#THERE ARE 365 DAYS IN THE YEAR HOW THE FUCK DID THESE ACCIDENTALLY LINE UP

[interdimensionalvoid]

throwback to the time that I, completely by accident, made my oc lose their left arm on international left handers day (real not clickbait) (actually happened) (it happened a week before the school year (he was 12) and the 13th sounded sPoOky and September 13th would have been after the school year started) (I looked it up to see if there were any birthdays or smth that day or silly goofy National days) (this was completely by accident and I don’t think i could be this silly intentionally tbh)

@crossover-enthusiast

[teenwolf-theoriginals]

Sitting on top of the kitchen counter, Carmen drummed his fingertips along his palm to the rhythm of constant thoughts. His pace quickened at the thought of the restaurant being four weeks away from opening, and yet, they still weren’t fucking ready. It slowed when he thought of last night with you, the first time in months he had gotten a decent sleep. Then it quickened once more when his mind circled back to the never-ending list of shit that needed to be done throughout the week. Before finally, slowing down to a steady tempo when he exhaled, bringing his thoughts back around to you. It calmed him. You calmed him. Yet, everything about that terrified the hell out of him. Simply because anything considered good, Carmen tended to self-sabotage. He did it at the family barbecue, getting an ear full from Suga when you had explained why you were leaving early. He said some shit, you said some shit back until Carmen played the "You deserve better than me" card. You listened and vented to Suga who then proceeded to tell Carmen how much of an asshole he was, leading him to sulk throughout the barbecue debating with himself whether he should call and apologize. He called that night, silence greeting him on the other line. He left a voicemail apologizing, and one year later he finally saw you again, standing in his shamble of a restaurant. The first word out of his mouth had been a low whisper of “Fuck”. But the good kind. The kind where the surprise was pleasant and a welcome breath of fresh, calming air after the mind fuck of the day.

Now, one month later, it felt as if the barbecue fallout never occurred and the two of you hadn't lost those 365 days. He had come home to you standing by the stove, the very place Carmen’s eyes had been staring at for the past 10 minutes. Remembering you in one of his white shirts after accidentally spilling wine on your black sweater top. He smiled when the memory of a faint blush radiated off your cheeks in the middle of you rambling on and on about how you weren’t sure if he would be okay with you borrowing his shirt. He kissed you mid-sentence, mixing the taste of white wine and cigarettes, leading to dinner being forgotten.

"Carm?". He looked up, softly smiling when he saw you walk around the corner. His white shirt looking so much better on you. "You okay?". 

He nodded, frowning his brow soon after. "I'm-I'm not entirely sure. Last night was...it was amazing, you know?".

"I do, I was there". You cheekily replied, smiling at him.

Carmen smiled back, starching his cheek before playing with your hand. Rubbing it, tracing up and down your fingers, just feeling your soft skin against his callous hands. "But I-I woke up this morning and I, I don't know, I had this thought that scared the shit out of me. And my mind, it er...it kept going back to the barbecue".

"That wasn't our best moment". You whispered, remembering that afternoon as if it happened yesterday. Richie had just started on the grill, the others enjoying the sunshine and drinks while you and Carmen were in Suga's kitchen. In two minutes it went from smiling and stealing kisses to watching Carmen's face drop as he chopped the tomatoes. Yelling followed shortly after as the two of you debated in circles about the relationship. Out of the blue, no warning, that was Carmen. A winter blizzard or the warm sun gliding across your skin, there was no in-between with him. It was either no emotion or an overload of emotion.

"It wasn't my best moment. And I'm sorry that I was such an asshole".

"You don't need to apologize again, Carmy. I heard your voicemail".

"You did?"

Stepping a little closer, you nodded. "I should have called you back, or at least texted, but I-".

"You didn't owe me anything, alright. I was the one who messed up. That is why I'm so fucking nervous about messing it up this time".

Brushing his hair away, Carmen closed his eyes for half-second to relax in your touch. "What if I'm the one who fucks it up?". You whispered.

"Not possible. It'll be me. And I don't want to, you know? I, um, I'm trying very hard to be present. To focus on you when you need me. But sometimes I feel-".

"Overwhelmed?".

"So overwhelmed". He exhaled as he rubbed his thumb across your palm.

"We're both going to mess up. Make mistakes, say the wrong thing. Get frustrated at the other for not listening, for not paying attention. But I won't give up trying to make this work. Because I really want this to work".

"I want this to work too".

"Then we'll find ways to make it work, Carm". You reassured him.

"Even when I'm being a piece of shit?".

"Especially when you're being a piece of shit".

Smiling at each other, Carmen ran his thumb gently across your cheek. "I really like that you're here".

"Me too". You replied, adding. "Is there anything else you're thinking about?"

"I'm thinking you're very, very beautiful". He confessed, leaning in to kiss you. Like dinner, breakfast was forgotten. And for worse or for better, you and Carmen were determined to take this second chance and build it all back up again.

[missinghan]

dawn ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : runaway! au; demon!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol 

❖ summary : it seems like everyone has their own guardian angel, everyone but you because you’ve given up on Jesus the moment you come down to Lee Minho’s level and shake hands with the Devil.

one.

Your dad is definitely not gonna approve of you hanging by the bar alone after midnight. 

It all happened too fast, and you don’t even know where you’re going next. After a call from your manager, which you almost fell asleep as he rambled about boring paperwork, until he dropped the bomb. He said he was sorry for what he’s gonna say next and turned out the label wanted to cut you loose. The entire universe was completely shattered right in front of your eyes. You were utterly speechless when the line went dead so long story short, you packed your bag and ran away. 

Like a coward. 

You stare blankly at the half-empty glass of Martini in your hand before chuckling lowly. Because life is a little son of a bitch, who’s born with the power to pull on everyone’s strings as if people are a bunch of puppets for whatever gods up there to entertain themselves. Getting signed into a music production company right after your graduation swept your life over with joy. Your parents were… overwhelmed to say the least but they still wanted you to move to Seoul. Two years later, your life once again was flipped upside down because of a single phone call. They didn’t even bother to call you in and meet face-to-face. 

“Cheers to this motherfucker.” You almost laugh at your own miserable state but suppress it and down the whole glass in one go. “Another one.” You tell the barista absently and he just sighs before starting to mix your drink. 

“Tough times ?” He leans over the counter and slides your drink across the wooden surface. 

You gratefully take the glass, words slurred between hiccups. “You have no fucking idea.” Your eyes travel down from his defined features gleaming under the neon light to the name tag hanging off his white dress shirt. It reads ‘Kim Woojin’. You shake your head to lure the weariness away while your right hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out some cash. 

But before you can place them on the table, Woojin stops you abruptly. “Keep a hold of them. This last one’s on me.” He sighs defeatedly. Judging by how you look right now, he must have thought that you’re some petty college girl who just got into a fight with her boyfriend and now you have nowhere to stay for the night so essentially, he wants to be certain that you’ll have enough money for a cheapass motel of some sort.

Woojin pats his wet hands onto the black apron wrapped around his hip. “You’ll need them more than I do.” And you feel kinda bad for him, partially because this place doesn’t serve cheap vodka like most bars, and partially because you’re now a somewhat burden to the bartender. “Listen, no matter how much bad shit happens, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like that punk over there has already had his eyes on you the whole time.” He winks at you playfully before walking over to his coworker at the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the Devil… literally, not even sarcastically, a hollow presence seems to come into sight the moment you place your lips on the rim of the glass. You automatically reach your hand backwards only to find exactly what you’re looking for. “Do not touch me.” You deadpan, normally you would have felt bad by now upon your sudden discourtesy but unfortunately you’re not in the mood to be kind today. Hearing his melodic chuckle, you yank his hand away rather harshly, the coldness of his touch still chills you to the bone.

“Why so sad, bunny ?” He moves over to sit down on the nearby wooden bench, lips curled into a devilish smirk. Out of 7 billion people on this glorious plant, he chooses to pester a mundane mortal like you. Out of 365 days of the year, he chooses to visit you on the worst day of your life. Lee Minho is worse than Lucifer, it’s official.

Not enjoying your dull state, he cocks a brow at you. “You’re jobless because that stupid label doesn’t need you anymore. And now what ? Are you gonna be petty and depressed about it for the rest of your life ? Because if so, you’ll have a really shitty life Y/N. Do you really want your demons to come out and conquer the path ahead like it’s their fucking playground ?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Said a demon himself.”

“Then aren’t humans the closest things that we have to demons alive ?” Minho almost snickers at your suggestive remark, but he wouldn’t admit that it did sting a bit. After all, he is a demon, an epitome of a creature that’s second to Lucifer and his descendants generation, highly worshipped and exceptionally feared. And he’s low-key impressed that you didn’t throw yourself out the window when he stepped out of a wisp of black smoke the day you two first encountered.

You on the other hand didn’t know that he was too utterly soft for you to actually erase your memories. From then on, he would visit you occasionally at the godly hour when you’re close to kicking yourself in the process of composing or when you accidentally fucked up something. ‘Til this day, you still don’t know whether his concern for you is pure sincerity or he just finds your first world problems very amusing. You can’t tell either way.

Taking another sip of your drink, you groan slightly at the slight burn in your throat from the strong alcohol. “I mean ... fair point.” Your lips pursed unknowingly. “I don’t know Minho… I think I must have done something fucking messed up to be kicked out of the game like that. I wasn’t even thinking straight, you know, just packed my stuff and drove downtown. Ugh now I feel like shit.”

