you could feel his heartbeat finally. You couldn’t.

Dejun didn’t request to take Jungwoo back from you though his hands hovered around you uncertainly, as if he were about to. You weren’t sure if you would’ve let him this time. Instead, he simply led the way through the sprawling home you had found yourself in. You didn’t pay attention much to your surroundings, only enough to make sure you weren’t going to trip while you carried Jungwoo. Finally, you made it to a bedroom of some kind, and Kun motioned for you to put him down on the bed there.

Kun took off some of his outer layers, letting you see his face again for the first time since he found the two of you at the ship. Dejun reentered the room—you didn’t realize he had left—also no longer in his thick parka and carrying what must be a first aid kit, handing it off to Kun.

“What’s your name?” Kun asked, his eyes focused on the materials in his hands.

At first, you couldn’t talk, your throat too dry from the cold air outside. You desperately swallowed and coughed, then hoarsely said, “Y/N.”

Dejun poured you a glass of something from a jug in the corner, and you looked it over. It looked like water to you, and you remembered that Jungwoo didn’t seem put off by what water looked like on Earth. You took a tentative sip. Tasted like nothing. It soothed your raw throat a little bit, and you drank some more.

“My name’s Y/N,” you reiterated, then faltered as you looked at Jungwoo. “I’m… Jungwoo’s friend. He crashed on Earth, we were helping him get back. But then he started getting like this. You can help him, right?”

Kun gently tilted his brother’s head back and forth, the prevalent frown on his features only deepening. “Dejun, some help?”

The aide came over, and the two of them lifted Jungwoo’s shirt up over his head. You gasped when you saw some bruising on his back and side, presumably from when he hit the wall when you took off from Earth. But the two Galarii didn’t focus on that. Their attention was on his shoulders instead, having a hushed conversation between themselves.

“Is his shoulder okay?” You asked. “Is it broken or something?”

“His joint is fine,” Dejun reassured you.

“Oh, good.”

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, eyes focused on your leg. “You’re bleeding. I think.”

You looked down at your still-numb extremities, registering for the first time that you had apparently been cut by something outside. Bright red dripped down the side of your left leg, and you held back the instinct to touch it in disbelief.

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologized, as you noticed a spot on the floor. “Uhm, do you have a band-aid?”

“Follow me, we’ll get it cleaned up and give you some new clothes.”

You looked at Jungwoo anxiously, where Kun was still tending to him. “I’m fine.”

“He’ll still be here, Y/N,” Kun promised. “I’m sure my brother would want us to take care of his friend too.”

Reluctantly, you went with Dejun into an adjoining room. After getting your cut washed out and a bandage applied, he fetched you some warmer clothes.

“Thanks, Dejun.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can I go back?”

“Sure. I’ll bring you some food.”

Stepping back into the room, you saw Kun cleaning up Jungwoo’s face and chest where his blood had begun drying.

“Can I help?” You offered tentatively.

Kun waved you over. “His head keeps lolling around. Can you keep him still?”

“Of course.” You sat on the corner of the bed, gently rearranging Jungwoo to cradle the back of his head with both your hands in your lap. Brushing some of his hair from his face, you took comfort in watching the shallow but steady rise and fall of his chest. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“His iridophores don’t look right.” You stated, able to see the reflective patches on his cheeks and shoulders from this angle. “That’s what you’re worried about, right?”

Kun nodded. “Yes.”

“They’re… dull.” You kept your hands where they were. The realization did nothing to soothe you. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t say.”

“What can it mean?” You asked insistently, eye boring holes into the top of Kun’s head as he was bent over focusing rather intently on one spot. “On Earth, one symptom can mean a lot of things. What can dull iridophores be a symptom of?”

“We won’t know anything until he wakes up,” Kun reiterated, soaking and wringing out the washcloth one final time. His eyes met yours, his own iridophores glinting in the lights. “Please, I don’t want to speculate before then.”

“Fine. Okay,” you relented for now.

The Galarii’s gaze fell to the pendant around your neck. “That’s Jungwoo’s transcoder.”

You looked down at it as well. “Yeah. I figured I needed it more than him right now. You know, considering…”

“Has he explained to you how it works?”

“Telepathy. Which he told me is apparently very scientific to you all, and definitely not witchcraft,” you snorted.

Dejun entered, a plate of food in his hand. Kun nodded towards it for you. “Eat.”

You sighed, pressing your hand to Jungwoo’s cheek once more. He wasn’t ice cold anymore, but still felt clammy to the touch. Maneuvering his head back to the pillow, you moved over to the table where Dejun had set the food for you. It all seemed food-like, and if your attention wasn’t so focused on your spaceman, you were sure you would be much more enthralled by eating alien food right now. But you could barely even taste it as you wolfed down a few bites, then a few more when Kun was still carefully watching you. When he seemed satisfied that you were fed, you pushed the plate away.

“Full,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

Dejun and Kun exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you know when he’ll wake up?” You asked. “Don’t you guys have like, doctors or something? Healers? I don’t know, any sort of healthcare?”

“His iridophores… doctors can’t help with that,” Kun explained, obviously choosing his words very carefully. “We have to see if Jungwoo will pull through on his own.”

“That’s it?!” You spat back, wide-eyed. Maybe your tone was a bit harsh, but you couldn’t believe that they apparently didn’t even need a real doctor to examine him to give a diagnosis like that.

“Y/N—”

“But he’s—He was fine just a few days ago…” You stared at him in disbelief. “We got ice cream…”

“I’ll have Dejun make a room up for you, Y/N,” Kun said, gently patting your shoulder as they moved towards the exit.

“Kun.” You grabbed his arm before he got too far. He turned around to look at you inquisitively. “I’m sorry. He’s your brother, this must be painful for you too. Really, I’m so sorry.”

He offered a melancholy smile, nodding. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, kept up thinking about Jungwoo. Finally, after too much restless tossing and turning, you got out of bed. Wandering down the halls of whatever cave house you were in, you turned your phone on. Of course you didn’t have service inside a cliff in another galaxy. Coming to a stop in some sort of open living space, you sat down onto something that you were going to call a loveseat, which overlooked a small pool of water that seemed to glow on its own. You stared at your zero bars, thought about Jungwoo dying, being on a planet in a galaxy far away from your friends and family, and for possibly the first time in your entire life, felt so lonely you could cry.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you buried your face in them, feeling so small and wanting nothing more than someone bigger than you to come in and make everything okay again. You dialed Johnny’s contact on your phone, just to hear the dial tone as the call didn’t connect, then dropped and hung up on its own.

You got the feeling that somebody else was there, and turned around towards the entrance. It was Kun, and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” He surmised.

“No.” You scooted to one end of the seat, offering up the empty space for him to join you.

“I can alter your device, to communicate with Earth,” he offered, gesturing to your phone, the screen of which was still lit up in your hand.

“You think so?” You asked hopefully.

“Yes. It will keep my mind busy, too.”

You placed it in his waiting palm. “Thank you!”

He looked at the glowing pond in front of the two of you. “Do you have places like this on Earth?”

“Kind of?” You said. “I think? Maybe? Is it some kind of uh, bioluminescence? Some bacteria or something that glow?”

Kun smiled. “Yes, exactly.”

“Cool. Funny, we have pink oceans too. Like, our whole ocean isn’t pink, but there’s small lakes and stuff that are pink like yours.”