The demon in front of you glares at the glass of Martini coldly. He’s not letting you finish that shit after who knows how much alcohol that Woojin has permitted you to drink. “Do you think that overcoming cowardice is easy ? If it was that easy, everyone would go outside to get some fresh air, smell some flowers, meet new people; not fucking hide behind their screens and whatnot while talking trash about others like a bunch of scaredy-cats.” Minho spats, swiftly taking your drink away before you gulp it again.

Funny enough, you’re sitting at a bar with a demon, who’s obviously so done with your shit, but also the one that you have least expectations for listening and giving you advice. Just like how that one song goes.

Well, I shook hands with the devil

Down on the south side

And he bought us both a drink

With a pad and a pencil sat by his side

I said, "Tell me what you think".

Except that Minho didn’t buy you a drink, he actually stole yours.

“I may not know much about your world, but I’m confident that you’re very talented and passionate about what you’re doing. I saw how much effort you put into your work, staying up after midnight, heck, you barely got any sleep when you’re still working for that shitty company. I saw how much you care, Y/N and I don’t give two fucks about how much you’re doubting yourself because you’re so much more than that. I know you got this, you’re as stubborn as a human being can be, you’re not gonna let a tiny cut or bruised knee hold you back, are you ?”

You shake your head slightly, starting to acknowledge his words. You don’t get why you never noticed this but for a demon, Minho gives really good advice. In spite of his cocky personality because he thinks that he has every right to sass every human being out whenever wherever he wants to, his company always makes you feel fuzzy inside. It’s almost heartwarming but that makes no sense because demons are nowhere near ‘sweet and caring’.

A strange look flashes in his eyes when his eyes meet yours but before you can properly react, it vanishes. “You’re not drinking ever again… at least not for the time being.” He tells you off with his eyes before chugging the whole glass. Woah, good shit, he admits internally. And he’s mildly surprised that you’re taking this better than he’d thought. Other young producers would have been bawling their eyes out by now, not talking to a creature from the underworld.

“Alcohol helps me sleep.” You pout slightly, feeling the need to actually pay Woojin back when you get paid again. Oh wait… but you’re practically unemployed. “Insomnia is painstakingly arbitrary, like a needle that’s constantly pricking my spine whenever I’m trying to get comfy in bed. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight, thanks a lot.” You huff and lean over on the wooden counter, cheek pressed against your left upper arm.

Although Minho thinks that you look ridiculously cute right now with tinted pink cheeks and messy hair, he’s still not gonna buy you another drink. “They do say that insomnia is just another word for chit chatting with the demons during bedtime. And you’ve already wolfed down three fucking Vodka Martinis by the time I teleported here, aren’t you concerned about the stupid hangover tomorrow morning ? I swear to Lucifer— are you even listening to me right now ?”

Minho asks in disbelief when you stay unresponsive. The demon peels his eyes away from the empty glass and turns his head only to find you already fallen asleep, like a bear in hibernation. Your eyes are closed shut, chest heaving up and down rhythmically as you drift away from the cruel reality and into dreamland. Truth be told, you tend to fall asleep whenever he’s lecturing you a lot, and that gives him an excuse to stay for a little more than he should.

two.

Hangover hits you with a bang, almost knocks you out cold. But it’s not going to let you pass out, at least not before you start regretting the amount of alcohol that you chugged last night. Your eyes are still screwed shut, refusing to flutter open as your head throbs uncontrollably. Usually you would have been awake by now since you’re dumb enough to have white curtains instead of colored ones which helps the sunlight goes right through your apartment.

But something seems off today because there’s nothing that’s bothering your eyes. And you would definitely sleep in if it wasn’t for the strange feeling beneath your skin. Wait a second… A worrisome feeling runs down your spine, causing your eyes to open. You look down and check your clothes properly, everything stays the same except for… hold on, since when did you have a silky black sheet ?

“You woke up, finally. Be grateful that you’re on time for breakfast.” Someone’s voice booms in the distance when your eyes adjust themselves on the foreign surroundings. The studio apartment in front of you has your jaw dropped to the floor. Minimal yet modern pieces of furniture, a fully equipped kitchenette and an enormous window that gives you a breathtaking view of the whole city. This isn’t your apartment, is it ?

You groan loudly before pushing yourself off the bed and shiver slightly when your feet come in contact with the cold floor. “Tylenol’s on the table, you’re welcome.” Minho says nonchalantly as he has his back against you. You drag yourself to the dining table and pop the pills into your mouth before downing the glass of water beside them.

Yeah, no, you’re not drinking ever again.

“What are you doing ?” You ask him in a raspy tone and sniff your nose continuously at the aroma that’s filling the entirety of the apartment. Minho stays silent, deciding to fully concentrate on his current task. When you suddenly approach him from behind and place your head lazily on his shoulder, he almost drops the pot of freshly made soup. His chest swells a bit whenever you get close to his body, whether it is because it’s all in his head or just you having that kind of effect on him, he dares not to know.  

“Tsk, you’re in my way, shoo.” He sneers, motioning for you to move so that he can transfer the pot over to the table in peace. Minho quickly scoops the thick liquid into a smaller bowl and gives you a look. You just stare at the hearty soup in complete awe, mouth slightly watered. No one has ever cooked for you before, much less a pot full of hangover soup. And you would be lying if you said that you’re not touched right now because you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve had homemade food.

Lee Minho never changes, still ever so caring.

He sits down at the table and pushes the bowl towards you. “Eat this and write me a 1000 words essay for instant feedback later.” Without a word, you automatically take a spoonful into your mouth, almost choking because of how hot it is. “Dude, it’s not 1945 anymore. If this goes on, you’re not gonna die from anything other than choking yourself.” He purses his lips at your eagerness, dabbing the excess soup away with a napkin on the corner of your lips.

After coughing furiously, you figure that your voice can finally function normally. “I didn’t know that you can cook, god this soup is everything.” In the next ten minutes, you finish inhaling the whole bowl as if you’ve walked through the desert, searching for an oasis for a week straight.

You’ve never let anyone cook for you other than your parents because one, none of your friends can cook, Changbin almost burnt your apartment down while Jisung came up with the idea to crack eggs with a knife; and two, you still remember a creepy story you once heard on a podcast vividly. Basically, there’s this girl who allowed her date to make her a meal on their very first encounter. She was hospitalized a week later, suspecting food poisoning but the test results came out as cannibalism. Yikes.

“Demons eat souls, not human flesh you paranoid bitch.” Minho reads your thoughts in a matter of seconds before taking his wooden spoon and smack you on the head. He looks unimpressed right now, he really does because he’s so over your delusional ass from binge-watching way too many investigation related shows at three a.m. “They’re not even that tasty, I’d rather have a boring sandwich.”

You scoff at him, rubbing the spot where he hit previously. “You can’t have mine then, it’s too dark for you.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” He almost grit, lips pressed into a thin line.

You stand up from the wooden stool and carry the dishes over to the newly renovated silver sink. “This is your place ?” You ask while turning on the faucet to spray water all over the dirty bowl. “It’s really nice, not gonna lie. Just not as nice as mine.”

When you’re having your back against him, Minho looks somewhat guilty. What would Hyunjin say if he found out that his roommate brought a mundane mortal home and even made her a bowl of hangover soup ? “For the time being, it is.” Whatever, Hyunjin’s staying in Italy for a good two weeks anyway. With a little bit more effort of ridding off your human scent and reorganize some stuff, Minho can pretty much pass without being suspected. “And what do you expect ? That I’m gonna leave you at the bar where sketchy people are getting wasted ? FYI, a demon doesn’t necessarily have to own a place where it’s just full of miserable souls swimming around. I take my beauty sleep very seriously, actually, all of us do. Even Satan.”

You carefully line the dishes up on the white rack next to the sink and sighs. “Beauty sleep ? I don’t know her.” When you turn around to face Minho, his lips are slightly curled upwards. “What, Minho ?” You ask, slightly annoyed.

He props his head onto his palms and cocks his head to the side. “What will you do now ? Going home is a no-no, obviously, and I believe that your coworkers/best friends are flipping the whole city upside down looking for you so your apartment isn’t really an option anymore. What’s next Y/N ?”

You think for a bit and hum. “Technically I’m running away ...so…why not make the best out of it ?” Then, something clicks and your eyes lit up in mischief. “I have an idea. It’s genius, a fucking genius idea.”

Minho immediately shakes his head furiously, looking like he’s encountering a panic attack. “Hate it.”

“You love it, don’t even lie to yourself.”

“It’s humiliating.”

You reach your hands inside your pocket to look for your keys. “Too late.” That’s when Minho knows that he doesn’t have a say in this.

three.

“You know what’s more fun than this ?” Minho supports himself on his knees as his breaths come in short, he feels like he’s gonna throw up. Being on a rollercoaster is most definitely scarier than attending a meeting with the Underworld Authority. He still doesn’t get why humans enjoy torturing themselves as a form of pure entertainment when they can do something like educate themselves by reading more books. “Hearing Lucifer play the fiddle, the Devil plays it damn good and a fun demon to hang around. He’s a real entertainer, trust me. Just hire a lawyer beforehand if you’re signing any contract with him.”

Minho’s making it sound like you’re planning on having ‘a thing’ with Lucifer meanwhile he practically follows you everywhere, watches your every move and you think that’s close enough for an example of the infamous slavery contract.