“What color are your oceans, then?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Blue, like our sky,” you informed him with a grin. “Or, sometimes a greenish blue.”

“A blue sky…” He muttered, clearly trying to picture that. “I’m sure that fascinated Jungwoo.”

“Hey.” You looked at him inquisitively. “Is it really true that you don’t know who’s older?”

Kun chuckled. “It’s different on Earth, then?”

“Very.”

“Yes, Galarii children aren’t raised being called the older or younger child. Most families have their children very close together, so unless you remember your sibling being born, you typically won’t know which of you is older.”

“And school isn’t organized by age either.”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“Do you have a sibling?”

“An older brother, kind of,” you said fondly. “That’s who I was trying to call.”

Kun furrowed his brow. “He’s ‘kind of’ older, or ‘kind of’ your brother?”

“‘Kind of’ my brother.” You laughed. “Definitely older. We know that on Earth. And even if we didn’t, he remembers me being born, so…”

“Ah, you’ve known him for a while?”

“Friends for my whole life, yeah. He always knows what to do. Which is usually pretty annoying, but this time, I really need that.”

The Galarii with you nodded in understanding. “I don’t know everything, but I will do my best to let you speak with him.”

Kun rose to his feet.

“Kun.” You stopped him from leaving. “When humans are in comas, people say that they can still hear you. Is Jungwoo like that right now?”

“I think it will benefit him for you to spend time with him,” he agreed. “I’ll bring you your communicator once it’s ready. You should try to sleep tonight, Y/N.”

You offered him a smile. “Thank you, Kun. For everything.”

“Thank you for bringing him home.”

When you woke up, you couldn’t be sure if it was morning, but it was definitely brighter in the hallway outside your room. You were sure they had the lights set to mimic whatever the rhythm of Galarian days were like.

Jungwoo looked the same as when you left him yesterday, which was both comforting and disconcerting. He hadn’t gotten any worse overnight, but he wasn’t getting better. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, wringing your hands over your lap.

Feeling a little silly as you looked around the otherwise empty room, you said quietly, “Uh, hey, Jungwoo…”

He didn’t stir, and you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you contemplated continuing. Eventually, you did. “I don’t… know what to say. My grandpa died when I was seven and when my mom took me to his headstone after, I never knew what I was supposed to say to it. Not that you’re dead, obviously… I-I was kind of relieved when I got older and my mom stopped taking me with her to visit him. I think that’s bad. But it felt like I always had to pretend to be as sad as her, which didn’t feel right to her.”

You readjusted how the covers settled on Jungwoo. “I wish you were awake, so I could ask you what sort of funeral traditions you have on Galaria, or if your grandparents are alive, or about your mom. I guess I could ask Kun that kind of stuff, but it wouldn’t be the same. I-I want to know about you.”

Time passed like that, you having a one-sided conversation with Jungwoo. Dejun sometimes stopped in to bring you meals and check on Jungwoo. After your second meal of the day, Kun entered the room, holding your phone out towards you. It looked the exact same as before, and you went to pocket it.

“It’s fine, Kun, don’t worry about—”

“Try it,” he urged you.

“Wait, you fixed it?” You took it back out, looking down at the screen. It looked normal, except you realized that that now it indicated that you had full bars. Honestly, you were expecting some kind of alien technology to be appended to it, and for the endeavor to take much longer. “That was fast.”

You once again tried to call Johnny, entirely unsure and uncaring of what time it was on Earth. This time, it rang.

“Y/N?!” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and fear when he picked up. You gave Kun a thumbs-up and darted from the room to properly take the call.

“Hey, Johnny…” You were already braced for the scolding of a lifetime, certain that he was well aware of where you were. Somehow, he always knew. Who knew how long you have been gone from home at this point.

“Y/N…” He took a deep breath. “Just come home safe.”

“I will, I will!” You promised hurriedly.

“I sprinkled into conversation with your parents your destination bachelorette trip already. So when you get back, you’ve got to figure out which one of your friends is getting married.”

Not if, when.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Put Jungwoo on, I need to talk to him,” he demanded sternly.

Your throat nearly closed up as you thought of the scene you had just left, Jungwoo still passed out, his iridophores fading, untreatable even by Galarii doctors. “I can’t, he’s-he’s really bad. I don’t know what—I don’t know.”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s okay. Deep breaths with me now, alright, kid?” Johnny’s tone immediately softened, and he led you through a few deep breaths over the call. Once he seemed satisfied that you were a little calmer, he continued with the same soothing voice, “He’ll be alright. He’s back where he belongs, where people who know how to treat him can treat him. He’ll be fine.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you shook your head desperately. “They can’t, John. They can’t treat him. He’s—He’ll either get better or he won’t.”

“What?!” He asked incredulously. “He’s not a lame horse that needs to be put down. Who told you that? Put them on the phone.”

“I—” You sniffed and wiped your eyes. “Why do you care so much?”

Johnny sighed again, lowering his voice. “Look. You are stranded God fucking knows where. And as far as I’m concerned, Jungwoo is the only alien there that is going to want to get you home. So he can’t fucking die.”

You shuffled back into the room, thankfully spotting Kun still in there. “Do you have a transcoder?”

“Yes, is there something wrong with yours? I can understand you just fine.”

“No, uhm, Johnny wants to talk to you.” You indicated to your phone.

Kun raised his eyebrows, gesturing to himself. “Your brother wishes to speak with me?”

“Yeah. He’s a… doctor,” you half-fibbed. “He helped take care of Jungwoo when he crashed before. He wants to know how he’s doing. Will it work over the phone? The transcoder?”

Kun gestured for you to wait, then left the room for a moment, returning with a necklace similar to yours around his neck. The pendant was of a similar construction, but a slightly different shape and angles.

You quickly informed Johnny, “Okay, uhm, this is Kun, Jungwoo’s brother.”

The Galarii accepted the phone, and you helped him hold it correctly before he stepped out to take the call like you had. You kept your ears peeled for the worst, hoping Johnny stayed on his best behavior.

“Jungwoo, I hate this,” you kept talking to your spaceman in the meantime. “I hate not being able to do anything for you. I hate just having to wait, feeling useless.”

After some time, you heard footsteps outside the room, and quieted down before Kun reentered, holding your phone out to you.

“So… what did you guys talk about?” You asked hopefully.

“There may be one more thing we can try for Jungwoo,” Kun said, and you immediately got to your feet.

“Well let’s do it!”

He held out a hand to calm you. “It’ll have to wait until nighttime, I’m afraid.”

“What? What is—?”

“In the meantime, Johnny did mention that human bodies don’t naturally make the same painkillers that Galarii do. I apologize for not being aware of that.” Kun bowed his head apologetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“It’s fine.”

“He said you would do that as well, and to ask again. Are you certain you are not in pain? You cut your leg yesterday.”

You sighed, refraining from rolling your eyes at the man who really was just trying to be kind. “Fine. My head hurts a little, and my leg. And sort of everything.”

“Come with me, I can prepare you an injection. Johnny explained proper dosage and administration for humans.”

Reluctantly, you left and followed Kun to another room in the house. It appeared to be another bedroom, and he gestured for you to take a seat at a small desk. Papers were in neat stacks, and you looked around with both interest and eagerness to get this over with so you could get back to Jungwoo.

“Is this your room?” You asked as Kun pulled up a chair and opened a first aid kit of some kind.

“Yes.”

“Is that Jungwoo’s room that you have him in?” You watched him roll up your sleeve to wipe down your arm first. “Does he live with you?”

“When he’s on Galaria, yes.” Kun then brought out a small, clear bottle and syringe that looked remarkably like the ones back on Earth. “His ship is more-so his home.”

“His actual ship, right? The one he took this time was yours.”

The Galarii filled the syringe with a very small amount of medicine. “Yes. He doesn’t spend enough time here to necessitate having his own place.”

“So did you finish your paperwork?”

He nodded to the stacks on the desk next to you. “Does it look like I did?”

You laughed, and he reached for your upper arm. “Just let me know when you’re going to do it. My friend Yuta wanted to be a piercer in high school before he was a mechanic, so I have a lot of practice being stuck.”

“I already did it,” Kun informed you, holding a small piece of gauze to the site.

You looked down in disbelief. “Seriously?” And sure enough, there was an empty syringe on the table too. “Damn, I didn’t feel a thing. You’re good.”

Kun took the gauze off the injection site, a small drop of red blood on it. “You know, has anybody ever said that is a very alarming color?”

“I think that’s the point,” you chuckled. “To get your attention.”

“I see…”

“So what’s the other thing to help Jungwoo?”

“I have some work to get done before it.” He gestured to the papers again with a remorseful look. “How about you sit with him for now? I’ll let you know once we can get started.”

You bit your tongue to not take your frustration at the situation out on your host. “Alright. Thanks, Kun.”

Back in Jungwoo’s room, you froze when you were greeted by two big brown eyes blinking at you from the bed. Jungwoo seemed equally in shock as he rubbed his eyes, squinting at you uncertainly.

“Hey, you’re awake,” you breathed out in relief, feet finally coming unstuck so you could dart over to his bedside.

“Y/N?” He groaned and tried to push himself up into a sitting position.

“Easy, easy,” you murmured, urging him back down.

“That’s… really you?”

You offered him a smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “Yeah. Crazy déjà vu, huh?”

Jungwoo looked down at his own hands. “I’m alive?”

“Yeah, you are. It was uhm… kind of scary for a while there,” you admitted quietly, taking his hand. Putting some pep into your tone, you added, “But I told you, remember? I said you weren’t going to die.”

“I thought I was hallucinating and dying,” he deadpanned.

“When? On the ship? You could’ve been, I don’t know. What did you see?”

“You. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you.”

“Oh. No, I’m real.”

His mouth was set into a hard line as he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Because your ship’s autopilot worked and didn’t crash us into the ocean,” you teased.

But he didn’t even smile. “What…? Why would you do that?”

The smile dropped from your face as you turned confused. “Because I didn’t want you to die? Why are you… pissed at me? Is that it? You’re pissed?”

All the happiness that was bubbling in your chest had been soured with the unexpectedly hostile reaction you’d received from Jungwoo.

“You’ve never been in space— I—” He took a deep breath, once again trying to push himself up and succeeding this time as you didn’t stop him. You dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him carefully, still concerned with how weak he’d be after not eating or drinking for so long. “What if the ship had crashed? Exploded? What if it flew at speeds unsafe for humans? What if my ship didn’t protect you against radiation deadly to humans because it was built for Galarii? What if Galarii had much longer lifespans than humans and something that was a short trip for me was longer than your entire life? What if we made it here and you couldn’t breathe our air? What if—”

 “None of that happened,” you insisted.

“There were any billions of things that could have gone wrong, that you didn’t know and you—”

“They didn’t,” you reiterated emphatically.

“What if they did? Because of a choice you made for me?”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, putting some distance between the two of you as you felt anger start simmering under your skin. “It wasn’t really a choice. It was… I don’t know, I just did it. But it was fine, so just stop, alright?”

“Why did you come with me?” Jungwoo asked knowingly.

“Why did you try to leave me like that?” You shot back.

He suddenly couldn’t look you in the eye. “I was dying, I had to get back home.”

“I know, I was trying to help you get back home,” you scoffed. “I mean, why did you trick me into going to ask Yuta for a part that you already had, so that you could leave me without saying goodbye? I was ready to let you go, Jungwoo—”

“Because hearing you say that would’ve actually killed me!” His chest heaved after his outburst, his eyes were a watery red as he continued, “And you… that would’ve hurt you. And I couldn’t stick around just to selfishly enjoy another moment of your time if it meant doing that to you. I figured the confusion wouldn’t have been as bad as watching me die.”

The two of you stared at each other for several tense, choking seconds as his words hung in the air. You clenched your jaw, chewing on your next words, ruminating on them, before you swallowed them back down, sharp and bitter.

“I need to take a walk, because if I stay in here, I’m going to say something nasty that I don’t mean,” you spat out instead.

Kun found you by the bioluminescent pond again, a normal-looking water feature by day. You were crouched by the water’s edge, listlessly watching the water lap at the cold stone floor you were sitting on.

“Jungwoo’s awake,” Kun said, standing just behind and to your right side.

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “You heard us fighting, I’m guessing.”

“I didn’t hear what was said, only his voice. The only way I could get him to stay in bed was by promising that I would check on you.”

“Jungwoo’s been out for a while, he should get something to eat, and drink—”

“Dejun is getting him food and water now.”

“Good,” you croaked, wiping at a tear that had collected at the corner of your eye. “God damn it…”

 Kun sat down beside you. “You’re more than his friend, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I guess. I don’t know.” You picked at your fingernails to avoid looking at him. “He… you know…”

“Imprinted? On you?” The Galarii’s voice betrayed his awe.

“Yeah. I know it’s a big deal, like the big deal for you guys… but I don’t do that, so…”

“It’s been awkward.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Do you have a… partner on your planet?” He asked sympathetically.

“Oh, no, it’s not that bad, thankfully,” you sniffled and laughed. “It’s not that I don’t like Jungwoo, or that I can’t see myself, you know… falling in love with him or whatever. It just feels like I’m at Point A and he’s already at Point X waiting for me to catch up. Like there’s this huge gap.”

“He’s not in love with you, if that helps,” Kun informed you.

You stared at him blankly. “Huh?”

“Ah, exactly what I thought. Jungwoo didn’t explain imprinting very well.” Kun nodded to himself. “It’s not… instant infatuation, or love, or anything like that. You’re aware, in the back of your mind, that theoretically anybody in the universe could be the person you spend the rest of your life with, right? There may be near infinite numbers of people that you could be attracted to? Hypothetically?”

“I haven’t really thought of it like that, but I guess, yeah.” Without Donghyuck here unhelpfully joking about eggs, you found the conversation much easier to process. Or maybe you were just becoming desensitized to the idea, you couldn’t tell.

“Jungwoo doesn’t feel that endlessness anymore. His infinity is just you now. He’s not in love with you, because he doesn’t know you very well, but he knows that the only person he could ever fall in love with for the rest of his life is you.”

“So I’m at Point A and he’s at like, Point G, not Point X.”

“If your analogy is translating correctly, yes.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, mind turning over one part of his explanation. “‘Could.’ You used the word could, unless the transcoder is being liberal with nuance here.”

“Well, yes. I don’t think this is getting muddied in translation. It’s not definite that he’s going to fall in love with you.” He tilted his head. “I think that’s what is making you anxious, right? Feeling as though you have no choice, something has already plotted your life for you?”