You run a hand through your hair and exhale in satisfaction. Since middle school, you haven’t really got a chance to come to amusement parks before. You’re far too caught up with the new tempo to life these days. “Come on, it’s not that bad. It ain’t my fault when you can’t teleport us both to somewhere further.” You almost laugh at his current state; disheveled hair, beads of sweat rolling down on his forehead, and he looks as pale as a ghost like he just saw one. Not like he’s terrified of ghosts or anything, actually, he might be scared of heights.

“You can’t teleport with me for fuck’s sake, even when I want to, you’ll end up disintegrating into dusts forever because your mortal body doesn’t have enough energy to recollect itself piece by piece.” Minho grits and shakes his head slightly to adjust the messy mop of hair on his head. He looks really cute, you think. Like a cat that’s trying to clean itself but can’t quite reach the itchy spot.

Upon your stubbornness because he knows too well that you just wanna see him being drowned in misery, Minho can’t help but roll his eyes. “And can you get any dumber ? You have a fucking Range Rover and a valid license. Technically, there’s no law against driving with a demon sitting in your vehicle. Ugh, I really should have left you at the bar last night.”

Right when you’re about to snap back at him with a witty comment, your phone buzzes loudly. And your eyes are about to jump out of their sockets the moment you open up the device. There are more than thirty missed calls, from your family and friends along with countless texts filled with nothing but concern. Changbin and Jisung both work under the same label as you so you assume that your family already knew everything. Now you feel guilty for running away so spontaneously because after all, you do have people who are always willing to be there for you.

[ 3:25pm ]

jisung | dude, I’m outside, open up

jisung | we know everything already

changbin | Y/N I’m bringing food over, you’re gonna binge-watch Netflix with us whether you want to or not

[ 3:27pm ]

jisung | uhm, hello ? Y/N ?

changbin | we’re breaking in if you’re not coming out, FYI

[ 3:35pm ]

jisung | you know I have the keys right, we’re gonna go in

changbin | this isn’t fucking funny

jisung | stop being such a stubborn piece of shit

[ 3:36pm ]

jisung | Y/N where the fuck are you ?!

changbin | …. look, just go home, your family are worried sick

[ 3:45pm ]

jisung | at least call me back ?

changbin | whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t do it

[ 9:23pm ]

chan | call me, I’m not going anywhere

Sensing your racing thoughts and seeing your tense posture, Minho swiftly takes your phone away from your hand and drops it into his pocket. The last thing he wants to see is you curled up into a ball and cry alone in the bathroom. “You’re so rude ? What kind of human are you, Y/N ? This is how you’re treating your date ?” He huffs, arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid. But wait, a date ?

“This is not a date, Lee Minho, stop flirting with me.” You knit your brows together in confusion when his eyes twinkle. What’s with his demon nature being on steroids right now ? “Give me my phone.” You order.

“It’s a date when I say that it’s a date.” Minho reaches his hand outwards and links his fingers with yours. He quickly narrows the proximity between the two of you, backing you up against a wall. Utterly speechless, you find yourself dumbfoundedly melting into his touch. How can a demon possess such radiant warmth and tenderness ? Is it all just a facade or does he seem more human when he’s around you, you can’t tell either way. But what you do know is that when you relax a bit and let him hold your hand properly, it fits like a glove.

Minho cocks his head and cracks a smile. For the longest time, you’ve never noticed anyone looking at you with so much sincerity and affection. Maybe it’s all in your head after all. “What now ? You wanna watch a movie and put our hands into the popcorn at the same time to see what’ll happen or nah ?” You question, but it feels more like a question towards yourself.

Minho chuckles lightheartedly. “You’re so damn predictable Y/N.”

The rest of the night is absolutely magical. You feel like you’re acting in one of those One Direction’s music videos that’s not the typical ‘too good to be true’ kind. It really does remind you a lot of ‘Night Changes’ when Minho almost slips while holding onto you like a cat that just came in contact with water. Meaning, if it weren’t for your mediocre ice-skating skills way back from middle school, everything would have been exactly like the music video itself, in which you don’t mind. Because it’s Lee Minho, because his warm presence is something you never knew you needed in your life, because you always have this sense of comfort and happiness even when he starts cursing so loudly that your ears bleed. Demon or not, him being him is truly a blessing already.

Minho says. “I told you it’s humiliating.” He links your hand into his before stuffing it inside his pocket and drags you away from the front entrance. His hand’s got a lot warmer from staying inside his coat for so long and that makes him more human than ever. In which, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You freaking loved it, you can’t tell me otherwise.” You shake your head in denial.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes for the tenth time. “Let’s go home.”

four.

The next day, Minho somehow convinces you to drive back to your apartment for packing. Not for running away this time, he’s had enough of that shit. But for a trip back to your hometown instead ( you really should have gone deeper into his ‘let’s go home’ from last night ). The flight will take approximately ten hours or more so he only gives you two hours to pack before leaving. You basically spend half an hour picking out clothes from the messy walk-in closet and another ninety minutes to fit all of them into your suitcase while having a mental breakdown inside your head.

Because gosh, what would they think ?

You’ve scared them all shitless for the last two days and now you’re just gonna show up at the front door and go “Hey, I’m done being miserable now.” ? Sounds like a pretty solid plan but you doubt that your mom’s not planning to beat you up with her favorite broom that’s covered in nothing but dust and spiderwebs. Not to mention, your brother is definitely gonna grill your ass for causing such a commotion in your family. You can already imagine him waiting for you at the foyer with crossed arms, getting ready to lecture the heck out of you.

“Did you lose your favorite pair of shoes or something ?” Minho suddenly fades into your room, making you jump slightly. You’ve got used to his particular ways of intruding your personal space but the demon never seems to fail at surprising you.

You glare at him. “Look who’s being rude now.”

Minho purses his lips. “I didn’t know humans were notorious for being terribly indecisive when it comes to their belongings.” He almost sneers, leaning back against your bedroom wall.

“That’s not the problem.” Yeah, that’s not the problem because not every human takes pain in packing their stuff, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. “I’m coming home after scaring the shit out of my loved ones. I wouldn’t blame them if they hated me, it’s just that I don’t know what to say. What do I say in situations like this ? School didn’t teach me that.” A sigh escapes your lips as you kick your suitcase towards the door. And you’re kinda glad that Changbin and Jisung left your apartment last night, specifically when you called them at one a.m. because you were driving back with a demon right next to the shotgun window.

Minho politely grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open for you. Now that was a first. You almost smile at his out-of-nowhere kind gesture. Normally, he would have teleported to the front porch and complained about how you’re always taking so long. “Hurry up dumbass, we don’t have all day.” He raises his brow at your thoughts.

“Tsk, you’re not the one who’s driving.”

Minho can’t drive, sadly. Partially because he doesn’t see the point in moving around in a fucking box with four wheels when he’s fully capable of teleporting from one place to another within a snap of his fingers. And partially because he can’t afford erasing some cops’ memories because they might have some kind of innovative technology that’ll automatically record when things go down. Another reason is that he might or might not chug a whole bottle of whiskey while driving just because he feels like it.

“It’s cold, roll down the windows.” Minho reminds you when he enters your car because gosh, you always love to keep the temperature at a minimum of 71 degrees even when it’s freezing outside. His cold-hearted demon ass is quaking because another cold case remains another mystery for the entirety of humanity. “You’d be a badass demon, just saying. I’m surprised that you’re still alive at this point.” He shakes his head in disapproval and leans forward to turn off the AC. Not because he’s cold but he’s afraid that you’ll actually freeze to death before you two can even make it to the airport.

You kick the brake when the first red light occurs. “Just admit it, you’re cold. If anything, you can always hold my hand.”

“Okay,” He blinks numerous time at your reply. When did you become such a brat ? You’ve been acting like him these past few days and now he knows how it feels like. Woah, he does act like an old, bitchy cat. “Who taught you that ?”

You say, sparing him a slight smirk. “You know, only the best of the best.”

“Just don’t act like that in front of your parents, will you ?” Minho scrunches his nose at your particular way of having a civil conversation. “You did tell your parents right ?”

You nod. “Yeah, I told them that I was gonna go home sooner or later. I even texted Chan— OH MY GOD,” You let out the loudest gasp whilst trying to make sharp turn at an intersection.

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?” He gasps in disbelief at your sudden outburst, holding onto the side of your car for dear life.

“I can’t just bring a demon home !” You cry out. “You’d be considered safe if it weren’t for my brother. He just happens to be home for break. God, do you know how protective he is when it comes to bringing a guy home ?!” One time, you asked your desk mate from highschool to do a project at your house and Chan didn’t even hesitate to put him on trial. Luckily, they talked things out pretty smoothly and became friends later. Now Felix’s probably the only guy who wouldn’t be thrown off a cliff for breathing in the same room as you.

Minho stares at you weirdly for a full twenty seconds, and that makes you think he’s mentally judging you, which he totally is. “Wouldn’t me being your boyfriend the best option then ?”

“Are you dumb, or are you dumb ?” You haven’t dated anyone since elementary school and the relationship didn’t even last a week. And now out of nowhere you’re just gonna bring a ‘boyfriend’ home after running away ? That’s practically equivalent to adding fuel to the fire and you doubt that Minho’s comprehend the situation correctly. That’s it, you’re officially letting all hell break loose from here. “Yeah, go ahead and be my boyfriend if you wanna sleep with the fishes.”

He throws a look at you. “Is that a challenge ?”