You nodded. “Yeah… I think it brings some people peace, doesn’t it? On my planet, a lot of people have a god of some kind that they think has a divine plan for them and their life. That… freaks me the fuck out.” You let out a breathy, nervous chuckle, wringing your hands. “I’ve never liked feeling trapped.”

“You could leave the planet. If Jungwoo knew it was your choice to leave him, I don’t think he would follow you. He would let you go,” Kun offered. “We have more ships. I would go with you, personally guarantee your safety.”

“Do Galarii have religion?” You avoided answering his question, the intensity of his gaze, looking up at whatever was creating false light in the cavern, unable to pinpoint its exact origin past the hazy glow above you. “Jungwoo never mentioned any sort of religious figure, or prayed or anything when he was injured… That’s kind of when humans would’ve. Prayed for their God to give them strength.”

He took your conversation shift in stride, “We have enduring superstitions, traditions, but no sort of organized religion, no.”

“So this imprinting, it’s not any sort of divine plan, or divine will? To you all? It just… is?”

“One of the superstitions we do have is that of the finder’s intuition.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’ve found something, whether you realize it or not, you found it for a reason.”

“Jungwoo said something kind of like that about imprinting,” you recalled. “He said that humans choose their partners, but Galarii find them.”

“Yes. So for him to have been in that ship in the first place, which was not his, so far from home, and crashed due to circumstances outside of his control, on your planet, only to meet you, and it just happens that he imprints on you…”

“I found him.” You let out a choked laugh, covering your face at the insanity of it all. Of course Jungwoo had no reason to doubt why he had imprinted on you. You practically told him it was meant to be without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry?” Kun obviously had no context as for why you were laughing.

“I found his ship after he crashed and pulled him out of it. I found him,” you were still laughing as you explained, wiping at a stray tear that eked out. You didn’t know if it was from humor or misery at this point. “I literally told him ‘finders keepers’ talking about why he was staying at my apartment.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”

“Why was Jungwoo… so bad? When I brought him back?” You still needed some kind of answer. “You made it sound like you weren’t going to be able to help him at all.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.” You answered immediately. It was the same thing that made you get into his ship when it was taking off. Not imprinting, and not love… yet.

“I thought he was dying of a failed imprint,” Kun answered without hesitation.

“He can die from that?! And you were going to just let me leave?! Not just that, personally escort me out of the galaxy?! He’s your brother!” You shot to your feet, once again in utter disbelief at the conversation you were having.

“I never believed that you wanted to leave,” Kun replied simply. “I understand this is not entirely fair to you. But I do believe that you should understand the gravity of your situation. Again, he seems to be fine now.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “I mean—What the hell?! If we were to even like, be together in the future, if we had a fight he could die?! That’s fucking crazy!”

“No,” he reassured you. “The initial phases of an imprint are the rockiest. If it doesn’t take, a Galarii can die.”

“What causes it to… not… take?”

“Emotional turmoil, physical distance from the person they imprinted on, stress, any number of things.”

“But he’s fine now? You said he’s fine now?” You double-checked.

“Yes.”

“So it… took?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay, good.” You let out a sigh of relief.

Kun looked conflicted as he added, “I have a confession.”

You blinked at him. “…What now?”

“The injection I gave you, it wasn’t just for you,” he admitted. “I of course didn’t want you to be in pain, but for Galarii that have imprinted on non-Galarii, it’s been known for their physiology to sometimes mimic their non-Galarii partners. Johnny described to me how Jungwoo healed while on Earth and reacted differently to substances than he would have on Galaria. More human-like, from my understanding. And when he returned with a human…”

“That made you suspect that he had imprinted on me,” you finished. “But you injected me, not Jungwoo—And Jungwoo hates needles, and always knows where I am, so you thought he would’ve sensed me being in danger in his coma and woken up to protect me? Is that even how this thing works?”

“It’s not exact, what Jungwoo can sense… I doubt if I even injected you now, that he would know. Just, the feeling that something wasn’t right. An instinctual need to check on you.” Kun rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears flushing red. “I wasn’t sure if he had told you, and if I was wrong about the imprint, that would’ve been—”

“A horrible situation for all of us to be in, yeah, I understand.” You stared out at the water, thinking about how the one that you were in didn’t seem much better in that moment.

“You two have both been through a lot. I’m sure you’ll come to understand each other.” The Galarii stood up. “I’m going to check on my brother. Take your time, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Dejun found you by the water again later in the day. He was carrying a tray of food, meaning that it must be dinnertime already. You hadn’t budged from your spot after your conversation with Kun earlier, thinking way too much about everything.

“Dejun, hey.” You held your chin up with the palm of your hand, still staring out at the water. “Nobody’s looking for me, are they?”

You didn’t specify who would be looking for you.

The aide approached, handing you a plate of food. “Jungwoo asked if you’re alright.”

“I wanted to give him and Kun time alone,” you fibbed. “You know, they’re brothers, it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other.”

“Kun had state matters to attend to, he took his dinner to his room.”

“Of course, right.” You nodded. “Dejun, can I ask you something? And feel free to tell me if it’s way too personal by Galarii standards.”

He arched an eyebrow curiously, but acquiesced nevertheless. “Sure.”

“Are you… Have you… imprinted on someone?”

He smiled just the tiniest bit, and shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“Okay, thanks.”

With that, Dejun nodded his head politely and took leave of the room. You could only eat a couple bites of the food before you let out a deep sigh and stood up. You found your way back to Jungwoo’s room easily, knocking at the open doorway hesitantly. He was sitting at the table eating, and you were happy to see that he was well enough to get out of bed.

Jungwoo looked over from his food, sitting up straighter when he saw that it was you. “Y/N.”

“Hey.” You gestured to the table with your full plate of food. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.” He motioned to the chair across from him hurriedly.

You sat down, studying him under the lights as he went back to eating. “You look a lot better. Your iridophores… You look better.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his mouth. “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier. I could’ve expressed my concerns in a more… productive way.”

“You just woke up from a coma, it’s understandable you weren’t all there,” you replied graciously. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making sure I got back safe,” he said strongly, putting a hand on your forearm. “Kun told me what he knows, and I believe I’d be dead without you. Their sensors recognized that something that wasn’t Galarii had landed on the planet without permission, so they went out to investigate and found us. We landed in a snowstorm, and I was unconscious. If you weren’t with me, not only would they not have found us at all, but I would’ve frozen to death out there.”

“I was why you were dying in the first place, though,” you pointed out. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and you added, “You should have told me, Jungwoo. Back on Earth, you should’ve told me what was going on.”

“You’re right. You kept talking about wanting me to leave with good memories of Earth, I wanted to do the same, leave you with only good memories of me.”

“If you had really left me like that, I would’ve been worried sick for the rest of my life not knowing what happened to you,” you told him harshly. “And now that I know that you apparently were doing that knowing that you were just going to die… I don’t get it. I don’t get you, and I’m really trying to.”

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re not so… careless. I don’t know how I could have ever thought that.”

You took another bite of food, listening to the sounds of both your breaths in the quiet air. “Could you hear me? When you were out? I-I was talking to you, I couldn’t do anything else, and it’s supposed to help humans who are in comas, so…”

“Nothing in particular, at least not that I can remember now.” Jungwoo shook his head, but there was still a pleased smile on his face. “But I don’t doubt that having you nearby helped.”

“So you also don’t know why you woke up?” You asked tepidly. “It wasn’t a… choice somehow?”

“I remember being on the ship on Earth with you, and then I woke up here. Everything in between… I don’t recall.”