“Better not dress like that in front of my family then.” You glance at his bold choice of a silky wine colored dress shirt along with leather pants and combat boots. Can’t have him walking around looking like a celebrity now, can you ? Although he does look good in them… so annoying.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

However, Minho’s outfit is most definitely the least of your worries.

five.

“Don’t tell me that you thought this through because-“

Minho says in a hushed tone. “I did think this through, baby. Loosen up a bit.” A devilish smirk blooms on his lips as he tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear. He really needs to stop doing that because you’re already a blushing mess. He switched out his usual clothes and went for a comfortable hoodie with some jeans and sneakers. You hate him even more now because the demon easily pulled off the perfect boyfriend look.

Grimacing, you slap his hand away. “I’m not your fucking baby. And keep your hands to yourself, will you ?” And with that, you turn on your heels and make a beeline towards the kitchen where everyone’s busy setting up the table, leaving him in the living room alone.

Minho unconsciously plops himself onto the white faux leather couch and looks around in awe. Your house sort of symbolizes you because it’s minimal in the best way with a white color scheme and the occasional colorful tiny details on some of the decorative pieces. He starts pondering about how you never told him anything about your family in Australia. And although you grew up in a pretty well-off household, you didn’t flaunt your wealth. That makes you much more admirable in his eyes because not everyone can keep their mouth shut for more than two seconds when it comes to money.

Truth is, when your parents saw Minho for the very first time, they totally freaked out and drove to the nearest supermarket to shop for more ingredients. Now the house is filled with the aroma of a variety of grilled meat, vegetables, seafood and rice. He finally understands why you’re always homesick because gosh, who wouldn’t miss this kind of homemade food ? Minho props his head onto his hand as he watches your hard-working back figure from the living room, arranging the dishes onto the dining table with a smile on your face. And that stirs something inside him, he just doesn’t want to know it yet.

And Berry - your very much spoiled dog - is absolutely terrified by his dark presence. She keeps barking whenever he tries to pick her up, then ends up whimpering in the corner later. “Berry, don’t be rude ! He’s no stranger to us now.” Your mom nags while looking at Minho with an apologetic look. “Minho, honey, come join us. There’s no need to be so formal.” She offers him a seat at your family’s table warmly and he can already see where you got your smile from.

When he beams at her words and quickly takes the seat right beside you, you secretly roll your eyes at him. “I didn’t know dogs were supposed to be scared of demons. This is so obvious.” As you continue to complain about how he’s not acting naturally and all in a small tone, your hand automatically reaches for the chopsticks and picks out some lamb loin chops onto his plate. Minho simply brushes your words off, muttering a quick ‘thanks babe’ before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action, immediately darting towards your family members else whom have already gathered around. But before you can react properly, your dad cuts you off. “How sweet of you two.” He shows that signature ‘dad smile’ which never fails to melt your heart. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were young, dear ?” He tells your mom.

“Certainly, I still remember how—“

“Uhm, so, how did you two meet ?” Your brother - Chan - who’s sitting across the table tries his very best not to gag and changes the topic before things get out of hand. Your dad used to tell you about his first encounter with your mom, their first date and etc.. as an alternative version for the regular bedtime stories session. Chan has known too much already.

“We met at a dinner through a mutual friend during her business trip to Paris. I knew she didn’t come from Europe so if I didn’t ask for her number then, we would never meet again.” Minho has already made up a story during the dreadfully long flight, now all he has to do is read outloud. Easy mode. “We kept in touch and eventually, I moved back to Korea to meet her and stayed with her since then.”

Chan hums as a response, he doesn’t hate Minho yet, you can tell. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Y/N ? Dad was so close to talking to Felix’s parents about setting you two up.”

You gulp slightly to hide your nervousness. Under the table, Minho squeezes your hand in reassurance, and that gives you enough courage to explain slowly. “I didn’t want to freak you out with our long distance relationship. You might go nuts knowing that I’m dating a guy who I’ve only met once and he’s nearly six thousand miles away.” And setting you up with Felix ? You would never let that happen. Not in a million years. It makes you shiver just thinking about holding your highschool deskmate’s hand while walking down the aisle. “And dad, Lee Felix ? Really ? I would rather be single.”

Your dad laughs. “Come on, he’s a pretty decent boy. Too bad he’s traveling overseas right now or I might invite him over.”

“So, Minho,” Chan sips on his drink. “What do you do for a living ?” When you two arrived at the front door, he finds such little amount that Minho’s luggage holds a bit skeptical, as if your relationship and the idea of coming home happens overnight. And how he wears clothes pretty casual too for a first time meeting the parents but Chan knows better than to judge a book by its cover. However, he wants to make sure that your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t do drugs of any kind.

Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m a dancer and owns a dance studio with my friend after when I flew back to Korea. I was in Paris for an internship over the summer.” You just sit there, blinking at him in disbelief like a total dumbass. Now you’re starting to wonder how it feels like to dance with the Devil. And if it weren’t for him kicking your leg under the table, your face would have given it away.

“Hmm, interesting.” Chan nods in acknowledgement. Well, at least he’s not unemployed… could have been worse.

Your mom advises thoughtfully as she walks over to the kitchen aisle and refills the plate of beef. “Oh, and be careful with the sauce for the lamb, it’s quite hot. If you’re not good with spicy food, just leave it out.”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I can handle spicy stuff pretty well.. unlike someone over here.” Minho glances over at you. You immediately gut him with your elbow, earning a low grunt followed by a lighthearted chuckle of your family members.

“Minho can handle spicy things only because he’s getting old. His taste buds are losing their senses.” Your comment is partially true because he once told you that he’s been around for quite awhile. Definitely a lot older than the new batch of demons. He stopped counting at some point but ensured you that it’s somewhere from fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.

Minho looks at your sternly as the corners of his lips curled up. You’re already low-key mortified of what he’s going to say. “If you’re gonna act like a brat for the rest of the night, I’ll have to make sure that your legs will lose their sense by tomorrow morning.” Yep, there it is. You’re so used to his flirtatious remarks to the point that they don’t faze you anymore but having your family witness this is another level of torture. Minho’s definitely the type of guy ( if he were an actual human being ) who can’t be bothered about publicity and would straight up kiss you in the middle of the street.

And it doesn’t help either when Chan just doesn’t laugh loudly at your ‘boyfriend’s’ less than appropriate joke, he’s also on his side. Along with your parents. “I like you, not everyone can make her shut up like that.” Your brother nods in approval, clapping happily like a seal. Your parents even supply unhelpfully. “Try to keep it down and use protection, okay kids ?” Is this what betrayal feels like ?

You feel so adopted at that moment.

six.

“What the hell are you doing here ?” You try to groan as quietly as possible when you find Minho creeping up to you in the living room. “What part of ‘you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, wake up before everyone else then come back to my room later on’ couldn’t you understand ?” A compromise was almost made, and he fucking blew it.

He chuckles and looks at you dreamily. For a second there, you really thought that he was sleep-walking. His brown hair is in a bird nest, accommodated by a pair of plaid pants and white t-shirt. This prick never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You’re glad that at least he doesn’t sleep shirtless like your brother. It gives you major nightmares since middle school just by waking him up every morning.

“I can’t sleep on a foreign bed..” Minho pouts. He really can’t, especially when you’re not around. And he’s not risking the chance of one of your folks or Chan accidentally. barging into the room when he’s doing some voodoo shit either.

You huff tiredly and walk over to him, grabbing the pillow from his arms before throwing it on the couch along with your blanket. Well, lucky him, your parents just happen to love ginormous couches and you’re far too lazy to drag him back to your bedroom. “Come here.” You order after plopping yourself onto the soft surface, letting out a prolonged yawn. Minho takes a good ten seconds to look at you again. He can’t help but keep staring like a creep when you’re in an oversized t-shirt with shorts underneath, exposing your bare thighs. You’re too cute for your own good.

You say when he remains silent. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

He obediently nods, quickly settling down under the blanket. You two shuffle around for a bit until no one’s uncomfortable with less than a few inches away from each other. And when you decide to flip yourself over to face the wall, Minho gently pulls your back flush against his chest. Your eyes fly open at the sudden contact. “What-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing ?” You turn around and stare at him square in the eye.

Even in the dark, his eyes are gleaming with a demonic glint of silver. He beams innocently at your threatening tone. “Get comfortable ?”

“I mean…” You hesitate for a few seconds. Because you’d hate to admit but it does feel kinda nice having his warmth radiating off from underneath his thin shirt. It makes you feel fuzzy inside, more secure, more like you’re finally home. “If you don’t mind then…” You gather up every last bit of courage and energy to scoot yourself towards him, your arms snaking around on either side and hug his torso closer, your face buried in his chest.

And it takes every single strand of willpower for Minho to not jump and teleport to the nowhere. His breath starts to quicken when your body is practically attached to his. He didn’t expect this at all. It might be because you’re exhausted from the flight so you’re just far too sleepy to be conscious of your own actions. But anyhow, he’s not against the idea of having you in his arms like this. It makes him more relaxed knowing that you’re safe in his sound right here.

So Minho drapes one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place and the other underneath his head, straddling his legs with yours to keep them warm since you’re only wearing shorts. “Thanks for dinner, by the way.” He murmurs into your hair, taking in the scent of your familiar shampoo.

“If anything, you should be thanking my parents. They looked like they just saw Jesus when you first arrived.” You say and snuggle closer to him.

He chuckles, sending vibrations to the tip of your nose. “Admit it, your family’s in love with me. Even your brother isn’t half as bad as you made it sound. I think he would actually have nothing against our wedding.”

You make a face and lift your head upwards to look at him. “Dude, it’s just really good acting. Such a shame how the other Lee Minho gets the title of an actor when you’re over here stuck with being a demon.” If you’re being completely honest, you’re kinda scared right now. Because one, all of this is just a big play and when you fly back to Korea, it may seem like nothing has ever happened. And two, if this goes way too far, your family might disown you for ‘breaking up’ with Minho when he wasn’t even your boyfriend in the first place.

“Actually, I’d be glad to take the title of being your boyfriend instead.” And the thumping force inside your chest picks up the pace as you can feel your cheeks heating up. His simple acknowledgement makes you flustered, absolutely moonstruck. No one has ever said that to you before, well, partially because you’re super single but you can’t help but let those words affect you tremendously. “Where do you want to go for our honey—“

“We’re not getting married.” You hiss at him like a snake.

Minho draws a cat-like grin on his lips, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Nuh uh too late. I’ll consider you as my own from now on, Mrs. Lee.”

You reply flatly. “You talk a lot for a demon who treasures their beauty sleep. You’re not vampires and you don’t watch people in their sleep, do you ?” The only person Minho watches in their sleep is you, but he’s not saying that to your face. And that was one time, one-time.

Upon his silence, you raise a brow. “Wait, you do ?”

“Who I watch in their sleep is none of your business, Y/N.” He replies with flaming cheeks.

You giggle. “I knew it, you’re related to Edward Cullen.”

“No, not that bitch Edward !” Minho makes a disgusted face but can’t contain his laughter for long. God, what are you doing to him ?

seven.

You wake up with a cold sensation wrapping around your feet. With body shivering slightly, you instinctively nuzzle your head into the nearest heat source, retreating your legs deeper into the fuzzy blanket. Groaning, you shake your head slightly to shake the weariness away. This is why you hate long flights with a passion because you’re never not gonna be jet lagged for the rest of your life.

“Why do you always wake up so fucking early ?” Your eyes shoot open at the hoarse voice only to find Minho squinting his eyes at you sleepily with his bedhead and wrinkled shirt. He looks so human right now you can care less about the fact that you’ve just spent an entire night on your parents’ favorite couch with a creature from Hell. Definitely boyfriend material.

“My feet get cold easily in the morning, and that wakes me up.” You pout and hold his torso closer. Minho tries his best not to flinch when your arm brushes over his as the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. And you’re glad that he doesn’t snore and isn’t a messy sleeper. Just sleeps like the death, which makes sense. Unlike your best friend, Seo Changbin who sleeps like a fucking starfish with his four limbs wide open. Give him a king sized bed and he can still manage to have his blanket on the floor by the time the sun rises.

Minho runs a hand through the messy bird nest on his head which takes the breath right out of your lungs because it looks like those too good to be true shampoo commercials with people who have shiny, luminous hair. But those models spend hours on a wooden stool for their stylists to make it look like they didn’t even try but they’re not even close to Minho’s league because he needs none of that in order to look attractive.

Finally, he sighs. “Go back to sleep then.” He pulls the blanket down slightly to cover your feet completely and hugs your waist closer so that your upper body won’t be bothered by the morning breeze. “I’ll make breakfast later, what do your folks usually prefer ?”

You look up at him in awe. No one has ever offered such a sweet thing to do when they come over to your house. Not even your relatives ‘cause they’re far too busy bombarding you and Chan with questions about your personal lives rather than helping your parents out with washing the dishes after a meal is done. Minho might look cold and all but it’s all really just the typical demon facade that he’s trying to maintain. He’s actually really caring and thoughtful, you’ve found more sense of morality whenever you look into his eyes deeply than when you look at other people.

“Lee Minho is making breakfast for my family ? What’s this ? Is World War III coming ? Is the world hanging on the verge of ending ?”

He shakes his head at you in disapproval. “I just wanted to do something nice in return to last night’s dinner. Your parents really didn’t have to go all the way to the supermarket just because of me.” And he secretly enjoys seeing you munching happily on the food that he makes. How your cheeks are bunched up when you accidentally take too much of a bite, how your eyes light up in joy when you melt into the taste. He loves you for being you, for going all out without trying to act like a lady, eating quietly and shit.

You think for a bit. “They all have a big appetite, plus they’re not picky so anything will do. Just try to work with things in the fridge that you find promising ?”

“Oh okay.” Minho shrugs before leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep please, I beg. Jetlag is killing me, or else I’m gonna have to kiss you again and again until you get tired of me and doze off.”

With coral cheeks, you muster the calmest voice possible. “Is that a challenge ? Because if so, kiss me before I kick you off the couch.”  

He smirks at you. “If you’re willing to.” As he leans in closer, you can feel your confidence level decreasing dramatically, your heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill endless. You’re no longer brave enough to keep eye contact so your eyes are screwed shut at some point, waiting for his lips to collide with yours.

Suddenly his phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, making you two pull away in a hassle. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” Minho says sheepishly as he sits straight up and grabs his phone. The apologetic smile on his face drops when he sees the caller’s ID. He swipes right to answer, placing the cool device close to his ear. “Yeah, Hyunjin ?”

“Hyung, you’re going too far. Come back.”  

eight.

It’s been a few weeks later, and your family can’t stop gushing over how lucky you are to find a boyfriend like Minho.

You start getting daily voice messages from your parents, asking if you’re taking good care of yourself, if Minho’s treating you well, if anything’s been hard lately. Oh boy you sure regret running away before because your parents keep checking up on you every two hours. If not for Minho, they would have made you move back to Australia for who knows how long.

With that being said, Minho is obligated to move in with you. But you’re not complaining at all because cuddling with him is naturally carved into you like second nature. Even Jisung and Changbin didn’t bother to question why you start to have two mugs by the sink, two pairs of slippers by the shoe rack and a foreign smell of cologne all over your couch. They’ve probably figured it out that you got yourself ‘a man’ since the night that you came back to the apartment in such a rush.

And from then, you wonder why you’ve never considered having a roommate before. There are always really shitty excuses inside your head like : what if your roommate has some kind of questionable habits, what if they’re secretly a part of some mafia organization ? But really, it’s because he’s Lee Minho, because you’re too utterly soft for him. Nonetheless, you did learn a few things from spending more time with him rather than locking yourself up with work.

The feeling of having someone waiting for you to come home is beyond heartwarming. And you’ve also learnt to use your time and effort on someone else rather than just yourself. It actually feels really nice because his presence brings more than just a sense of comfort and happiness to you. There’s something about him that’s irreplaceable. As if he’s your soulmate, that one person who adores you to the moon and back, who’s willing to bring out the best in you and deal with you when you’re at your lowest.

But the whole concept of soulmate is still debatable because life isn’t just peaches and cream, it’s roses and thorns.

“Something’s bothering you, tell me.” You make the sharpest of a turn to the left to snap Minho back to reality. You don’t like when people keep ignoring your questions.

“Nothing’s bothering me.” He answers flatly. Obviously, he’s lying because he’s only spoken to you seven words maximum since you started the car. “Follow-the-GPS-to-reach-the-destination.” That’s it. No more. No less.

You scoff. “Something’s clearly bothering you. I don’t need your mind reading crap to know what you’re thinking.” You’re trying so hard not to take an argument out on him, especially when you’re driving to somewhere you don’t even know. But Minho’s not dumb, you bet he already had everything planned out on his mind. There’s a reason for everything, so you don’t have anything against driving in the middle of the night, just because he insisted you to.

He voices. “I’m thinking about surprising you.” And when you glance at him sideways, there are those specks of playfulness glistening in his midnight orbs again. But there’s also something else, and it’s unfathomable. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” He reassures you with a somewhat forced smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, carefully pulling over not to hit the tree by the road.

Minho jumps out of the vehicle first. “We’re here.” You roll your eyes at him playfully and follows not long after.

And the sight in front of your eyes leaves you speechless. Even in the eerie darkness, your eyes can still make out the vibrant display of multicolored flowers all over the green field. The sweet scent soon fills your nostrils, making your eyes go wide in awe. “Come on, over here.” Minho links his hand into yours and drags you along the dirt road, trying his best not to step on any flower. Once he stops, you realize that you’re in the middle of the field, surrounded by the most surreal things that you thought could only happen in fairy tales.

The sky represents a black curtain being draped over your entire universe, with milky swirls and glitter specks dancing elegantly in various patterns. It’s transcendental, you think. How the sight have all of your worries and concerns disintegrate into dust, how you’re here with him as time seems to stop when he looks at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. You’re hanging by this moment, waiting for him to say something. “Do you like it ?” He breathes out ever so softly.

You nod repeatedly. “I love it, thank you, thank you, thank you !” Mixed emotions burst inside your chest and you unconsciously fall into his embrace as if you were meant to be there all along. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting his more than familiar cologne hug you like a warm blanket.

Minho opens his mouth to say something but snaps it close later on. The bitterness inside is making him nauseous, burying every last bit of courage to the bottom pit of his stomach. He has so much, so much to tell you yet nothing comes out right.

He’s the first to pull away. “I’m glad that you like it, Y/N.” Take good care of yourself, okay ?

“Of course I like it, it’s everything !” You smile, not noticing how there are tears brimming in the corners of his eyes when it’s so dark outside.