“That’s okay.” You both had finished your meals, and you stood up from the table. “I should let you rest some more.”

Jungwoo surprisingly agreed to this, the exhaustion visible in his features. “I wish we could talk more…”

“Tomorrow,” you promised, offering your hand out for him to take. “We can eat breakfast together again.”

He stood up on shaky feet, and you shuffled back over to the bed with him, helping him back under the covers.

“Could you sit with me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested, gently grasping your hand.

“Of course.” You sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of his eyes.

“Your hands are even colder on Galaria, I think,” he commented, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well shit, maybe it’s the frozen tundra outside,” you retorted.

“I… don’t mind…” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Sleep well, Jungwoo,” you murmured, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

You ate breakfast with Jungwoo as promised, happy to take part in this one little thing with him again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting with him at the table. He was already there with two places set when you entered.

“Better than yesterday, not as good as tomorrow,” he told you brightly. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, good.” You continued watching him carefully as he ate. “You really feel better?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then do you think… do you think it took?” You pushed some food around on your plate awkwardly. “Would you even know that?”

Jungwoo set his utensil down, easing back in his chair slowly. “Yes, I think it took. How does that make you feel?”

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you answered honestly. “The rest… Like I said, I’m trying to understand you, but I just don’t get it.”

“Ask me anything you’d like. Please.”

“I mean, doesn’t it seem unfair? That I’m apparently your soulmate, but you’re not mine?”

“Unfair to who? You or me?”

You faltered. “What?”

“I do understand how this would seem unfair to you—That I know that you’re my soulmate, but you don’t have that certainty about me,” he shook his head sorrowfully. “Yes, that must be terrible.”

“No, I meant unfair to you. You’re stuck with me. You don’t get a choice. But I do, I don’t have that sort of obligation to you,” you pointed out, shifting forward in your chair. “Doesn’t that make you… anxious?”

“Ah, I get it now.” Jungwoo nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he too sat up. “Galarii find, humans pick. I wouldn’t want to take that choice away from you. I… understand now, how important it is to you. So, if you do pick me, that’ll be the happiest day of my life. And every day after that that you wake up and pick me again, will be the new happiest day of my life.”

He held his hand out on the tabletop between the two of you, palm up, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you. Not urging, not impatient. You knew he would withdraw it if you turned away.

“You’re really…” You kept looking between him and his hand, keeping your tone curious. “Finding was good enough for you?”

“Good enough?” He chuckled, not derisively but fondly. “It was even better than I imagined.”

“You were half-dead, when I pulled you out of that ship,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I was.”

“Galarii find, humans pick,” you repeated. “Just like you wouldn’t want to take my choice away from me, it would be wrong to force a choice like that onto you… But isn’t inaction just as much of a decision?”

Jungwoo’s smile only grew. “If it is, it’s one that I already made. I hope you can respect that, just as I’ll respect whatever you choose to do.”

You placed your hand atop his, offering him a hesitant smile. “This is me choosing to try this out. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” He squeezed your hand gently. “Thank you. Once I’m better I’ll take you home and take you on real dates there. I promise.”

“So Galarii date too? I thought you guys would’ve just gone straight to moving in,” you joked, taking a bite of your food.

“No. I watched movies with Taeyong and Doyoung,” he explained. “Galarii spend quality time with their mate, yes, but the concept of going on ‘dates’ like humans to figure out if you’re compatible… we don’t have anything quite like that.”

“Of course those two took you to some sappy romantic movies,” you snickered. “I don’t need any big romantic public gestures, Jungwoo. Falling out of the sky and almost dying twice was plenty, I swear.”

“Your friends all said something similar.”

“They were giving you tips on how to flirt with me?”

“Yes. It seemed they were aware that I cared for you in some way…”

You burst out laughing, covering your face in embarrassment. “Oh God, I’m so sorry about them. Forget everything they said, whatever it was.”

“So, carnations aren’t your favorite flower?”

“Hold on, that’s real advice, who told you that?”

“Taeyong.”

“Okay, you can trust whatever Taeyong told you, and probably Doyoung, and maybe Jaehyun,” you counted them off on your fingers. “But forget everything that anybody else told you.”

“I will,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Some of it didn’t seem like very sound advice anyway.”

A couple days later, and Jungwoo was well enough to leave his room finally. The two of you walked around the house arm in arm, chatting about this or that.

“This is the longest I’ve been on Galaria in quite some time,” he mused.

“Kun said that you don’t stay for very long, so you don’t have your own place,” you said. “Don’t you get lonely? Not being around your friends or family?”

“Have you seen either of us have any visitors while you’ve been here? Aside from Dejun?”

“Well, no.”

“We don’t see other Galarii much during snow season,” he explained. “It’s less lonely out doing runs, actually. Interacting with customers, going to markets, busy cities… crash-landing on planets and being pulled from the wreckage by a beautiful human and her friends.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder into his as he smiled down at you. “But seriously, you guys don’t have tunnels connecting your homes or something?”

“Galaria’s crust is very thin compared to other rocky planets. We wouldn’t have the depth to build an elaborate system like that. At least not a very efficient one. Any transport that happens needs to be on the surface.”

“How do you all communicate during snow season then? Do you have phones too?”

“We have similar communication devices, yes.”

“How long is snow season?”

“Approximately half a Galarian year.”

You looked up at him curiously. “So what do you call the other half of the year, then?”

“We have two more seasons: Snowmelt, and newgreen.”

“I think I can guess what happens in each of those…” You joked.

“Do tell.”

“I think the snow melts, and then new green stuff grows.”

He chuckled fondly. “That’s the basics, yes.”

“But do you not have something between newgreen and snow season? Like a-a fall of some kind?” You were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. “We have four seasons for the most part: Spring, everything grows, kind of like newgreen I think; then in summer, it gets hotter but pretty much everything stays alive; then in fall it starts getter colder and things start dying off; then we have winter, and everything is dead or hibernating. Then it’s spring again and everything starts all over.”

Jungwoo listened with interest to your explanation before answering. “Snow season comes very rapidly each year. All the plants freeze at once in the first blizzard. There’s no time for a gradual decay like you’ve described.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you able to predict when the first blizzard is? Do you have like, meteorologists or something?”

“Yes, we’re able to narrow it down rather precisely and prepare.”

“And do most Galarii live alone like Kun?” You asked quietly. “I feel like if I was going to be stuck underground for half the year, unable to visit anybody, I might live with more than just one or two people.”

Jungwoo put a finger over his mouth, then nodded towards his room that the two of you had unwittingly looped back around to. He shut the door behind you, and you sat at the table together before he continued with your conversation, “Do you remember how I said my brother is controversial, not for any policies, but for something in his personal life?”

It felt like a lifetime ago, the first conversation you ever had. You nodded. “Yes.”

“Kun is very dedicated to his job.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He doesn’t take many breaks, or attend social functions that are not required by his job, or, as you’ve pointed out, live with anybody except his aide and me, sometimes. Galarii typically do live in larger social centers during snow season. There’re no tunnels connecting these niches to each other, like I said before, but some can fit up to twenty or thirty people.”

“And you, Kun, and Dejun just have your own house,” you reiterated. “How would that make him so controversial that somebody would want to kill him?”

“Some Galarii see him as isolationist. Refusing to allow opportunities to find things. They believe it reflects poorly on his ability to lead.”