Minho tries to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Close your eyes, the stars will grant a wish to whoever has enough sincerity and purity.” You’ll be fine without me, will you ?

“A wish ? I guess…” You close your eyes, tightening the grip on Minho’s hands, accidentally ignoring how his hands are getting colder, and colder by the second. “There, I made a wish !” Your eyes fly open as you giggle happily. “We should come here more often, don’t you think ? Promise me that we’ll be here every week.” You extend your pinky finger outwards.

Minho nods, intertwining his finger with yours. “I promise.” I’ll miss you.

As a silent tear rolls down on his cheek, his orbs flash a shade of crimson red.

eight & ½.

Changbin cries out dramatically. “Y/N, a little help over here ? Hello ?” He’s struggling real hard to open the door while carrying the groceries all by himself.

You quickly snap out of it, running to help him with the whopping five paper bags in his arms. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone who looked familiar.”

He cranes his neck tiredly after stuffing the bags into the backseats of his Tesla. “Could be some guy who reached out to you before. You know how the industry works, if they want you, they gotta have you. So be careful, creepy people are literally everywhere.”

“Right..” You trail off and jump into his car, shutting the door close. Even when Changbin twists his key and drives away from the supermarket, you can’t help but turn your head constantly to see if there’s anyone. On the way out, you made eye contact with someone, who has an odd ray of red in their eyes. Normally, things like this would have crept you out but you found an unexpected sense of familiarity in those eyes. Perhaps you’ve met before ?

But why… red ?

“Hey Bin…” You start. “Do you believe in soulmates ?”

Changbin snickers. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ? Are you sick ?”

You wave your hand to brush the topic off. “You’re right, I stayed up until three last night, can really use a nap right now.” Maybe everything’s in your head after all.

But little did you know, from across the streets, the silhouette of a demon who once shared unforgettable memories with you is embedded onto the cold brick wall. Minho has his arms crossed in front of his chest, mind blank, eyes empty. He only dares to watch in silence as your friend drives you away, fighting back the voices inside his head that are yelling at him to just hug you, to see your smile, to hear your laughter.

Little did you know, he longs to be by your side again. Minho tried to force himself into hating you but he can’t. He can’t because you taught him how to love, because you mean far more than just the universe to him, because blaming hurts more than trying to forget you. But before things get out of hand, he managed to get a hold of himself and decided to cut ties with you for good.

This is for the better, he keeps telling himself.

People say that there’s no sorrow in the demons. Since joy and sorrow are like fire and ice, there’s no possibilities for them to exist in the same subject. Demons are believed to find joy in those who despise God’s commands, and rejoice over this kind of sinister power. Therefore, there’s no sorrow in the demons. Meaning, demons can never feel heartbroken because they simply don’t have one.

If so, then why can Minho hear something shattering into pieces inside his chest ? That’s because he’s experienced something other demons aren’t supposed to. He finally knows what it feels like to actually be ‘someone’ to someone, what it feels like to think of them all day and smile stupidly about it.

And that’s something other demons are fortunate enough to not get themselves into. Because they wouldn’t want to know how painful it is to not being able to be with their loved one. Demons attract other demons by their scents so if a demon fell in love with a mortal being, that one human will live in constant danger.

Not to mention, it’s going against God to fall in love with someone who’s so different, so out of reach. And Minho could never risk losing you to anything but he can risk it all to protect you.

“I just feel so fucking broken.”

“You’ll be fine.” Hyunjin gently places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

But it is love after all… what can he do ?

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Drunk Punch Love: INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL

Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)

Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)

Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love

INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL: The End.

Shepard had been dead 232 days.

Garrus had been going over their new security measures when the apartment's front door pinged. It wasn't a sound he heard often, since all the crew had their own codes to the back door. But the Via siblings were new, and Butler's wife did sometimes stop by, so he figured it was just one of them.

What he didn't expect was a female turian with blue markings to have her arms crossed, looking at him like he just committed a crime. Before he could react, the glare faded and she smiled at him. Garrus' head still wasn't fully straight when she pulled him into her arms.

It only clicked together that this wasn't some damn fever dream when she started talking. "Happy birthday, baby brother!"

Oh. It was that day.

"I'd ask if I surprised you, but I already know I did." The second he shut his door behind him, closing off his vigilante world from his family, that damned brain of hers caught on and she peered at him. "I know you wouldn't have anything planned for your birthday, so what are you hiding?"

If it was his father, he could lie and say a woman and the man would happily walk away from the shut door, uninterested. But Solana was a different beast. She was curious, intrusive, and interested in damn near anything. It would be hard to keep her out of his apartment, lined with guns, gear, and a krogan casing the joint.

Also, she definitely would give him shit for his undecorated bedroom and that was a blast from the past he never wanted to deal with again.

So, his best shot was to go truth adjacent. "There was a break-in on my block. I have a consultant in there retrofitting my place with more security."

"You caring about your own well-being and safety is... new, but I won't complain." Solana snorted and shook her head at him, in her normal well-meaning but condescending way. "Only you would schedule a security consultation on your birthday. Were you going to do anything at all?"

Garrus leaned against his door and tried not to look too pissed off, because Solana knew the answer to that and was really just trying to push his buttons. Sure, that would be a stretch for anyone else, but his big sister? He knew how she operated. Probe for intel and then use that intel to make whatever point she was making infallible. He stuck with, "You know the answer to that."

"Doesn't the fact I know the answer to that speak volumes to the issue at hand?" Dammit. And he thought he said something neutral. Before he could spike back, she added, "It's been three years, Garrus, you're not dancing on mother's grave just because you dare to enjoy your birthday."

Now that one was a funny answer. "Really Sol? That's easy for you to say when she didn't die on yours."

"I've never liked the guilt games you and father play. Just yesterday he was messaging me about how it's his fault you react poorly to death and rebel. But do either of you do anything with that guilt? Because that's progress I'd like to see." Garrus almost laughed, because the one thing close to progress was also the one thing he really didn't want her to see. "Life happens. Death happens. Now, if I remember correctly, I begged for a sibling. So if not for yourself, let's celebrate the happiest day of my four year old life, meeting my little brother."

He wanted to stay mad and indignant, maybe even scare her off. But dammit, he cared too much about Solana for that. Groaning, he pushed off the door and conceded. "Fine, let's go get some food and see a flick or something. You did come all this way to see me."

"You're right, I did, so thank you for appreciating it." She walked forward first and he took the opportunity to cover his tracks. With a flick of his wrist he typed out a quick message to Jawth and Sidonis, asking them to hide the guns and clean up the place before he got back; that his sister came for a surprise visit.

They agreed without asking a single question. Which was good, because he'd rather off himself than tell those assholes what day it was.

Now the real landmine was keeping Solana from looking too deeply into the Archangel rumors. If that caught her interest, he was sure she could figure it out. He didn't expect her to snitch to their father, who would objectively hate what he was doing, but he also didn't know how she'd react.

Garrus just wanted his sister to remain his annoying, inordinately supportive sister. He didn't want that to get complicated.

Somehow, he managed to dodge all Archangel talk the entire time. His most impressive save was pretending to choke on something to be louder than and scare off a guy at the cafe who wouldn't stop talking about his crew and their latest hit. Solana definitely didn't need to hear about "That blue-ass sniper turian."

That was more than enough to get her curious.

When they got to his apartment door, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. They'd made it, all the way back to his place, and she still didn't know. She could spend the night here and then he could send her back off to her life on Palaven, no harm no foul.

But for all his attempts, he'd forgotten one small, terrible little factor.

Sidonis knew who he was, and that man had a lot of contacts.

The second the metal panels slid open, every single one of his team was there, grinning like mad, with a garrish looking cake stuffed with candles. And right in front of his sister, the fuckers yelled, "Happy birthday, Archangel."

There were a lot of times with Shepard he wished to kill a man, but this time, he wanted to kill nine.

Solana just glared at him with a knowing smirk. "I fucking knew you were hiding something!"

Garrus grabbed her arm and took her outside, where all his idiot team wasn't watching. He started talking, fast. "Sol, I-"

"If you say you're sorry, I'll know you're lying." She shook her head. "So you're the infamous merc-killer? Honestly, I should've known. It was probably just wishful thinking." He was too overwhelmed to know what to say to that, but luckily Sol was happy to fill in the blanks. "I won't tell father. He would hate you for doing this. Just don't keep secrets from me, okay? I love you."

"I can give you that."

"Good. Now, why don't we enjoy your party that your team set up?" Before she walked through the door, she squeezed his arm and frowned. A classic Sol look of distaste; last time he saw it, it was when a co-worker of hers tried to ask her on a date because "she had to say yes to someone eventually". If Solana was less composed, he was sure she would've punched him. "I'm not eating that cake, though."

"Don't worry. I would have told you not to."

/

Shepard had been dead 365 days.

All he could see were her eyes. Soft green, always laughing at something. Until she wasn't. But wherever things were good, she was laughing, and hard. Garrus couldn't quite get his head straight, but he hoped he said something funny. More than likely, what actually happened was that he did something awkward and dumb, but that was almost just as good.

When he started scanning the room, he realized they were by one of the observation windows on the Normandy. Despite all the chaos in their lives, they'd taken a moment to look at the stars. He always liked it here. Why'd he never bring her here?

Even when she stopped laughing, she kept smiling. Like she always did after a long day, she pulled her hair out of that tight bun thing and kept on shaking it with her fingers. Sometimes he wondered what it felt like, and not like when he accidently touched it during movie night. Like how she was doing, hands all in.

But it was safe to say that was a bit more than a CO and an ex C-sec officer should be doing.

He wasn't quite sure what he was saying, or why he was saying it, but he told her, "When I look at the stars, I think of you." Garrus wasn't really sure when he got all bold. Maybe it was this haziness he was feeling.

Shepard raised one of her hairy eyebrows at him. "We live in space. On a spaceship. We see stars almost constantly."

Garrus took a step closer to her, sometimes wondering how she got anywhere with how oblivious she could be. And god knows he normally wasn't this smooth but this time, right here, he said what he wanted to. "Exactly my point."

Blinking, it took her a few seconds to register what he said, and she even turned to look up at him. But when their eyes did meet? Hers softened like for once, she finally got it. Her cheeks even did that little blush thing when she was embarrassed. "Oh."

With that look, was like all of his normal discomfort came rushing back, all those feelings that always told him not to say stupid shit like that. He shouldn't have said that, right? All those things she said she felt were byproducts of a lonely, drunk night where he got too close and she was alone enough to get stuck on it. She didn't like it, she couldn't, and it was weird, he was ruining the whole friendship thing... "Shepard, forget I said that-"

But then, she did that human thing they always saw in movies. She got on her toes and pressed her lips against his. It was weird, soft skin against his plates, but it was her skin, and that was what mattered.

Maybe he hadn't ruined everything.

Shepard said, "I won't forget-"

Everything seemed so right, but just then the wall blew open and Shepard was being sucked out into space. Again. He tried to grab onto her arms, legs, anything to keep her there. No matter what he reached for, she slipped through his goddamn fingers.

When he woke up, his body was shaking and he wrapped his arms around his legs. He hated to admit this wasn't the first time he had a dream like that, one where Shepard wasn't gone.

Garrus had tried so hard to keep her at bay. One year later, but she was always still there.

As long as he could help it, though, his nightmares would be the only place she had left to live. Elsewhere, he had work to do. And as much as he felt for her, pined for her, his life didn't have place for stubborn, Russian spectres.

Garrus had a station to protect.

/

Shepard had been dead for 728 days.

He never should've left the apartment. Garrus figured his team could cover the last of the security measures while he helped Sidonis. It should've been easy.

But when he got there, Sidonis never showed up. And when he got back, there was blood everywhere.

He trusted Sidonis, from the first day he met him. The damned turian seemed honest about wanting to save people. But here they were, and Lantar fucked them.

They were all going to die here, weren't they?

Most everyone was down already. Their corpses were strewn all over the place, their faces locked in horror or dull emptiness. The only ones left alive were Ryel, Gibbon, and Butler.

But from the looks of it, Butler didn't have much longer.

He yelled at the crippled leftovers of his team and asked, "How's it looking?"

Gibbon answered, "Understandably terrible. We have a vantage point, but they have many waves of mercs."

Ryel added, "This balcony view is not as pretty with bullets and brains flying everywhere."

Before he could respond, Butler grabbed Garrus' arm. His abdomen was covered in blood and he could see his stomach lining. The guy normally wore gray pants, but they looked like they'd been dyed red. "I'm not gonna make it, huh?"

"Butler-"

"Nah, I know." He coughed. Garrus couldn't lie to him. "As much as I'd like to go screaming out Nalah's name, I want to hear about something that doesn't break my heart. Tell me about your Russian girl, Garrus. And for real this time."

For all the times Garrus shoved her away, maybe Butler was right. If he was going to die, he'd rather hear about her one last time. He said to the other two, "Hold the line and be careful."

Then, he sat down next to Butler and held his hand. After all this time, nearly two years, he just started talking about Shepard like she really was. "Her name was Anya. She was competitive to a fault and loved saying quotes while she watched movies. She loved to dance, but just by herself. She was a brave leader, but what mattered more was that she was... She was a beautiful, squishy human."

"A human? Never woulda guessed." He knew he already told Butler she was human, but it wasn't really the time to contradict him. Blood loss never helped make the brain a stronger machine.

Instead, Garrus just kept talking, his grip on Butler's hand getting tighter as the memories and feelings wound around his chest. "Me neither, but from all your stories, you didn't sound like you expected to fall in love with an Asari either."

"You're right. I didn't. Tell me more?"

"She was a classic soldier, until she wasn't. An infiltrator class, great with a pistol, terrifying, even. But sometimes she'd walk into debriefings with sweatpants and her hair a mess, swearing about something the pilot did to her toothpaste. And I wondered how that person was the same one that inspired a whole ship, every day. But she did."

"And?" Butler looked at him knowingly, deliberately.

Today, Garrus let the dying man win. "And you were right, Butler. I loved her."

With one final smirk, his hand fell.

When Butler stopped breathing, Garrus picked up his gun, got behind cover like Ryel and Gibbon, and started shooting.

If he was going to go down, he was gonna go down fighting. And this time, he wouldn't stop thinking about her. This time, if he was gonna die, she'd be the last thing on his mind.

No matter where he went, he was stuck with her. Forever.

///

After a little interlude into Garrus' two years without Shepard, we can finally start getting Anya awake and moving in his direction. I am SO ready.

I read on tumblr a couple weeks ago that apparently a lot of people write their own version of 4 things: their first meeting, the rocket-to-the-face, the night before the suicide mission, and "this is the best spot on the citadel.

I know it's stupid, but I honestly feel kinda proud that I ignored their first meeting entirely. And also that my suicide mission night will be VERY different. Is it a stupid thing to be proud of? Yes, but at my core I'm kinda a trash hipster and I can feel pride and shame in that.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! And extra thanks to my lovely patrons:

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[maladaptah]

Im so close to being done w this random deer…… :D……. Like done in one day level of ready! Which makes me super happy cause i now know it’s possible for me to be able to make art good enough to post much faster and Ok so I know I said I was going to finish that orange dog and I did think about and plan to I just woke up this morning and wanted to like practice with something quick as a warm up because I know from experience that I do my best work when I’m just coming down from the high of a quick mindless drawing that actually ended up turning out really cute, like I just knew that it would give me heaps of art energy. So to start the day off on the right foot you know- I was like oh I just need to crank soemthing out that’s easy and cute and I really REALLY liked that monkey I posted a couple of days ago which was exactly what I needed… an accidental warm up that turned out cute and took under 30mins …. So I thought id do something similar today! The monkey was basically just sketching over a random thumbnail concept painting of a design I didn’t care abt and haphazardly coloring it so I went and found another shitty concept painting of something to line over

Butttttt what was originally supposed to be a simple cleanup of an existing meh design turned into a - oh I’ll just slightly- update the color pallete a little bit and then just some small slight little changes to the silhouette and then before I knew it I was on yet another Pinterest image collecting tangent completely revamping the entire design and relearning how to draw a new species….. just….yeah… basically I chewed through all my best working hours today so i only have a good 2hrs left of drawing energy before I start becoming too tired to make good art but too unwilling to go yet another day without finishing that FAKCING orange dog so I stress stay up and tell myself I’ll have a short break to unwind and then the short break becomes a fixation on some new tv series or YouTube genre and I watch videos for 10hrs and then it’s the next day and I’ve been awake for 25hrs and no longer live in my countries Timezone and then oh it’s okay I’ll just pull an all nighter to remix it so I try to stay up the entire day as well but I get tired at the 30hr mark and fall asleep at an even more awkward time and then I remember just as I’m drifting off that oh shit my aunties coming over so I stress half awake half asleep nap for 2hrs where I stress wake up every 10 minutes ruining my rem because I think every little noise is my auntie at the door. And then it’s day 365 of not finishing that orange dog and being awake 20hrs and just ….. wish I had adhd medication or like cognitive therapy or somehting…my sleep health has been fucked my whole life like… doesn’t that shit shave years off ur life… and like gives u pimples and like this FUCKINF orange dog

But yah anyways I’m nearly done w this random deer woohooooooo😆😆😆😆 it’s gna be dressed like 70s Austin power flamboyant he/him kinda vibes! I cbf cleaning up the clothed version rn cos Ik that will shave another 10 years off of my life span so its just like normal water deer coloring dont have ur hopes too high oh and….. I’m not like 100% in love with the fur patterning but yk it was SUPPOSED to be something easy and I need to just let it be and I already decided the jacket and glasses save it okay just trust me….. like it’s cute w clothes …… I promise …. it really solves the color blocking issues and like most furries are clothed anyway?? Right so it doesn’t matter and it was supposed to be easy and ugly not my magnum opus and the coloring and anatomy isn’t too bad so it’s fine and like and and such as and therefore !!!!!!

[girlkirk-blog]

SPIRK (for the otp ask meme) !!! xoxo

omg hey!! HOW ARE YOU?

1- Who is the most affectionate?

I’m going to say that Spock is? I know that’s kind of a curve ball for some people but I believe that he shows affection in a very different way from what a lot of people are used to. Like, his affection is checking to make sure everything is alright. You know how in the Shore Leave episode (when they go to that planet and Bones sees a furry and then gets stabbed) Spock tells Kirk that there’s someone who desperately needs some time off and Kirk’s like “YES GOOD IDEA MR. SPOCK I WANT EVERYBODY TO BE HAPPY BC i’M JAMES T HAPPYPANTS” and Spock’s like “jokes on you, it’s you, go bye now” so I think that Spock’s affection is the best type of affection – it’s not all cuddles and quick kisses, Spock’s is things like making sure Jim has eaten, that Jim is okay, etc. 