Your face screwed up with confusion. “But if you’re looking to find something, that’s no longer serendipity, that’s choice. That’s action. I thought the whole point was the inaction. Of you finding something when you weren’t looking?”

“Galarii have different interpretations of finder’s intuition, and what it means to ‘find’ something,” he sighed. “It’s a very small minority that see this as a flaw of his, but those that do feel very strongly about it.”

“Strong enough to try to kill him?” You felt like you were losing your mind trying to comprehend this.

“Apparently.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before giving up. “You know what? Humans have definitely killed for much less; I don’t have any ground to stand on here.”

“That reminds me—I believe I’ll be well enough to take you home in two more days. I’m excited to show you my ship.”

“Really?” You focused him with a doubtful gaze. “I don’t want you pushing yourself for my sake, Jungwoo. I can wait.”

“Thank you. I assure you I’m being sincere. If I’m not at my best, that can pose a hazard to your safety.”

You sighed and put your head on his shoulder. “While I wish the reasons were a little more concerned for your wellbeing too, I appreciate the honesty.”

Jungwoo gently rested his head against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Wanting me to live,” he said softly. “When you found me on Earth, when you brought me back to Galaria… Thank you.”

You picked your head back up to look at him incredulously. “What? Why would I want anything else? Why would I want you to die?”

“It’s very rare for Galarii to imprint on other species. And those who do, there haven’t been very many that take…”

“They died?”

“Yes.” He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the material over his lap. “It’s even a common subject of Galarian stories. It’s… tragically romantic, to die so your mate can be happy with whoever they’re really in love with.”

You could feel the deep frown on your face as you listened to this. “But those are just stories. Characters live or die to explore narrative themes and emotions and societal concepts, not to be an example for real life.”

Jungwoo chuckled lightly, tracing a fingertip over one of the lines on your forehead, encouraging you to relax your face again. “That’s why I’m thanking you. You chose a different fate for me than the one I had accepted.”

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

“Immortality here I come,” he joked, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, then even lower, your jawline, your neck, until he picked up the transcoder from where it rested on your chest. He stared at it in wonder, as if it wasn’t his own piece of technology.

“You don’t mind, right?” You looked down at the pendant as well. “That I took your transcoder? I figured it would be easier for me to wear one than expect everyone else to…”

“No, of course not.” He dropped the jewelry again. “I’m just… very happy that it works for you.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“They have to be specially made for the Galarii who is going to wear it. Galarii can’t borrow each other’s transcoders.”

“Does it have something to do with the telepathy?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve never seen someone be able to wear someone else’s transcoder successfully.”

“Not even Galarii that imprint on each other?” You asked curiously, habitually gracing your own fingertips over the device.

“No, not even then.”

“Maybe it’s a human thing.”

“Maybe,” Jungwoo hummed noncommittally.

Two Galarian days later, and you and Jungwoo were ready to go back to Earth.

“Thank you so much, Kun,” you hugged your host goodbye. “Please stay safe.”

He looked confused as he released you from the hug. “Aren’t I supposed to be telling you that?”

You patted his arm. “I mean it.”

“Very well,” he relented with a smile. “Thank you, and the same for you.”

After you and Dejun had exchanged your goodbyes, you saw that Kun and Jungwoo were still embracing, and stood off to the side to wait patiently. Kun seemed to be half-hugging and half-lecturing Jungwoo, cuffing him by the ear to pull him down to his height as he spoke on and on seriously, and Jungwoo nodded or gave a joking whine every so often.

“Kun’s older,” you leaned over to whisper to Dejun.

“You’re guessing?” The aide whispered back.

“You can call it a hunch, yeah.”

Finally, Kun let Jungwoo go, and he straightened up, fixing his clothes with the help of his brother. You and Jungwoo didn’t have very much in terms of luggage to take—Jungwoo kept his personal belongings on his ship, and you came with nothing but your clothes and your phone. Kun and Dejun had given you more appropriate outer layers for the tundra outside, as well as food and supplies for the flight back to Earth, but really your only souvenir was your now extraterrestrially-modified cellphone.

“Ready?” Jungwoo asked you, carrying the small knapsack of supplies on his back.

You pulled your goggles down over your face and gave him the best thumbs-up you could with the thick gloves you had on. “Ready!”

You caught just a glimpse of his eyes crinkling with a smile before he too put his goggles on. Jungwoo clasped your hand as Dejun reached out towards the smooth face of the front door. This time you were able to properly see as he touched his necklace to a small panel that reminded you of the buttons on their spaceships, and a small yellow glow emanated from where they connected. Then, the door slid aside, into the cavern wall. You and Jungwoo stepped out together, the door shutting silently behind you.

Keeping a tight hold to Jungwoo’s hand and arm, you followed him through the snow that had continued building up. There was none actively falling now, giving you a much clearer view of the lilac expanse above. Despite the sameness of the landscape, Jungwoo seemed to know exactly where he was going. You didn’t realize you had arrived anywhere specific until Jungwoo suddenly stopped at one specific hill, brushing aside some snow on a post. You couldn’t read the writing on it, but he seemed satisfied, pulling it down. A small hatch opened in the snow in front of you, and he quickly ushered you over to it. Gesturing for you to wait a moment, he dropped the pack down first, then climbed down after it. From the bottom, he waved you down. You slowly started lowering yourself down as well, Jungwoo waiting right there for you.

Buried under who knows how much snow, your eyes had to acclimate to the darkness again. You had found yourself in the rear of Jungwoo’s ship, and he closed the hatch back up after you before pulling you towards the cockpit at the front. It was a two-seater like the one that he had borrowed from Kun, but you could immediately tell there was a lot more of a personal touch to this one. It was sleeker, the controls looking newer than the other, and you saw the occasional knickknack, notepad, or even piece of clothing strewn about the cockpit. He moved a jacket that had been hanging off the co-pilot seat then gestured to it for you.

You sat down as Jungwoo started preparing the ship for takeoff, still thinking about the mounds of snow atop you. Taking your goggles and mask off like he had, you asked, “What about all the snow?”

“The energy generated from the ship’s reactors melts it by the time we take off,” he explained, continuing to flip switches and push buttons.

“Wow.” You watched him work with a practiced ease and focus.

Finally, he turned back around to you, leaning in close as he dug around in the seat for your seatbelt. He grinned as he buckled it up and tightened it for you. “Can’t forget—Precious cargo.”

You just shook your head and smiled as he laughed and sat in his own seat. After getting himself situated, you two were ready for takeoff.

Jungwoo looked over at you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”

You grabbed it, squeezing it tightly as you nodded. “Ready.”

“Let’s go!” He cheered, joyfully slamming his hand down on a button. A countdown started on the monitors and from the speakers, and this time you could understand the announcement. It counted down from 10, and on 1, the reactors changed from a thrum to a full-on blast, and like when you took off from Earth, the ground lurched out from under you again. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when you left Galaria, though, only when the reactors cooled back down to a hum.

You looked back over to Jungwoo expectantly. He unbuckled himself, a bright grin on his face. “We’re out of Galarian space.”

“Cool,” you breathed out, looking around the ship with wide eyes.

The Galarii started unbuckling you as well, pulling you to your feet. “Come on, I’ve got to show you around my ship!”