2-Big spoon/Little spoon?

Spock: Big Spoon

Kirk: Little Spoon (even though he hates it sometimes)

3-Most common argument?

Probably something about how “illogical” Jim’s decision was that day. Like, “Jim, it was highly illogical for you to challenge that alien that was approximately 40.6 times larger than you to a duel” and Jim’s like “suck it logic i BELIEVE IN MIRACLES” (omg i’m making jim such a joke i’m sorry i’ll stop now)

4-Favorite non-sexual activity?

Probably legit being huge nerds with each other. Kirk was known for being basically a pile of books with legs at the academy, and I feel like in their downtime, Spock and Kirk just like go to town with the computer’s library and float all these theories and concepts past each other. Like, Spock tries to help Kirk with the logic of his thought and Kirk tries to help Spock see past the logic in his thought to come to more conclusions. 

5-Who is most likely to carry the other?

KIRK IS MOST LIKELY TO CARRY SPOCK 24/7, 365 EVEN THOUGH IT SHOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE BC OF VULCAN BONE DENSITY

6-What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

I think Kirk really likes Spock’s pointy ears. I feel like he always hates it when they have to go and do recon on a planet and they have to cover Spock’s ears up with a beanie or something. I feel like as soon as they’re away from the other people on the planet, Jim quickly takes off Spock’s lil beanie. 

I feel like Spock’s favorite feature of Jim’s is his eyes. I don’t know, I guess Spock just likes them because they’re legit windows to what Jim is thinking? Jim is really good at composing himself and never panicking, but Spock is always able to look for Kirk’s eyes to see exactly what the captain is thinking – he doesn’t even have to use the mind link. 

7-What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

HOT DANG THE INTERACTIONS ON THE BRIDGE??? I have a feeling that they’ll both start analyzing each other a lot (before they confess their feelings.) Like every single time Spock stops to talk to Kirk, Kirk is always like “I MUST ANALYZE EVERYTHING DOES HE LIKE ME BC I LIKE HIM HOLY CRAP WAIT WHAT DID HE SAY ABOUT AN ASTEROID BELT APPROACHING? SHUT UP CHEKOV I’M TRYING TO LISTEN” and Spock just tries his hardest to logically explain WHY the captain would have feelings for him? 

The whole Bridge starts to get annoyed and bones is like “y’all kidding me? y’all kidding me? I’VE BEEN PUTTING UP WITH THIS BY MYSELF FOR LEGIT YEARS” and the atmosphere on the bridge is just kind of funny (in a good way) and Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov are always serving up each other looks. Like, “lmao did you see Spock just check out Kirk’s ass?” 

8-Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

Hmmm. I don’t feel like Spock and Kirk are big on nicknames, unless you count “Jim” as a nickname, which it kind of is since Kirk’s first name is actually James. 

9-Who worries the most?

Kirk. Definitely Kirk. You can’t tell me that Kirk doesn’t worry his ass off about Spock, especially during the episode “Journey to Babel” – Jim is so concerned about Spock’s relationship with his father. Like, he wants to know all about it and he wants to help so bad. ALSO I think Spock also worries A WHOLE BUNCH because he’s just always on high alert to be on the look out for his captain – like in that one episode when the flowers SHOOT OUT THORNS AT PEOPLE?? AND SPOCK LEGIT STANDS IN FRONT OF KIRK AND GETS IMPALED WITH THEM TO PROTECT JIM??

10-Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Spock. Dude has a photographic memory and it’s legit amusing but also terrifying when they have little fights. Spock just pulls out “Do you recall what occurred on Eminar VII when…” and Kirk’s like “SPOCK NO?”

11-Who tops?

I think it’s like a cycle – they’ll take turns, whoever is up to it at the time. 

12-Who initiates kisses?

(I already answered this one, so check it out!)

13-Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Spock. I think he just really likes the feel of Kirk’s hand in his? I also think that it’s just instinct, since Vulcan hands are so sensitive. I kind of think it may be the first thing to really calm a Vulcan down – for them to reach out their hand and have their hand held by someone they are close to. 

14-Who kisses the hardest?

Kirk, no doubt. 

15-Who wakes up first?

KIRK. Kirk is the BIGGEST morning person in the FREAKING GALAXY. He’s one of those people that’s like “AH YES MORNING *HUGE CRAZY DEEP INHALE* HELLO GALAXY! I’M STAR TREKKIN’” (ok i’m sorry i just love kirk so much) 

16-Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

I think it’s neither, really. Spock isn’t energized by mornings, but he’s also not exhausted and dislikes them. I think that when Jim gets up, Spock usually gets up as well. 

17-Who says I love you first?

Spock. And it happens in the most VULCAN WAY EVER. like, i’m a slut for the th’y’la trope, y’all already know. Like in all my fics for Star Trek TOS, it always revolves around the expose of “CAPTAIN KIRK IS SPOCK’S FATED” because i just love that trope and nobody can pry it from my hands. So I think it happens when Spock is just like “ok it’s a matter of time before we accidentally fully mind meld so i better just get this over with” 

I believe that they SHOW each other that they are madly in love with each other through their actions such as making sure the other is okay, basically SACRIFICING themselves for the other, etc. I think that when it comes to doing it verbally, they’re both lil nervous babies. 

18-Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

I think Kirk would be the one to leave notes and they’d be cute little things like “you’re a vulCAN not a vulCAN’T” and stupid stuff like that, and it begins to grow on Spock a lil bit and he keeps all of the post-it notes that Kirk puts up. 

19-Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

I feel like EVERYBODY ABOARD THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE knows that Spock and Kirk are in a relationship, even before Spock and Kirk do, so that’s not really applicable. I feel like Spock tells his mama first because Amanda is that mom that wants to know everything and whenever Spock contacts her she’s always asking about that “nice kirk boy!” and junk and Spock’s just like “UGH FINE” and Amanda’s all excited like “JUST WAIT ‘TIL I TELL YOUR FATHER” 

20-What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

I think that all their friends LOVE it, even though Bones acts like he’s always suffocated by it. I don’t think Bones EVER feels left out, because they’re such an amazing friend group, and they’re all so close, so Bones isn’t threatened by the officialness of the kirk/spock relationship. I think he just LOVES to tease about it and frustrate Kirk and Spock by being a lil southern cockblock. 

As for family, I think that everybody likes it too. Amanda is like the #1 Spirk fan and Sarek is pretty okay with it – he doesn’t really mind either way, I think. 

21-Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Kirk loves to dance like a freaking idiot sometimes, but Spock isn’t really into dancing, so he’ll stand there and just watch, like “…please don’t throw out your back like last time, Doctor McCoy won’t be as understanding this time” 

22-Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

REPLICATOR SQUAD, enough said. (I think that they’d both suck at cooking tbh) 

23-Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Spock actually starts with them first, because he probably asks Bones for some RARE ADVICE and Bones is like “holy shit is this really happening????” when Spock asks Bones about earth relationship advice. So Bones is like “just do these pick up lines and you’re golden” and Spock tries one and instead of Kirk just being like “the fuck is this” he just laughs and loves it. 

24-Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Kirk, because Spock does it through the mind meld lmao

25-Who needs more assurance?

I think they both do. I think that they both need each other very badly – one can’t exist without the other. It’s like that whole entire “by your side” thing. It’s where they’re meant to be. That being said, I think that they’re both VERY assured in their relationship. 

26-What would be their theme song?

“You Sexy Thing” by Hot Chocolate (AKA THE “I BELIEVE IN MIRACLES” SONG  all because of that DAMN video someone made (and it’s my FAVORITE of all time) where there’s that #CLASSIC scene where Spock is like “Captain, you make me almost believe in luck…” and Kirk is like “why mr. spock…you almost make me believe in MIRACLES” and the damn song plays while the credits come on. 

27-Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

aww omg omg omg my fav thing is a kirk/spock raising a child together thing and it brings a tear to my eyes y’all. um. I think that Spock probably would. I think Spock would be extremeLY affectionate with the child. Maybe because he realizes that the child is kind of like him as a child – a human parent with a vulcan parent. and he wants the child to feel like they really do belong. (wipe ur tears i’m crying too)

28-What do they do when they’re away from each other?

wait until they see each other again lmao

29-one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart.

oh dang. okay, here goes. i have this head canon that spock is super super insecure about confessing his feelings for jim, because here’s jim – this huge ass ray of sunshine that LOVES to laugh and smile and he’s just so open, and Spock feels like, since he is a Vulcan, he cannot make jim laugh or so happy like that since it just isn’t in his nature? I also feel like Spock sees Jim as almost unattainable, because here is this amazing captain that he loves to serve under, ofc, but STARFLEET REGULATION and it also doesn’t help that literally almost EVERYWHERE they stop Jim runs into a former female friend or something. (which is something that I really do love because it really shows feminist kirk because he still treats them with respect and love!) 

30-one headcanon about this OTP that mends it.      

Kirk knows that it’s hard for Spock to feel like he can fully express himself, and Kirk is fine with that. So that’s why Kirk flirts so openly and freely with Spock and smiles around him. Spock makes him happier than anything else in the universe, and nothing could ever replace him. (AKA SEARCH FOR SPOCK HELLO?????). So Kirk is always at Spock’s side, smiling and laughing and trying to encourage Spock and is patient with him.

thanks for the ask! and sorry for writing so much!!!