Maybe it was because you were in a different ship, maybe it was because you were no longer fearing for Jungwoo’s life, you couldn’t be sure, but the trip back to Earth felt a lot shorter than the trip to Galaria. This time, you directed Jungwoo to land on Johnny’s family farm just outside the city. Johnny’s parents were older and no longer kept livestock in one of the barns on the property, making it the perfect place to hide Jungwoo’s ship while it was there.

It was nighttime when you arrived, and Jungwoo effortlessly landed in the far-off field that you had been to many times when visiting Johnny’s grandparents growing up. He maneuvered into the open barn, and you were buzzing with excitement as he powered down the ship.

This time, he let you exit the hatch first, and you looked around eagerly, immediately spotting your two friends by the now-closed doors. You waved to Johnny and Jaehyun, sliding off the side of the ship to land easily on both feet.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around him first.

“Y/N, oh my God,” Johnny breathed out, crushing you to him so tightly the air was knocked from your lungs. “God damn it, kid, don’t do that again. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” you coughed out your agreement, rubbing his back reassuringly.

“You’re late, you know that?” He continued scolding you even as he cradled the back of your head. “You said five days, we’ve been waiting here for two more days. I tried to call.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried to guess as best I could. The days must be more different than I thought,” you mumbled into his shirt. “My phone died when we were coming back. I’m sorry for worrying you. Thank you for waiting, John. Thank you.”

When he finally let you go, you were grabbed in a bear hug by Jaehyun. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N. We both are.”

“Thanks, Jae,” you let out a sigh of relief at being able to breathe a little better. “I missed you guys.”

“How are you doing, Jungwoo?” Jaehyun turned to the Galarii next. “Johnny said it sounded pretty bad, but you’re looking alright to me.”

Jungwoo nodded, the transcoder now dangling from his neck. “I’m healed now. Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“Good to hear, dude.” Jaehyun hugged him too. “Good to hear.”

“Thanks, Jungwoo.” Johnny offered his hand out for Jungwoo to shake. “I’m glad you pulled through. Really.”

“What did you tell your parents?” You asked Johnny nervously. “About the barn?”

“I said one of my friends was going to keep a boat here for a few days. Their knees aren’t good enough to come all the way out here, they won’t come looking.” He then looked at you pointedly, “You should make an appearance, Y/N. While you’re here.”

“Are they up now?”

He looked at his watch. “Yeah. Your parents are actually over right now.”

You grimaced. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So I get back from my destination bachelorette trip that I didn’t bother telling them about and have enough time to help move a boat into storage but not see my parents—Daughter of the year,” you muttered regretfully.

“You did this to yourself, kid.” Johnny patted you on the head.

“I know, I know.”

Entering the Suhs’ living room where your parents were playing a game of cards, you went around to give everyone hellos, your parents first, then Johnny’s. Jungwoo was introduced as a friend of Johnny and Jaehyun’s, and lingered in the darkness by the doorway. Jaehyun had provided him a ballcap to help hide his iridophores in the shadows as much as he could as you tried to keep your conversations with your families short and quaint.

“When did you get back, Y/N?” Your mom asked.

“Earlier today—It’s been crazy, sorry I didn’t text you, Mom,” you immediately apologized, kissing her head quickly.

“We picked Y/N up from the airport and got distracted with the boat,” Jaehyun rescued you, flashing a charmingly dimpled smile at the parents. “Our bad, sorry, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Who is getting married?”

“Uhm, Chaeyoung.” You quickly picked a friend that you had met in college to guarantee that your mom didn’t know their parents and therefore wouldn’t try to congratulate anybody behind your back.

She nodded. “Ahh…”

“Whose boat did you say it was, Johnny?” Mr. Suh questioned his son next. “It’s not Yuta’s, is it?”

“Oh, he’s been talking about getting one since high school, hasn’t he?” Johnny’s mom laughed.

“Yep, it’s his,” Johnny nodded along.

Your dad appraised the four of you. “And he couldn’t even help you all?”

“Well, it’s mine too,” Jaehyun once again came in for the save. “We went in halfsies on it after my promotion. He was busy tonight, so I just went ahead and moved it.”

“Jungwoo, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh called out to the Galarii.

“Yes, sir.” He hastily gave a polite bow, fidgeting with the ballcap under the older man’s gaze.

“How did you get roped into their three-ring circus?”

“Yes, it’s better to stay out of the line of fire, especially where our kids are concerned,” your dad chuckled.

“I don’t mind helping, really,” Jungwoo replied, gaze hesitantly skittering over to you. You gave him an encouraging smile.

Johnny’s mom patted your cheek then. “I’m sure our Y/N must be tired after that trip. We’ll let you all go.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” you said appreciatively, giving her a kiss on the cheek as well as you tried to escape with the other guys.

Before you could fully retreat from the room, however, your mom caught your hand. The two mothers exchanged a look as they gestured for you to stoop down to their level. You obliged.

“Keep an eye on that new one, sweetie,” Mrs. Suh rather obviously pointed to Jungwoo even as she whispered.

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you this whole time,” your mom added, just as hushed as her friend.

“Goodbye, Auntie.” you purposefully ignored their statements, giving them final hugs and kisses goodbye. “Goodbye, Mom.”

As the four of you walked from the front door to Johnny’s waiting car far down the dirt driveway, Jungwoo sidled up to you.

“May I uh… May I know what that was about?” He asked quietly. “When they pointed at me?”

You giggled, stopping to pull on his shoulder and bring his ear down to you. “They were warning me about you. Said you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Jungwoo chuckled breathily. “An acute observation.”

“They said I should keep an eye on you.”

“That makes me sound dangerous.”

“Well—”

“Hey!” Johnny called out from the end of the drive, standing at his car and spinning his keys around his finger. “Are you done?”

“I’ve got class tomorrow!” Jaehyun added, though the teasing was apparent in his tone.

“Coming!” You chirped back, starting down the driveway again.

Johnny easily navigated back to your apartment, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the melody playing over his speakers. He finally broke the peaceful quiet in the car as your building was approaching.

“So how long are my parents going to be housing the boat?” He asked dryly.

“Oh, uhm,” you and Jungwoo looked at each other uncertainly. “I’m not sure yet. A few days, maybe more. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. Just let me know when he’s going back.”

“Right. Yeah.”

He put the car in park and got out to give you one more hug on the sidewalk in front of your building. Your friend let out a deep breath with you still in his arms. “I’m really glad you’re back, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“I know, John,” you replied, hugging him back. “Thank you.”

Waving to Jaehyun through the window, you and Jungwoo headed inside. Thankfully, you hadn’t missed your rent payment while you were gone, so you still had an apartment to go back to. Looking at the day on your phone, you realized that you’d normally have work tomorrow.

“I wonder if I’ve been fired,” you snickered to yourself, closing your front door behind Jungwoo. He looked back at you, clearly worried, but you waved his concern off. “I hated that job anyway.”

The Galarii peered out past your curtains at the full moon in the sky. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” you admitted. “I think Galarian days are longer or something.”

“Do you remember what you were going to say? In the driveway at Johnny’s parents’ home?”

“Hm? Oh, when you were asking me about what our moms said?” You stretched your arms above your head. “You were confused because they made your interest in me sound dangerous. You almost died because of it, why are you confused about that?”

“I understand how it can be dangerous to me, but that doesn’t happen to you.” He stepped closer to you, cocking his head in confusion.

You sat down on your couch, gesturing for him to sit with you. “To humans, it still can be. Falling in love with the wrong person, exposing yourself like that. It can get you hurt, physically or emotionally. Sometimes they’re a bad person, or sometimes you’re both good people with the right intentions, but it still goes wrong.”

Jungwoo’s eyes widened. “And you still choose to do this? Over and over?”

“Yes, we do,” you laughed. “What other choice do we have?”

In the late afternoon, after you and Jungwoo had finally woken up and eaten breakfast, you went out for a walk at the seaside. Taking a deep breath in, you reveled in the feeling of the warm rays of sun on your skin again.

“Look at that blue sky,” you beamed up appreciatively. “Actually, I think I’m just happy to see any sky again.”

“Really?” Jungwoo prompted you.

“After being underground for so long? Yeah, being in a wide-open space feels good.” You did a big spin with your arms open. The beach was relatively empty in the middle of the week with most everyone at work. “Don’t get me wrong, it was cool to see where you’re from.”

“I like it here too,” he agreed with a smile as you returned to his side, lacing your fingers with his.

“The guys want to get dinner later, by the way,” you informed him. “They’re also happy you’re not dead.”

“That’s kind of them.”

Up ahead was a familiar area of damaged palm trees and brush, slowly beginning to grow back. You pointed to it with a grin, “Look, it’s where we met.”

Jungwoo squinted against the sun, looking at the foliage with interest. “It is?”

“Yep. Looks a bit different in the daytime, huh? And without a spaceship in it?”

“And I don’t think we ever approached it from this side.”

“And there’s no cops.” You pointed out a nearby firepit as you passed it. “That’s where we were all hanging out when you crashed. We thought you were a shooting star at first. Hyuck told everyone to make a wish.”

“Is that a human custom?”

“Superstition, yeah. You’re supposed to make a wish on a shooting star.”

“What did you wish for?”

You grinned. “If you tell, your wish isn’t going to come true.”

“Ah, I see. My apologies.”

“But mine already came true, so there’s no harm in saying, I think.”

Jungwoo looked at you curiously as you continued.

“I wished for something interesting to happen,” you admitted with a knowing smirk. “And the interesting things haven’t stopped since.”

He burst into laughter, halting your leisurely stroll as he clutched his stomach. “S-Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You began listing them off on your fingers, “Alien spaceship crashing right next to us, alien inside spaceship being almost dead, alien declaring I’m his soulmate, alien almost dying again, going to alien’s home planet to keep him from dying, alien getting better and taking me back to Earth. Been pretty interesting.”

He was still laughing, squatting down to try to compose himself.

“So maybe it wasn’t an assassination attempt that made you crash,” you said humorously. “Maybe it was my super powerful wish.”

“But-But I was already crashing when you made that wish,” he pointed out through giggles. “You used my-my crashing spaceship to make your wish.”

“Ah, technicalities.”

Jungwoo stood up on shaky feet, and you offered him your hand to steady him. “I’m starting to think that human choice is a more powerful force than gravity.”

“Really?”

“Or at least your choices.”

You sighed, grabbing his face with two hands to look him in the eye. “Jungwoo, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” He asked, eyes carefully watching your expression.

“Because you just called me a cosmic force and that’s definitely the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Because it makes me want to kiss you stupid on this public beach.”

His breaths trembled in the space between you. “There’s nobody here.”

“You make some good points.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, stopping before your lips met. “Jungwoo.”

“Hm?” His hands had settled on your waist, where they had been when you were dancing together.

“Is this okay? Can I kiss you?”

He swallowed, his eyes on yours as he hurriedly nodded. “Yes.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, slotting your mouths together finally. Jungwoo let out a hum of delight in the back of his throat, the curl at the corner of his lip apparent. His smile only continued to grow with each passing moment as you made good on your promise, bringing a hand around to cup his cheek.

When you dropped back onto flat feet again, he was standing there with a dazed, content smile on his face. His iridophores were no longer just glinting in the sun, they were fully pulsing with a soft, glowing light from under his skin, like a little heartbeat. You reached a hand up towards his cheek, and he stayed still as you traced over them in fascination. After a few moments, the glow faded away, and they were back to their normal reflective state.

“What was that?” You whispered breathlessly. “Are you okay—”

“I’m great,” he promised, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. “They’ll do that sometimes. When I’m really happy.”

“God, okay,” you relaxed. “It was like I really did have a fallen star in my hands.”

“If you say something romantic back, does that mean I get to kiss you stupid?”

“This is a concerning precedent I’ve set, isn’t it?”

“It’d only be fair.” He pouted.

You looked around, finding the beach still vacant of other patrons. “Alright, alright.”

After getting dinner with your friends, you and Jungwoo declined any rides offered, taking the long way back to your apartment.

“The guys were happy to hang out with you again,” you said brightly.

“Yes, it was nice to see them all,” Jungwoo replied.

“I can’t believe Hyuck asked you if you had tentacles though, honestly,” you shook your head. “He needs to keep that between him and incognito mode.”

“I take it he wasn’t being scientifically rigorous?”

You snorted, “No.”

You looked up at the navy blue sky, dotted with so few stars.

“What does the night sky look like on Galaria?” You asked Jungwoo. “I didn’t see it while we were there.”

“Many more stars,” he answered quietly. “I think because we don’t have any permanent light fixtures on our surface.”

“Ah, no light pollution. Must be nice.”

“It is.”

There was a comfortable lull in conversation, cars passing by and the distant sounds of city life continuing around you.

“You said once that you wouldn’t be happy behind a desk now that you knew that aliens existed,” Jungwoo recalled. “Since you’ve been to space and have come back home… Do you feel the same? Do you want to stay here?”

You tilted your head back and forth as you thought, still looking up at the stars. Finally, you answered, “While I was on Galaria, I needed to come home, to make sure everyone knew I was okay. And now that I’ve done that, I keep thinking about what we could’ve done on that trip if you hadn’t been, you know, dying.”

His voice was guarded as he prompted, “So you…”

“So if you’re asking me to come with you, Jungwoo, the answer is yes.” You looked over at him knowingly.

“Oh!” His iridophores were glowing again as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, vibrating with energy. “There’s so many places I can take you! You’ll love Irwon, and the lagoons in Til-Wyn, and I need to check that the Nightbringer’s Festival hasn’t happened yet!”

“Sounds like a date,” you grinned, hugging him back. “Several, actually.”

“And we’ll come back to Earth whenever you want. Say the word, and we’ll come right back for you to stay and see your loved ones for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.” You took his hands as he let you go, catching his eye to tell him sincerely, “And I want to learn Galarii, too. So we can actually communicate, without one of us wearing your transcoder. Even if I speak with a silly human accent because I’m missing a flap or whatever.”

On top of the pulsing iridophores, you saw Jungwoo’s eyes get misty, a tear spilling over on one cheek as he was absolutely beaming down at you.

“Jungwoo are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, wiping at it with your thumb as another fell from his other eye.

“I think I am, yes,” he nodded, feeling at his damp undereyes.

“Tears of joy, I hope?” You continued dabbing at his cheeks as you tried to comfort him through his apparently bewildering situation.

“Do humans do that?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

He smiled and nodded. “Then yes, that must be it.”

“Oh God, come here.” You pulled him back into your arms. “Seriously, what am I going to do with you?”

He sniffled, then supplemented, “Keep me?”

You giggled and pressed a kiss to cheek, right on his glowing iridophores. “I guess so. Finders keepers, after all.”

⇢ masterlist

TAGLIST

@bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu