#also she wants to go a convenience store to find some .... makeup...

[vilebodys]

a  smile  crosses  delicate  features,   voice  wrapped  in  dripping  honey  and  draped  with  feigned  sweetness  as  if  it  would  disguise  the  crude  words  falling  from  her  lips.     ❛  you  still  remember  how  to  kill,  right  ?  ❜  she  asks,  a  statement  more  than  a  question,  and  perhaps  if  listened  closely  resembling  an  order.  she  hates  getting  her  hands  dirty,  bloody  actually  and  death  always  sticks  and  lingers  too  long.  “  i  mean  if  not,  don’t  follow  me  .”  you’d  be  useless  .  a  thought  that  would  never  escape  her  and  threaten  her  facade  she’d  tailored  flawlessly.  “  i  don’t  want  you  to  get  hurt  .  ”

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : OPEN 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : that one secret exit to get outside

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

Heyoooo

First of all, I just want to say that I absolutely love all of your stories, I feel like you totally understand every characters from SnK and I couldn't stop smiling every time I was reading something wholesome (and my heart was breaking when it was sad kfkdndndn), can't wait to start your Jean x Reader slow burn fic. 🤗

I was wondering if I could request some headcanons for girlfriend Pieck x f!reader (if it's alright to ask for f!reader ofc, if not simply g!neutral) ? 👉👈

(Btw, in your masterlist, when we click for the Zeke boyfriend link, it's actually the Dilf!Jean x reader)

Have a nice day/night. 😊

a/n: thank you so much, i adore you! i hope you love my jean fic so much, just bare with me because the first chapter needs to be edited! wlw/mlm/etc relationships are perfectly fine here, and they always will be. i've been waiting for people to request wlw, i feel like it doesn't get enough love and tysm for telling me about my masterlist! i will fix it, anyway heres

girlfriend pieck finger

the sleepiest girlfriend in the whole entire world. she's always sooo tired, no matter how much rest she gets the previous night. always rubbing her eyes and yawning.

pieck naturally smells really good. it's a natural but sweet type of smell. she also has exquisite taste in perfumes and shampoos.

she's not much of a chef but she enjoys baking. her favorite thing to make is probably cupcakes because they're quick, simple and delicious.

she has a really loud laugh. you don't find it obnoxious at all. it's beautiful and reminds you of some sort of celestial being.

i'd say her love language is giftgiving with physical touch being a close second. she's the type to bring you 'just because' flowers.

your relationship with her is entirely freeing and healing. there is no toxicity about it.

she's a bit of a night owl so often times the two of you will be running to the nearest convenience store in the middle of the night for snacks.

pieck doesn't really dress up unless it involves you two going on a date. she likes to wear cute sundresses that are a little bit floral, but not the ugly type of floral. you know what i mean.

she's your biggest supporter. she listens to you so intensely. she's also highly opinionated and will tell you the truth even if it hurts, but she'll deliver it in a nice way.

it's hard to fight with her. she just blankly stares at you and blinks her big grey eyes until you calm down.

she isn't really the jealous type but loves to make the "that musta been your other girlfriend" joke.

she loves to play with your hair. brush it, braid it, curl it, etc.

pieck can't do her own makeup to save her life but she likes to practice on you and it turns out beautiful but also interesting.

she adores her forehead and cheeks being kissed.

she likes to sing with you.

pieck is also very fearless, very bold despite her sweet little face. she's very proud to be your girlfriend. she lets everyone know you're her partner and she is yours. she doesn't care what people think or what they say.

my ko-fi

[deadzonedenizen]

Any fun facts about Bell,Alix,Rasmus,and Gibby?

I'm shaking rn, why didn't I see this earlier-

Okayokayokay-

*clears throat*

Bell:

-His name is short for Bellamy. (Rasmus' idea) The nickname came first. (Tang's idea)

-The stuff he consumes is...questionable. MK and Mei constantly bet on what Bell drinks that morning, and whether or not it's matcha or battery acid.

-Bell lives with Sandy, so the others joke about him being a feral stray Sandy added into his collection of therapy cats. (Even though it's him that needs therapy)

-Despite his own questionable food cravings, Bell is a pretty good cook and baker. Unlike Pigsy though, he doesn't perform as well in a professional setting. Bell does it purely to unwind. Also he's a fan of Chang'e, no surprises there.

-Bell likes exploring abandoned places! It's been something he had been doing ever since he was young. He'd even pack his bag full of convenience store snacks for the trip. Sometimes he finds papers of family recipes in some decrepit houses, and would try to replicate them himself.

-Bell has this weird tendency that makes him unable to go anywhere without wearing something with pockets. Either his hands are in the pockets, or they're holding something like Gibby's flutes. He feels weird if his hands are just dangling out. Similarly, he feels weird walking barefoot inside (how un-Asian of him!) and walk with socks on instead.

-If he can't keep his hands occupied, he'd try to shake it off by crocheting little clowns for Gibby, carving linoleum stamps to fill space on his sketchbook with, or whatever creative outlet he can use with the materials available. (He prefers painting, but cleaning the resulting goliath of a mess isn't worth it, so he only does it in whatever abandoned place is nearest.)

-He usually makes Ronghua flowers instead, since it just so happens that silk and metal wires are the cheapest things he can buy in the handicraft store. Not like he can garden actual flowers without them dying anyway. So many chia pets have lost their lives to him.

-Recent events have left him physically allergic to the word 'd*stiny'. Instead, he refers to it as 'the D-slur'.

-The first time Wukong met him, he called him Blue Son. MK and Mei never stopped teasing him with that name ever since. But if we're talking about the first person he met in Megapolis in general, then it's Mei, who then proceeded to knock him out by throwing a pair of pliers straight to his face.

-Bell is pretty much the back-up hero by day, but is the one patrolling at night. Unlike MK or Mei, he keeps his identity a secret for privacy's sake. He does enjoy seeing people lose their minds on the internet when it comes to theorizing about his identity, and even spread false rumors from alt-accounts just to further stir the pot.

-Don't let Bell drive. Don't ever let Bell drive. It should be illegal to leave him unattended in a room with anything that has wheels without supervision from a responsible adult. (Tang does not qualify as a responsible adult.)

-Bell can't sleep without a pillow to cling on. He is touch-starved, your honor.

-He's deathly scared of bigger birds like eagles and owls (lmao Peng). The only exceptions are pelicans because of how goofy they are. Pelicans have Bell's upmost respect.

-Bell is a theater kid, specifically the musical breed. He can't actually act out non-song dialogue onstage because he's prone to forgetting his lines. Lyrics are just easier to memorize than spoken dialogue for him, so he doesn't have any interest in actual acting. He's good at ad-libbing though, and can definitely sing, while knowing how to play Gibby's flutes and the piano to boot.

Alix:

-Alix' thing is makeup, but more specifically sfx makeup. It all started when one of her brothers used to jumpscare her, so she practiced using sfx gore makeup to jumpscare him back. (She still does that)

-Being a makeup artist isn't her exact main goal. Really, she wants to be a horror movie director one day. She already has an analog horror series in the works, even though it still needs some polishing.

-She also has a podcast channel about true crime, urban legends, and lost media, surprise surprise. Though she prefers to stay anonymous by wearing a fox mask.

-Her birthday is in Halloween, so she likes spooks in general! It gives her an excuse to dress up in costumes and look like a cosplayer without seeming out of place. She was definitely a creepypasta kid.

-Biologically, Alix is more Huli Jing. But she inherited more of her abilities from her mother's side. Lots of butterflies.

-Alix is recovering from a crippling bubblegum addiction. Most of her childhood and teen years was spent on her chewing gum. Occasionally, she'd experience bubblegum relapses and end up taking a piece without even realizing...until the vendor yells at her for not paying.

-She's somewhat interested in candy making in general. Once, she made a lollipop that would stain someone's lips for a long enough time that it made for a lip tint substitute. It became popular in her old elementary because of students being banned from actual lip tint. But when it comes to snacks in general, she's a sucker for tanghulu. Her handle is literally Tanghulu_Queen.

-She has a little online side gig with custom phone cases and keychains! She doesn't have that many people ordering, but it's decent enough for a side gig.

-She was in the commentary community before, but left after realizing that the toxicity wasn't worth it. It sometimes still shows when she's criticizing something.

-Her commentary phase was a byproduct of her mean girl era. Her old school's overall competitiveness fed into that, which Alix grew out of after graduating. She still tries to apologize to any of her old classmates that she come across.

-Alix doesn't just use makeup to make fake wounds, but also hide real ones as well. Bruises anyway, makeup on open wounds aren't a good idea. It's not the proudest thing she does, but sometimes a villain attack in the city ends up with her getting some bruises, and she doesn't want her parents to go back to having a bodyguard stalk her all of the time.

-Alix is the living example of a person's aesthetic not matching her playlist. Her playlist mostly consists of Sabaton.

-Alix also had a sporty streak in gymnastics, but quit after another competitor sabotaged her equipment during a competition, resulting in a leg injury that required her to be hospitalized.

-She likes koi. Growing up, she loved going to places with koi ponds. But ever since her parents caught her with a koi fish in her mouth, they never let her near a koi pond unsupervised ever since.

-She's a huge workaholic, to the point that she works to distract herself from anything bothering her. That usually comes with good results with her efforts, but also the added pressure to keep it that way.

Rasmus:

-His real name is Rashmil Ranganathan. Erasmus and Rasmus are both just nicknames he got from his social media handle, Raspberry_Mousse. His Chinese name is Lan Muyang for convenience, but Megapolitans call him Rasmus anyway.

-He's Indian, but his mother's side of the family is part of the ten percent Indian population in Martinique! It's his father's side who's actually from India. He favors his mom's side of the family over his dad's though. Anyone would, if the latter constantly talked about them lagging behind while being compared to their cousins.

-His host family in his gap year in China is actually Bai He's, and she is the reason why Rasmus has memorized the extensive lore of Studio Ghibli films and the magical girl genre. So he basically doubles as her babysitter. Bai He would stir up all sorts of trouble, and Rasmus would just wave it off as a typical child's behavior.

-When designing an outfit, he tends to gravitate towards more traditional wear with a modern touch. It's why he takes cultural research seriously, to avoid appropriating any with his works. He takes advantage of his role as a junior photojournalist to consult artisans from those cultures, while also photographing their works to share it to the world. Whether in his socials, or the magazine he works for.

-It was actually something he did before he aimed for the fashion industry! His investigative streak had to come from somewhere. He was the former head editor of his school magazine, in an international school full of students from different backgrounds. It was actually how he met Alix who was an exchange student at the time, for a Chinese section of the magazine.

-Speaking of Alix, while under the apprenticeship of her parent Mx. Zixin, Rasmus is currently more of a tailor than a designer. So it's part of the job to take measurements from usually high profile personalities, given they can afford a custom outfit straight from the brand. This also means he sometimes ends up eavesdropping on private conversations that he wouldn't have heard otherwise.

-He's one of those types of people that like putting whatever herbs he can in his ice cubes. Mostly just because he can. It's not even for drinks most of the time, he just straight up munches on them.

-He has something called maladaptive daydreaming. Basically he daydreams a lot that he tends to tune out reality to the point of it being a hindrance in his day-to-day life. His triggers especially include music and the fantasy novels he reads. He can't guarantee that he'll read every book recommended to him though. He has an unread stack of shame that he keeps hidden for a reason.

-Rasmus sometimes pulls out the 'it's part of our culture back home' card whenever he does some questionable stuff. Alix can see through that, but gave up trying to stop him. She knows that he just wanted to mess with people. Yes, even his accent is somewhat fake. Well, the accent is real, but the speech patterns aren't.

-He's not just knowledgeable in a lot of health facts, but is incredibly good at first aid, and the necessary procedures needed for most emergency situations. His mom may be a surgeon, but if he had to be in the med field, he's better suited as a paramedic.

-When he came out as pansexual to his parents, they pretended to be surprised.

-Magpies love him. His hair is their nest. At first, it annoyed him because of how much time he puts on keeping his hair neat, and had to result to using citrus oil to repel them... only to find out it's too strong for his nose as well.

-He has this tendency to silently approach someone from behind, catching the person off-guard as if he just teleported. Everyone agrees that someone needs to put a bell on him.

-Rasmus is also pretty good at floriography, or the language of flowers. He can give someone a bouquet to insult them and their ancestors and they would never know.

-Rasmus doesn't have many strong opinions. But prepare for an hour long rant about fast fashion, toxic trends, and unethical practices when you bring up Shein and the like.

Gibby:

-Her full name, Long-armed Gibbon, isn't really a lie. There's just some shapeshifting shenanigans involved.

-Gibby hatched from a pearl! Once, she was but a pearl in an oyster sitting on the seafloor. There's more to Gibby's birth than that, but that'll have to stay under the wraps for now.

-Her gimmick is sand/stardust. Her clones are made of the stuff, after all. Anyone that inhales it immediately falls asleep. This is... also probably a good time to mention she can travel through dreams.

-Remember the secret base Sandy made out of pillows? It didn't go to waste, don't worry. It's been moved inside, where it is now Gibby territory. Her most frequent visitor is a Siamese kitten named Gibby Jr.

-She gets the zoomies at times, which means the gang has to deal with what is basically a comet bouncing off the walls. Not fun for anyone involved. She does make a squeaky noise every impact though.

-One of Gibby's biggest gripes with being tethered to Bell is that she can't write shipping charts and dirty fanfics about her friends. Bear in mind that her definition of dirty is holding hands.

-She hates hats. But really, that's only because they stop her from perching herself on someone's head.

-She loves durian! Although the smell might be hard to ignore, but she couldn't care less. It's better than that one time she ate a kidney stone (Don't ask). She hates jackfruit though, seeing it as the lesser durian.

-She hates it when immortals, demon or celestial, make comments about her wasting her potential. She couldn't grapple their reasoning that she should make a huge name for herself just because she was born powerful. She just wants to have fun, and having all of those responsibilities sound boring.

-She likes chalk! Drawing with them, and eating them. She's envious of her friends' drawing abilities, Wukong and MK's especially, but she doesn't realize how good she is at chalk, not understanding that it's an art medium too.

-Statues, mannequins, wax figurines, and the likes scare her to death. She couldn't understand how a non-living thing can resemble a living person so much, and it scares her to think that it can move whenever she's not looking.

-Gibby actually had a mentor in the past, in the form of Nezha's brother, Muzha. Long story short, Gibby lost control of her powers. But before the Celestial Realm could punish her, Guanyin instead offered to have one of her disciples train her to better control them.

-Where Wukong is See No Evil, and Macaque is Hear No Evil, Gibby is Speak No Evil. One ability she has allows her to mimic a past conversation that took place in the area she's in, with the accuracy down to voice. She's also a horrible liar, and uses technical truths if confronted by an enemy.

-Gibby is talented in many instruments. Just some of them include her flutes, the pipa, the accordion, the pan pipes, and the kalimba. But no matter the instrument, wild animals tend to be attracted to the music she makes.

-She likes animals, but especially bugs. She once went into a pet store with Bell and was completely fixated on an ant farm the entire time. Though if she had to pick a favorite, it's definitely fireflies. Her earliest memories on the Mortal Realm include chasing fireflies in a field.

Bonus facts!

-Bell, Alix, and Rasmus' trio name is the Lush Berry Trio! Why? Let's just say, Lush Berry Jungle is an important location in THE LORE™️.

-Bell and Gibby's duo name is the SeaMonkey duo! I know Gibby's an ape, but shush. I have my reasons.

-Rasmus and Alix's duo name is the Cosmopolitan duo, like the magazine. The blanks fill themselves lmao.

-Bell and Alix sometimes trade each other's unused clothes. They started doing it after finding out they're the same size when Rasmus was taking their measurements.

[skzfanf1cs]

Stray Kids Academy - Chapter 6 : Making Up and Tattoos

Series Masterlist

Main Pairing [This Chapter] : Bang Chan / Original Female Character

Warnings : misunderstandings but ends in making up, tattoos, sexually explicit content, vaginal fingering, sex in a public area, protected sex

Word Count : 5,291

Levi Mitchell

It was a little later in the day and everyone was starting to feel slightly better. Zeke was laying on the couch in his pajamas, scrolling on his phone. Luna was also in her pajamas, but on the floor, seated in front of the coffee table. She was looking at her exposed neck and shoulders in a small mirror and trying to find the perfect combination of makeup to cover up all her hickies.

Zeke put his phone on his chest before looking over at me. “Should we address the elephant in the room, or?”

I flinched slightly. “What exactly are you talking about?”

“You’ve been quiet all day.” Luna mentioned. “Something is obviously wrong.”

Zeke sat up and scooted over on the couch, patting the seat next to him. “You can tell us. This is a judgment free zone.”

“You say that, but then you judge.” Luna started to say as she put her makeup back in her small bag.

“Luna, shush.”

I just rolled my eyes and went to sit next to Zeke. “If I’m gonna tell you, I really need this to be a judgment free zone.”

Zeke and Luna nodded. I took a deep breath. “I fucked up, guys, and I really don’t know how to fix it.” I explained how I got drunk, how Seungmin threw out the guy that was coming onto me, and how we slept together. “I was just drunk and horny, and he threw that guy out, which was hot. But, I just don’t know what to do.”

It was silent for a while. Until, Zeke broke the silence. “Serious question, though. Was he good?”

“Zeke, not the time.” I covered my face with my hands.

“It is a valid question.” Luna mumbled before shaking her head. “But, maybe don’t ask when she’s mourning her friendship.” That also didn’t help.

“He’s my best friend. I don’t want to ruin what we had.” I felt like crying.

“Okay, why don’t you talk to him?” Luna went to pat me on the knee. “If he is your best friend, you guys can talk it out.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Zeke got up and looked out the window. Then, he quickly turned towards us. “Well, you better figure it out quick.”

“Can’t we just pretend we aren’t home?” I tried to suggest.

“Naw, we made eye contact. He knows we are home.” Zeke looked apologetically at me. “Luna, maybe we should go to the other room.”

They quickly retreated as I reluctantly walked to the door. I took a deep breath and opened it, revealing Seungmin. I opened the door wider for him to come in, which he did. And, there we were, in the middle of the living room.

“You left.” He started. “I guess, after last night, I thought…”

“Listen.” I began. “About last night, we were both drunk, we weren’t thinking, we can’t do this. I love you, but I don’t see you that way.”

“Why don’t you see me that way?” He looked down at his shoes. “How am I not good enough for you?”

I was at a loss for words. My mind was reeling. “Minnie-”

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped. He looked up, tears in his eyes. And, it fucking broke my heart. “I get it. I was stupid to think you’d see me that way.” Then, he turned on his hell, opened the front door, and slammed it on the way out.

I completely fell apart. I fell to my knees and started sobbing. Luna was the first to pull me into a hug, Zeke following close behind, and joined the hug. They held me as I sobbed.

They eventually calmed me down, wrapped me up in my favorite blanket, Zeke ran to the closest convenience store to get my favorite snacks, ice cream, and drinks. Then, we put on my favorite movies. But, the feeling in my chest wouldn’t go away.

I got a text from Chan about an hour later. I opened the message and smiled slightly before I felt guilty for smiling.

Chan : How about that coffee I promised you?

Chan : Meet at the cafe in 15?

Me : okay

It took some convincing from my siblings to let me go. But, after promising I won’t go off the deep end, they let me loose.

Bang Chan

Zeke called me and gave me a warning about Seungmin’s mood. He didn’t give me specifics, claiming it wasn’t his business to tell. Meaning, it had something to do with one of his sisters. Zeke was a gossip and would spill anything if asked, as long as it didn’t include any of his sisters.

Seungmin went straight to his room after coming home, slamming his door. Something was wrong and I needed to know.

I went to the stairs and knocked on Seungmin’s door. He opened the door, he looked like he’d been crying. “What?” He snapped.

“Whoa, what happened to you?”

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, obviously trying not to cry more. “Why don't you go ask Levi?”

“Hey…” I started in a calm voice. If I raised my voice, it could escalate things and Seungmin could feel worse. “Just because you are mad at her, doesn’t mean you can take it out on me. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Seungmin took a deep breath and opened his door wider to let me in. I stepped inside and sat on the bed next to him. He took another deep breath before telling me what happened. He spoke slowly, only stating the facts of the situation.

Someone was hitting on Levi and he intervened, throwing the guy out of the party. He took her up to his room to get her away from the chaos and to make sure she was okay. They were both drunk and they ended up sleeping together. She was gone in the morning when he woke up. He went to go talk to her, she said it was a mistake.

“I actually thought she liked me.” Seungmin ended. He looked like he wanted to cry again.

I patted his shoulder, trying to comfort him. He looked really upset and I couldn’t blame him. I knew he liked her for a while. Some part of me wanted to be mad at Levi for making Seungmin feel like this, but I also knew there was more to the story. I needed to hear both sides.

“Look, you know she cares about you. She might be scared.” I started. “Would it be okay if I talked to her? Get her side of the story?”

Seungmin slightly frowned, but he nodded. “Do what you want. I’m just…so tired.”

I stood up from the bed and started to make my way out of the room. “Get some rest, okay?” And I closed the door behind me.

I brought out my phone and sent a quick text to Levi, asking if I could meet her with the promise of a coffee I had promised her. I was surprised she agreed to meet me.

Fifteen minutes later, I was waiting at a table near the front door. I had already ordered Levi’s favorite and set it on the opposite side of the small table.

The door opened to reveal Levi, who also looked rough. Her eyes were red and puffy. I waved to get her attention, she sat down, and there was silence. She didn’t want to be the first one to speak.

“You looked upset when you left this morning.” I stated, looking her in the eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Did Seungmin send you?” She seemed irritated. “We are barely friends. Why should I tell you what happened?”

“You’re upset, I get it.” Indeed to defuse the situation. “But, two people I care about are upset. I’m not going to force you to talk about it, but I want to help.”

She looked down at the drink, sniffling slightly.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” I leaned in closer so she didn’t have to speak any louder than she had to.

She took a shaky breath and retold the same story Seungmin told. The drinking, sleeping together, their fight. “I know I messed up, and I didn’t want to hurt him at all. He’s my best friend. I’m so afraid he hates me now. And he said he was stupid for thinking I’d like him. I don’t know what to do at all.” She put her head in her hands as tears ran down her cheeks.

I wanted nothing more than to wipe those tears away, but now wasn’t the time. “Seungmin could never hate you, you guys are best friends. He’s just hurt right now. But, that also doesn’t mean he can say hurtful things to you.” I leaned in a little closer. “I can talk to him if you want. But, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t need you to fix my mistakes for me.” She wiped her tears away. “I can fix it myself.”

“No, I understand.” I said. “I’m sorry.”

She laughed bitterly. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything.” She looked at her untouched drink. “I gotta go.” Then, she looked back at me. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Of course.” I gave her a sad smile. “I’m always here if you need anything at all.”

Her lips quirked up in a small smile. Then, she got up and made her way out of the small cafe. It wasn’t long before I left too and made it back home.

I know I said I wouldn’t fix her mistakes, but I just wanted to talk to Seungmin. I walked up the stairs and knocked on his door. I heard shuffling around before he opened the door. He rubbed his eyes, he must’ve been sleeping.

“I talked to Levi.” I said. When he was about to say something, I held my hand up. “You told her that you were stupid to think she’d like you? Seungmin, you might be hurt. But, that doesn’t mean you can say hurtful things. You know, it takes two to tango, and it’s not all her fault you two slept together.” He just looked down at the floor. I put my hand on his shoulder to make him look back at me again. “Is it worth ruining your friendship over?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Why don’t you go talk to her? Patch things up?”

Seungmin nodded his head. “I’ll go tomorrow. It’s getting late.” Then, he hesitated. “How do I know she even wants to see me after that? What if she hates me?”

I gave him a small smile. “She doesn’t hate you. I’m sure she’d be relieved to hear from you.”

He tried to smile back at me, but then he looked back down at the floor. “Do you need a hug?” I asked. When he nodded, I pulled him into a tight hug. He rested his head on my shoulder and put his arms around me.

Levi Mitchell

I woke up the next morning. I felt like complete shit. Seungmin’s words kept ringing through my head.

My hand went to my bedside table and grabbed my phone. It was almost noon. And, I just didn’t want to get out of bed.

Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. I sat up as Zeke opened the door. “Hey, so, Seungmin is currently at the kitchen table. And Luna is about to fight him. You might want to get out there.”

“What?” I quickly jumped out of bed. There would be no fighting in the kitchen. When I got out into the kitchen, Seungmin was calmly sitting at the kitchen table while Zeke was holding Luna back.

“No, I wanna know why he should even be allowed in here!” Luna yelled. “After what he did and said to her? I oughta kill him!”

“There will be no killing anyone.” I rubbed my temple. I already had a headache.

Seungmin sat up slightly at the sound of my voice and Luna backed off a little bit.

“What are you doing here?” I didn’t mean for it to come  out as harsh as it did. I felt bad when Seungmin flinched at the tone of my voice.

He looked down at his wringing hands. “Can we talk?”

“Sure, talk.” Luna scoffed. “What are you going to do? Make her feel bad again?”

“Luna, back off.” I warned. “Zeke, please take Luna to the next room. I need to talk to Seungmin.”

The two reluctantly left the room, leaving Seungmin at the table and me standing several feet away from him. I took a deep breath before sitting across from him at the table. Neither of us wanted to say the first word. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“I’m really sorry.” His voice shook slightly. “It wasn’t fair of me to say what I said. It’s not your fault that you don’t like me like that. I just hoped…” His voice broke off and he swallowed. “I wanted to blame you for what happened, but it’s my fault too. We were drunk and we were stupid. I just hope you can forgive me. Our friendship is way more important to me than you know.”

He looked up at me with concern. I didn’t know why until I touched my face and noticed I’d been crying.

“Oh no, please tell me I didn’t make it worse.” He raised his hand, probably to wipe my tears away. But, he lowered his hand again and put it on the table. He probably didn’t want to cross any boundaries again.

I wiped my tears away and gave him a small smile. “No. You didn’t make it worse.” Then, my smile fell. “I should apologize too. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I probably could have worded it differently. I’m sorry if I ever did anything to lead you on.”

“You didn’t.” He blurted out. “I was just hoping one day you’d like me, no considering that you didn’t want that. I was being selfish.”

“But, I still hurt you. And for that, I’m sorry.” I reached over and squeezed his hand before letting it go. It probably would be weird to touch him like that for a while.

“Can I have a hug.?” He asked. This surprised me because Seungmin didn’t really ask for hugs often. When he did, he really needed them.

“Of course.” I quickly stood up as he did. We met in the middle in a tight hug. I rested my head on his shoulder, rubbing his back with my hand when I felt his shoulders shake.

When we parted, he quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I should probably go.”

“Okay.” I said, but then I added on. “Why don’t we just have an us day? Not today if you don’t want to, but every so often? Have dinner, hang out, watch a movie? Whatever you want.”

He smiled. “Id’ like that.”

~~~~~

It was the next day and I was finishing up my shift at the cafe. As I was clocking out, I saw Chan walk in. He waved to me and I walked up to him. “What’s up?”

“I thought I’d walk you to class.” He said as he smiled down at me.

“Wow, what a charmer.” I joked. “Let me just grab my things.”

Felix and Jeongin gave me a smile and double thumbs up as I grabbed my backpack and made my way back to Chan. I just shrugged them off. As Chan and I walked, he broke the silence.

“So, have you thought any more about designing a tattoo for me?” He asked. “I know it was only a few days ago, but that’s all I can think about.”

After Seungmin and I made up yesterday morning, I admit I thought about the tattoo idea and got sketching. “I might’ve thought of something.”

He suddenly stopped walking. “Can I see?”

“Well, are you sure you want a design of mine on your body forever?” I took out my phone and started to scroll through my pictures.

“I’m sure anything you come up with is amazing.” He was practically bouncing on his heels. “Plus, I’ve already decided. And I usually get what I want.” He winked.

I tried to ignore him as I found the right picture and showed it to him. His eyes brightened up and he stared at the image. “I call it Wolf Chan.”

“I absolutely love it.” He took my phone and started zooming in on the little cartoon wolf. “I’ve decided, I’m gonna schedule an appointment.” He handed my phone back to me.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes. Absolutely.” He then took out his own phone and started googling tattoo parlors. “There’s one not far from here. I can schedule it after classes today.” Then, he gave me the biggest smile.

My face heated up at his bright smile. “Do you want me to come with you to your appointment? First tattoos are sometimes a little scary by yourself.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love that.”

Bang Chan

We scheduled my appointment for the following weekend. The week went by pretty fast. The night before, I didn’t sleep well at all. I was excited, but also anxious. I was glad Levi was coming with me.

I picked her up on my motorcycle in the early afternoon. On our way to the tattoo parlor, all I could think about was her body pressed against my back. As weird as it was, it kinda relaxed my anxiety a bit. Just having her with me always relieved my anxiety.

We made it to the tattoo parlor in no time. I parked the motorcycle and we made it into the shop. After checking in, we waited while the tattoo artist did a stencil of Levi’s little wolf design.

“Nervous?” She asked.

“Yeah, a little.” I didn’t realize I was shaking till she put her hand on mine. “But, you’re here, so I’ll be okay.”

Once the stencil was ready, the guy asked me where I wanted the tattoo. I told him my left pec. I stripped off my shirt, he put the stencil on my chest, asked if I liked the placement, and we were ready to go.

“You realize chest tattoos hurt really bad, right?” Levi stated as I laid down on the padded table, though I could see her eyes flick down towards my exposed chest.

“Yeah, but I wanted it close to my heart.” I told her. “It’s special.”

I swear I could see the color rise in her cheeks, which made me smirk. “Do you need me to hold her hand?”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

Oh, how wrong I was. Within the first minute, I was already clutching onto her hand. She was right, it fucking hurt. She kept me talking to try and keep my mind off the pain. Which worked until it got to the coloring stage. But, after several breaks, it was finally done.

I looked at the final product in the mirror, and I couldn’t be happier. It was perfect.

The tattoo artist put a wrap around the area and sent me off with instructions of aftercare - after I paid, of course.

I put my shirt back on, careful not to touch the fresh tattoo on my chest. When we got outside, it looked like it was about to rain.

“We should probably get you home fast, before we get caught up in the rain.”

She nodded as he put on my extra helmet and got on after me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

When the rain started, it hit hard. I had the stop and we had to find cover. We found a covered bus stop and sat on the benches.

Suddenly, she turned on me. “So, I have a confession to make.”

“What is it?” I turned my body towards her. My mind started racing on what her confession was. Could she confess her feelings for me?

“I actually made mascots for everyone.” She stated. “Wolf Chan was just the beginning.”

I didn’t have to hide my small disappointment. The thought of seeing Levi’s cute little designs actually excited me. “Show me. I have to see.”

Her smile brightened up as she brought out her phone. She started scrolling through pictures of her sketches. They were all adorable. She explained her reasons for each design with a big smile on her face.

She was just so cute, I could listen to her all day. I didn’t notice I had scooted closer to her till she turned her face to me. Her face was so close to mine.

Her voice drifted off into silence when she noticed how close we were. Her eyes flicked down to my mouth for a split second before looking back into my eyes.

She put her phone down on the bench next to her before grabbing onto my hand. Her other hand went to caress my face. Then, she fluttered her eyes closed and started to lean in.

“Wait.” I whispered out before our lips touched. She looked at me with confusion in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

No matter how badly I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to make sure she didn’t regret it. If I was going to kiss her, it would be because she wanted to. And, with the emotions she dealt with just a week ago, I didn’t want to unknowingly sway her into doing something I wanted her to do.

Levi Mitchell

“Are you sure?” He asked me as I was about to kiss him.

Was I sure?

I gave him a look. He looked concerned, but his eyes also flicked down to my lips. He wanted this as much as I did.

So, was I sure?

Yes, I was.

I surged forward and kissed him. His hand instantly squeezed mine as he kissed me back. My hand went to the back of his head and I tangled my fingers into his hair. He placed his other hand on my waist, pulling me closer till we were chest to chest.

He let go of my hand before caressing my face and tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss. I ran my tongue along the seam of his mouth as I tugged on his hair with both hands now, causing him to gasp, letting my tongue in.

He groaned in my mouth as he suddenly lifted me up by the thighs, pinning me against the wall of the bus stop. His hands squeezed at my thighs before one of his hands trailed up to my waist, his fingers trailing under the hem of my shirt.

I thought he would stop there, but then his hand went up further till he gripped my breast over my bra. I let out a gasp as he pulled away from my lips, kissing me down my jaw and neck. I rested my hands on his shoulders to help keep myself up. Without thinking, I rolled my hips against him causing him to groan against my neck as his grip on my thigh tightened.

“Fuck, you don’t know what you do to me.” He mumbled against my throat.

“I think I have an idea.” I smirked as I rolled my hips again, causing him to bite his lip to muffle his groan.

He then looked me in the eyes and I almost gasped at the look he was giving me. His face had more color to it than usual, his eyes half-lidded with blown pupils, his bottom lip between his teeth.

Before I could process what was happening, he lowered me to the bench we were sitting on earlier and got on top of me before kissing me hungrily. He grabbed onto my thighs before lifting them up, slotting his body between them.

Chan then put one of his hands back under my shirt, under my bra, and massaged the mound of flesh, smirking against my lips when his thumb ran over my pierced nipple. I started to moan in his mouth when his clothed crotch rubbed up against my core.

Whether we were technically in public or not, I wanted him. No alcohol blinding my judgment this time. I wanted this.

“Ch-Chan…I-” I was cut off again when he continued to grind into me, picking up his pace. 

He slowed his pace before pulling away. “Do you want me to stop?”

I quickly shook my head. I mumbled under my breath, something about how I never wanted him to stop as I averted my eyes.

He gently grabbed onto my chin and forced my head towards his. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” He smirked. “Now, use your words. What do you want?”

I basically felt like puddy in his hands as warmth spread through my lower belly. “Just, keep going.” I breathed out. “I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me.” The last sentence came out quieter than the first, but I needed him to know what I wanted.

He kissed me hard as his other hand went from my thigh to between my thighs, under my skirt, and rubbed me outside my panties. I moaned in his mouth as he hooked his finger and moved my underwear to the side before brushing his fingers against my folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He quickly inserted a finger into my entrance as he kissed down my jaw and to my neck and collarbone. He sucked and nipped at the flesh before adding another finger. I could feel my thighs shaking as he quickened his pace. His other hand went from under my shirt to my thigh, rubbing soothing circles against it. Then he added a third finger.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered in my ear, moving his fingers at an ungodly pace. When he felt me clench around his fingers, he quickly retracted, making me whine. “I don’t need you cumming just yet. Be a good girl and keep your legs spread for me, okay?”

I nodded as I watched him straighten out before going for his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, and pulling out a condom. Of course he was one of those wallet condom guys. “You seem pretty prepared. I didn’t know you fucked often enough to warrent needing a condom on you at all times.” I rested up on my elbows and gave him a defiant look. But, I let out a small laugh, just to make sure he knew I was joking.

He smirked. “It just means you’re in good hands then.”

My cheeks were definitely the color of a tomato by now. I had not expected him to respond that way.

He let out a small laugh as he unbuckled his belt. “Just lay back and relax. Let me take care of you.”

I reluctantly laid back as he unzipped his jeans, pulling out his cock from his pants. He put the condom wrapper between his teeth and ripped it open. He rolled in on before lowering himself back on top of me and kissing me. It was so sweet, I almost forgot that he was about to fuck me on this bus stop bench.

Then, he slowly pushed himself into me, causing both of us to moan into each other’s mouths. He moved at an agonizingly slow pace as he stretched me out. Eventually, he was fully in, pausing his movements till I fully adjusted to his size.

My hands grabbed onto his biceps and my nails dug into the skin as he started to move. Not as agonizingly slow, and he was slowly picking up his speed.

The bench underneath us started to slightly creak as he picked up his pace, faster and faster. His hands gripped at my thighs and squeezed. He placed open mouthed kisses against my throat and moved so fast, I could hardly keep up. He seemed to notice this and slowed his pace slightly.

We started moving in sync. Our breaths were in sync, our movements, everything. I almost forgot we were on an uncomfortable bench as we reached our climax. He kissed me long and hard as we rode out our highs.

He gave me a few more pecks as he fully pulled out, being careful to not make any unnecessary movements, as I was a little sensitive from my orgasm. He moved my underwear back into place after he got rid of the used condom and readjusted himself back into his pants. 

He sat me up on the bench, and hugged me. It took me a moment to reciprocate, but once I did, it was honestly the best hug I’ve gotten in a long time. As we parted, I looked out and noticed it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Let me get you home.” Chan said as he stepped out from under our shelter.

When we got back to the apartment, he walked me up to the front door.

“Thank you.” He started. “For coming with me today.”

“In more ways than one.” I joked, making him laugh as some color made its way to his cheeks. He didn’t move after a while. “You know, you don’t have to stay cause you feel obligated to.”

He shook his head. “I don’t feel obligated to do anything. I don’t just fuck someone and leave them. That would be shitty.” He stepped closer and grabbed my hand, squeezing it. “Let me do this right. Whether we fuck again or not, I at least want to cuddle and hold you in my arms.”

“Oh, fuck no.” We both heard a muffled voice from the other side of the door before it opened, revealing none other than my little brother. “You aren’t coming inside. No way. I don’t need you fucking while I’m here.”

“Zeke.” I rubbed my temples with my hands. “That’s not what’s going to happen. He’s just going to come inside and-”

“Not on my watch.” Zeke grabbed onto my arm and pulled me in. “Great seeing you and everything, Hot Stuff. But, leave.” Then he slammed the door in Chan’s face.

“Zeke, what the fuck was that?” I kept my voice low and calm. I knew that scared him more than me yelling.

“Nothing.” He kept eye contact with me and started to walk to his room. “But, maybe next time, don’t cockblock me. And I won’t cockblock you.”

Bang Chan

The last thing I wanted when I got home was for everyone to bombard me with questions - ranging from how the tattoo went to asking me if it was a date. I was just tired and needed a nap, to be honest.

“You seem happy.” Minho mentioned. “Something definitely happened.”

I mentally cursed. For all the times for Minho to be observant… “Nothing happened.”

“Now, that’s a lie.” Changbin cut in. “You’re basically glowing.”

“Plus, you were gone for a long time.” Jisung added. “Like, a long time.”

“Tattoos take a while.” I mumbled as I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It started raining on the way back so we hid under a bus stop till the rain stopped.”

“And?” Hyunjin asked. “Please tell me you didn’t just talk.”

My facial expression must’ve given me away. Before I knew it, I was being bombarded with questions about what happened. They wanted details and I just wanted a nap.

“Guys, if he doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t have to.” Seungmin came to my defense. I mentally thanked him.

“Plus, who needs to hear the disgusting details?” Jeongin added in. “You all are gross.”

[underthetree845]

Attack on Titan Characters’ Halloween Costumes (Headcannons)

What I think each of the Attack on Titan characters would dress up as for Halloween.

(Yes I know it’s June but I just had to get this out of my system)

Cws: modern au, college au, Halloween, I don't know what to put here really

Includes: Eren Jeager, Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman, Jean Kirschtein, Sasha Braus, Niccolo, Connie Springer, Historia Reiss, Ymir, Marco Bott

Summary: What would some of the Attack on Titan characters wear if they all attended a Halloween party together in a modern au?

Eren- Solider

I’m seeing camouflage pants, a black compression shirt, combat boots, and maybe even those metal tags that soldiers wear around their neck. Mikasa is absolutely in love with the look, and jots it down in hopes of accidentally matching with him next year. Eren idolized the whole solider thing as a kid.

-

Armin- Milo Thatch from the animated Atlantis movie

If you don’t know who he is, Milo Thatch is a young explorer on a team that discovers The Lost City of Atlantis. He wears a long muted green trench coat, baggy army-colored explorer pants, a beige sweater, round glasses, white knee breeches, low-heeled dress shoes, and he carries around a brown cross body satchel with an old book. I feel like impersonating Milo would be so in-character for Armin, he could pull it off well. And he would look adorable.

-

Mikasa- This is partially influenced by Isayama’s modern au, but I’m just seeing her completely decked out in goth attire.

She would wear rose-patterned lace black leggings and matching gloves, high black boots, a black leather skirt and sleeveless top set, V neck with an abundance of chokers. Rings, probably. We all know her makeup game would be absolutely bomb (and perfect for the dim lighting of the party). If anything, her outfit is comparable to a Misa Amane (from Death Note) cosplay.

-

Jean- A Prince

He wants to have people falling over him so bad, and what better way than to show up as a literal prince for the Halloween party? Goes all out with a navy suit and gold buttons, matching pants, sleek dress shoes, does his hair nice, even carries a pocket watch on a gold chain tucked into his pocket. His mom probably helped him with the outfit. Eren absolutely dies when Jean tries to hit on a girl dressed as a princess at the party and she asks if he’s dressed up as George Washington (the first U.S. President).

-

Sasha/Niccolo- they go for a Ratatouille Remi and Linguini couple costume (Sasha wanted to and Niccolo loved her too much to say no).

You'd think that Niccolo, the actual cook, would the the chef, but no. Sasha wanted to be the chef because then she’d “get to taste test all the food.” Sasha goes out and buys Niccolo a fake rat nose and ears. He wears white loafers, grey sweatpants, a grey long-sleeved shirt, and Sasha paints three little black whiskers on each cheek. Niccolo lets Sasha borrow a chef’s uniform and hat from his restaurant and has to take a few deep breaths because the uniform matches the one he wears while he works and he loves that. Lots of selfies.

-

Connie- Wearing a goblin mask of some sort

This man has two primary goals on Halloween. One: to consume as much candy as humanly possible. Two: to scare the absolute living crap out of as many people as possible. Connie grew up with a few siblings, so his parents probably couldn’t spend a lot of money on each of their Halloween costumes growing up. They were probably given twenty bucks, take to spirit Halloween, and told to have at it. He’s also a relatively simple, straightforward person in general, so I feel like he drops by the convenience store like the day before Halloween and picks out the best goblin mask he can find. Wears dark jeans and a black hoodie so he can wait in the bushes outside the party to catch people by surprise. Armin’s soul almost leaves his body when he falls victim to one of Connie's jump scares.

-

Historia- An angel

I know this isn’t the most creative costume for her, but there was really no other option. Plus Ymir insisted and takes a million pictures once Historia is all done getting ready. She wears fluffy Angel wings, a well-crafted gold headpiece from Etsy to be the halo, and a sleeveless, pure white, almost floor-length dress with gold rings on the shoulders. Her makeup is soft and she seems to glow, even in the darkened lighting. She looks like she was sent from heaven. (Reiner stares so hard and Ymir keeps shoving him away).

-

Ymir- A basketball uniform

Now keep in mind, Ymir doesn’t actually play basketball (although I do feel like she’d be involved in a sports team of some kind). Her top is sleeveless and has a big 00 on the front and back. Ymir probably got it at the Walmart or some convenience store like Connie. Not the type to put too much effort into a Halloween costume unless she gets to do really gory makeup and scare people (which Historia does not allow her to).

-

Marco- A Hogwarts student

He and Armin are such nerds I love it. It’s probably a Hufflepuff robe, he wears the tie and everything. He carries around a wand he got off of some authentic seller. It’s real wood, he and Armin fanboy at the attention to detail since both of them have read the books.

-

The professors aren’t supposed to attend student-organized parties or gatherings, but everyone is fairly certain they saw a displeased-looking Levi chasing Hange wearing an inflatable dinosaur costume in the distance.

Thank you for reading!

[conveniencefloor]

A Quick Summary Of Our Thoughts On Supernatural (2 seasons in)

(I’m rewatching because I never finished it, and he’s never watched it at all)

- Our recurring issue is that SO MANY of these problems could be resolved if the hunters just had a goddamn Organization with different departments! Seriously, think about it. Have a department of Therapy and Recovery for your battered and traumatized hunters, because apart from their well-being it’s a good idea because theoretically you could minimize the likelihood of hunters becoming ghosts themselves. After all, they tend to die brutal and unfair deaths, it’s reasonable that they would want to come back to protect people or finish the job. “Sure, but that’s why hunters get burned at their funerals. No remains, no ghost.” Yeah we THOUGHT. Then S2E16 rolls around and we meet Molly the ghost who, despite her body being cremated, is still out and about, because she has a one sided attachment to something on earth still (her husband). Other benefits of an organization include: A GODDAMN CLEANUP TEAM FOR YOUR GODDAMN INCOMPETENT HUNTERS LEAVING BOOTPRINTS, HANDPRINTS, AND EVIDENCE LITERALLY EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME, YOU STUPID IDIOTS STOP MANHANDLING THE BODIES AND TOUCHING EVERYTHING. Also a fucking makeup department maybe??? I have only seen 9 seasons, and it’s been a long time, but I do not recall a single episode where Sam or Dean changed their hair or wore fake teeth or wigs or aged themselves with makeup for their disguises. “OoOo we’RE wAnTeD bY thE FBI, Let’S jUsT gO inTo eVerY mOteL aNd stOre wE PosSibLy cAn, weAriNg EXACTLY THE SAME FACES WITH ZERO CHANGES” occasionally they wear a different outfit but that’s the extent of keeping their identities secret. Not even a haircut or growing out a beard. You are BEGGING to be caught. You know why else you need an organization? Because you need a goddamn research department. You need a database with TESTED AND CONFIRMED data on these things so you don’t have to keep winging it.

- You guys literally know that there’s some kind of afterlife. You know there’s a hell. You hope there’s a heaven. You know things get out. So why has no one done an iota of research on those places? You have ways to find out. Yet no one cares to. Or maybe someone HAS found out and simply doesn’t feel like communicating. Again, ORGANIZATION.

- Very convenient how all these supernatural beings are in America. I mean you can read the lore of different countries and cultures and learn about their creatures, but if those creatures have been imported you’d think you’d find local lore about something of a different (or same) name describing the same attributes/effects. It’s very weird that your only source for something happening in present day America is an ancient source local to a country halfway across the world. (I think they are aware of that for some things, but certainly not others).

-2 seasons in and the three main characters have already died approximately once each.

-“Sure, most supernatural things are true. But Christianity is the default.” As if you haven’t seen enough gods to consider the Christian god as just another one. As if the word God hasn’t lost authority in all this context you’re wading around in. No reason given for treating it as more legitimate than any other religion or belief, yet still treating it as more legitimate.

-What in the everloving fuck was the Croatoan episode. First, the editors discovered slow motion for the first time and it shows. Second, everything prior would lead you to believe that both Sam and Dean would do whatever they could to try prevent someone from dying. But Dean is prepared to immediately kill someone on the bare minimum of knowledge about the situation? Just some dude? The entire time we were watching it we flabbergasted at the inconsistency of their characters. And the editing. An outlier in our minds for sure.

-although then in S2:E17 they kill Maddie the werewolf right away. Like dude. You already know you can contain her in a wooden room for a night. Contain her in a better room a couple more nights. Then spend the whole month before the next full moon researching a cure. If that doesn’t yield anything, fine, mercy kill, whatever. But we also were aghast at how easily they gave up. Like a couple phone calls?? That’s it??? One more time: ORGANIZATION. Your organization should have an iron/silver/blessed dungeon with safes to keep people like Maddie in so you can actually help them.

-currently confused why the yellow eyed demon wanted a leader for the demon soldiers if all the demons are just going to fuck right off the second they get out.

-also is there a proximity requirement for crossing salt lines? Or could a demon cross it if they just jumped really high? Because I feel like a beach counts as a salt line, and we know demons can go in planes, so what happens when they fly over a beach??

That’s all for now ❤️

(PS: I love Supernatural for the nostalgia and for the utter chaos that trails it. I just also really love complaining about it)

[chronicparagon]

❝How far along are you? When did you find out?❞  (from akira)

Those questions reach Harmony but she doesn't answer him right away. She can barely even think clearly with the whirlwind of thoughts, worries, and fears. Everything happened so fast and now, the minutes drag on as dread weighs heavier on her. She felt strange the past few days but the intense episode of nausea prompted her to seek pregnancy tests at the convenience store closest to her apartment. She brought home three just in case any of them were inaccurate.

She took one test: Positive.

Second test: Positive.

Third test: Positive.

The same result always showed up and her heart dropped into her stomach each time.

The tests lay scattered in her bathroom with the door still wide open. One test lies on the edge of the sink. Two on the floor the makeup that also fell when she panicked.

Another frantic run out of her home brought her to the hospital where she got the news.

Hours passed with none of his texts read or answered. His calls went unanswered until just merely half an hour ago when she texted Akira. She just told him to come over right away, and it was urgent.

This brings them to now with Harmony sitting on the edge of her bed surrounded by used tissues. Her face is still swollen and her eyes are red from the crying. She didn't even bother to put on makeup today. How can she when everything came crashing down?

She lifts her head up to see Akira's face. Finally, she speaks. Her soft voice is hoarse from the screaming and tears, but she speaks for Akira deserves answers after breaking the news to him.

"I found out today. I felt sick...Took a few tests and they...Well, you can see for yourself." She answers with a slight tilt of her head toward the small bathroom some distance away from them. "I saw a doctor to confirm it...The doctor said I'm about nine weeks...That made sense to me since that was around the time we last saw each other. Back in Tokyo, remember?" She could never forget those encounters. They always leave her with her mind lost in bliss and her heart fluttering. But this time, something went wrong, and now, she s carrying a baby. His baby.

Her gaze lowers from Akira, afraid to see anger or disappointment on his face. "I'm sorry...I guess the condom was faulty...I didn't think..." She can't bring herself to continue. There is no sense in focusing on the past. What's done is done and now, she has to give Akira his options.

"Look...I...I know this is a lot, but I...Akira, I really want to keep it. I don't want to get rid of it!" Harmony adds as she shakes her head. "But I..." Harmony pauses to draw in a sharp breath. It's all she can do to stop herself from breaking down, but tears still form in her gray eyes. "I understand if...If you don't want to be in the baby's life. I..." A sob breaks up her words. She knows she must be strong! She must! But...it's so hard. The mere thought of Akira wanting nothing to do with her for this hurts.

Oh, it hurts so much.

But it wouldn't be fair to force him into fatherhood if he never wanted it. She will give him that choice. Harmony takes another breath, a feeble attempt to calm herself.

"Sorry! Sorry...I mean t-to say...I won't force you into this. I...I can...l-let you go." Another pause follows as she can barely bring herself to continue. Hands wring together with a wad of tissue caught in her palms. It's not the first one she used today and it won't be her last. But nevertheless, she presses on.

"I can go back to the US and stay with my relatives there...It will be like...l-like I was never here." Although her family will be unhappy with her condition, Harmony knows they would still support her and the baby. Regardless of what happens, the baby will become part of her tribe. The child would be closer to her relatives who would teach them about Lakota culture. But if she leaves Japan, her studies at her university will be on hold. She knows it will be hard, but she couldn't bear the thought of crossing paths with Akira again if he wants to break up. He deserves to live his life however he wants it to be. Harmony can't take that away from him.

She can't even bear the thought of what Akira's parents would think. They gave him hell for what he was wrongly accused of years ago. What would they do if they find out about this? Akira and Harmony are still in college! They're not even married! She's been in Japan long enough to know that many people here are not keen on that.

It wouldn't be fair for him or for her.

Her hand rises and rests over her heart. It does little to calm the rapid beating in her chest. "I love you, Akira...I want you to live your life however you want it...Even if it means not being with me and this baby...All I can say is...I...I'm sorry."

@scarlxtleaves

[ugh-yoongi]

you suck! | ksj

(or, the one where everything goes very wrong but a lot more goes very right.)

→ pairing: vampire!seokjin x f. reader → genre: supernatural; strangers to lovers; roommates; crack, fluff → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex work, taekook are also chaotic vampires, a lot of twilight references for someone who has never seen or read it, completely made up and non-canonical vampire lore, a teeny-tiny bit of angst, jin’s forehead has powers or something, jin takes dick pics on a polaroid (canon), one very purposely awkward smut scene that includes: slight praise kink, unprotected sex, oral, kissing. overall this is very soft and they are just two idiots very in love, your honor. → wordcount: 18.3k → a/n: i started this almost exactly a year ago after buying this print from @yelhsaart​ and becoming completely obsessed with it. i just wanted to write jin as a goofy, idiot (affectionate) vampire. as i said in the warnings, the vampire lore is completely made up here. some of it is canon, some of it is inspired by the wayhaven chronicles, some of it is just plot device. don’t take it too seriously. → thank yous: lauren, for once again being my beta and telling me when my brain writes sentences that don’t make sense. jess, for being born today — happy birthday, this is my lame and completely self-serving gift to you. bee, for always encouraging my chaos.

You were fifteen the first time you were mistaken for someone else.

It’d been a guy in the grocery store, a bag of lemons in his hand and a confused expression on his face. He’d tapped you on the shoulder, started talking at you like the two of you were well-acquainted before you’d even turned around, and he’d seemed startled when he realized you weren’t who he was expecting you to be.

Sorry, he’d said. You looked just like my daughter from behind.

The second time had been during college: a girl had caught up to you in the quad. Had been calling out a name that certainly wasn’t yours and had grabbed your elbow when you hadn’t responded to it. She’d looked horrified when you weren’t who she’d been looking for, either, and stuttered out an apology as she let you go.

Oh my god, I’m so sorry, you just—you looked just like my friend.

You’d looked like the granddaughter of the elderly man who lived in your mom’s neighborhood. You’d looked like the mother of a kid who’d gotten lost at the mall. Even your friends got mixed up sometimes during nights out—approached strangers they thought were you at the bar, danced with them in nightclubs, drunkenly clung to them at parties.

Your mother had told you once that you just had one of those faces—a top ten anime betrayal coming from her, considering she’d been responsible for half your genetic makeup. Sure, you’re pretty, but it’s always been a common beauty; soft, delicate features where others might have more striking ones. And it’s… fine. Maybe you’d gone through bouts of insecurity every time the world deemed some new feature desirable and you didn’t have it, but you’d always been able to move on.

Except now.

Because now—now you’re wondering if having one of those faces is how you find yourself in this situation.

In a dark alley in between the club and a 24-hour convenience store as a tall, broad-shouldered man with long, very sharp teeth tries—and fails—to sink them into your neck.

He coughs awkwardly, pulls back as he tightens his grip on your waist. Your back is pressed to his chest, so it’s not like you can see his face, but you think if you could there’d be a very perplexed look on it. “Well, this is awkward, huh?”

You blink. “Yeah.”

“Hm. Do… do you think they were pranking me?” he asks, and despite the situation in which you’ve found yourself, you find a sliver of comfort in the overfamiliarity in his tone. As if the two of you are old friends who talk all the time and there’s absolutely nothing weird about this. “Because I’ve gotta say, I’ve done this a lot and this is a first for me.”

There’s no reason whatsoever for the way your belly flips at his statement. He’s a vampire, for fuck’s sake. Of course he’s bitten a lot of people. But it still wounds your ego that you’re just another proverbial notch in this guy’s neckpost. “P-Pranking you? Who would do that?”

The man scoffs and you can feel the vibrations against your skin. “You clearly haven’t met my clan. We got these two new guys, right? And they’re nice, you know? I like them a lot. As much as I can like someone, I guess. But fuck they’re annoying. Really young. Like to fuck around, especially with me since I’m so much older, and I should’ve known this is something they’d do—”

This has to be a dream, you think. There’s no way this is real. You’d stumbled into the alley to find your friend who’d gone for a smoke and never returned, and now you’re here. There’s a vampire at your back, talking your ear off about fuck knows what after having unsuccessfully tried to bite you, and he’s still pawing at your waist with his superhuman strength. And it hurts but you’re too nervous to bring it up, because what if you do and he remembers he’s supposed to be killing you, and that’s it? You’ll be a goner all because you had a brief, fleeting moment of stupidity, like the kid back in high school that always asked the teacher if they were going to collect the homework after they’d forgotten. Everyone hated that kid, and you’ve learned nothing.

You swallow. “I-I don’t think they pr-pranked you,” you stutter out. “I, uh… I just have one of those faces? Maybe you just thought I was someone else?”

“Someone else?” he repeats, and his grip finally loosens. He doesn’t let you go, because this is how you’re destined to die, but his hands move to your shoulders to turn you around.

Because your brain is the ultimate betrayer, your first thought is holy fucking shit. Your second thought questions the word selection in your first thought, because this very beautiful man in front of you is a vampire and would probably hiss and go up in smoke if you said the word ‘holy’ in front of him. And your third thought is, well—it’s not an appropriate thought to be thinking about a man who’d just tried to bite you and drink you dry, to say the least.

“You seem weirdly okay with me being a vampire.”

See, here’s the thing: you’re not going to pretend you know the ins and outs of vampire culture or whatever, but you’ve always known they exist. Not even an open secret or anything. Not a secret at all. That’s just the world you were born into. So, really, there’s no excuse for your reply to be, “It’s fine, I’ve seen Twilight.”

Because here’s the second thing: yes, you’ve always known vampires exist, but they’re still something to be feared. Still an apex predator stalking the shadowed parts of the city once the sun goes down. Long ago, the human world made accommodations for them so the two of you could coexist, but they were put in place for the same reason they started putting seatbelts in cars: no guarantee they’ll save your life, but it’s the best chance you’ve got at staying alive.

“Wow,” the vampire deadpans. “Okay. Let me tell you all the problems I have with that movie—”

You’re shaking like a leaf as you blurt out, “I guess I’m just in shock that I’m still alive so I’m saying stupid stuff,” and it comes out all breathy.

He stops rambling then. Snaps his jaw closed and looks down at you with what you’d call concern if he was human and hadn’t just tried to kill you. “Oh shit,” he says. Then he’s shucking off his thick coat and wrapping it around your shoulders, and if you hadn’t been in a daze before, you sure are now. “Here, take this. Wow, I have no manners. My mother would be so pissed if she heard about this. Please don’t tell her, she’ll stake me.” All you can do is nod; it’s not like you know his mother. Maybe she’s nice.

The coat just… feels like a coat. There’s no residual body heat lingering in the wool, which makes sense, but you’re thankful for the extra layer all the same. You’d told your friends going to a club in early January was stupid, but you’d only been thinking in terms of hypothermia or the common cold or looking like an idiot for being the person who orders a cup of hot tea at the bar. Small picture stuff. Encountering a vampire hadn’t even made your list of concerns, which is probably why the universe chose you to star in this moment out of everyone else on the planet.

(The universe does love a good bit of irony.)

Then, as if you hadn’t already made yourself look like a fool, the vampire’s eyebrows knit together as he says, “Also, whoa, hey, I wasn’t—I wasn’t gonna kill you.” He’s looking at you with such concern that it just makes you feel stupid. A vampire pities you.

Maybe it’s adrenaline or maybe you’ve just had a very, very fucked up night, but your cheeks are burning before you know it and fat, hot tears are rolling down your face. The vampire really looks concerned now, which just makes everything worse. “I’m s-sorry,” you manage to blubber out. “You—you probably d-don’t have to deal with ma-many crying girls, huh.”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Well, no.” He scratches the back of his neck, and it’s the first time since he’d grabbed you earlier that you’re without both of his hands on you. They hadn’t been warm, but you find yourself missing the weight regardless. “I mean, like—sometimes people look like they… want to? I can sense they’re scared of me, but usually I… you know… before they start doing… um, this.”

Great. Not only had you been unkillable, you’re also the first victim to have a mental break in front of him. As if this night couldn’t get any worse. Now you’re upset and embarrassed. “I can’t believe you eat people for a living and I wasn’t even good enough to get murdered,” you wail.

Had you been looking, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic that flickers across the vampire’s face. He looks absolutely frazzled in a way that would’ve made you laugh. Maybe it would've made you feel just the tiniest bit better, because this is uncharted territory for both of you. If you feel lost at encountering your first vampire—whose coat you’re still wrapped in, nonetheless—that anxiety is amplified tenfold for the man in front of you. Imagine his shock when he’d tried to bite you and quickly discovered you had the Fort Knox of necks.

“Hey now,” he says, doing his best to shush you. He already knows he’s in for a reaming for outing himself to a human; the last thing he needs is to be caught by anyone else. “Anyone would be lucky to murder you. You’re totally good enough! Don’t say things like that about yourself.”

It takes a few seconds, but he seems to register his words at the same time you wail harder. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. Oh wow, I’m so bad at this. I just—I meant you’re… you know.” A grimace mars his otherwise beautiful face, a silent prayer for you to somehow just know what he’d meant because there’s no way he’s going to be able to explain it. “Also, hey, what the fuck! Let’s rewind to what you said for a second. I don’t eat people, first of all, and I certainly don’t eat them for a living.”

All you can do is blink up at him. “Oh.”

The vampire scoffs, and you think there’d be a blush creeping up his neck if he was able to do such a thing. “Eat people for a living,” he repeats. “Like I’m some competitive eater. Of people.”

“Okay,” you murmur, and it’s a struggle to even get out such a simple word. “Can, um—if you’re not going to kill me, can I—can I… go?”

“Oh,” the vampire deadpans, looking down at you before his eyes move to his large hands, still gripping your shoulders. “Whoops. Technically I’m not supposed to let you go—job and life insurance, I’m sure you understand—but since you’re not biteable, I don’t see why not.”

A small glimmer of hope parts the proverbial clouds above your head. Sends your adrenaline spiking, and you’re still trembling but the thought of being able to see your cat again dampens it just enough. Truth be told, you’ve always known Xander was a bit of a problem child. Definitely not a cat anyone would willingly take ownership of in the unfortunate event of your premature death. So, yeah—the thought of Xander nibbling on your toes as you sleep in your own bed in your own apartment is a really comforting thought after thinking you were going to be murdered by a vampire in a sketchy alley in the not-great part of the city.

Once the vampire’s grip on you loosens, you shrug out of his coat and hand it over. “Thanks. Let’s do this again sometime, hm?”

You feel yourself blanch. “Um—”

“Geez, I’m joking!” he assures you. Is it weird to find a vampire’s laugh endearing? Because you do, and you question all of your life choices in the span of six seconds. “Wow, you’re really uptight, huh?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t tried to bite me,” you quip, face beginning to flush with anger. He just laughs harder.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to mention,” you continue, a manicured finger jabbing into his chest, “you totally ruined my night. My friends dragged me out to celebrate me, you know? I finally got that promotion at work that should’ve been mine years ago, but my shitty boss gave it to Steve! Fucking Steve. But I finally got it, so my friends were like, ‘Oh my god, let’s go out to celebrate! We’ll buy all your drinks!’ Which—do you know how fucking cheap my friends are? They never pay for drinks! I was drinking on an unlimited tab, and you ruined it, you fucking dickhead! And I’m gonna have to go back to therapy!”

The vampire just looks amused, now. Cocks his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side with a bemused little smirk that drives you crazy in the bad way. “Ah, I should’ve known. You did taste an awful lot like a soulless office worker.”

You scoff. “And how would you know? You couldn’t even bite me.”

His eyes narrow, a sliver of a glare that might be intimidating had you not heard his squeaky laugh. “I did enough to get the idea.” You roll your eyes. “The gist. A waft. A—”

“Aren’t you leaving? Don’t you have some other innocent person to chew on?”

“Chew—wow. And to think I was going to offer to walk you home!”

Involuntarily, your jaw drops. “And what makes you think I would’ve accepted? That’s easily the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“You think I’m the only vampire hanging arou—”

“Lurking,” you interject. “Skulking. Creepily hiding in a bush. Not hanging around.”

The vampire blinks once, twice. Takes a steadying breath and says, “I should’ve eaten you.”

You shrug. “But you can’t, so.” Then your two brain cells connect. “Wait, does that mean all vampires can’t bite me? Am I immune? Is this my superhero origin story?”

“It’s giving me a fucking migraine, is what it is.”

You huff. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Because I don’t know the answer.”

“Oh, you weren’t granted infinite wisdom in your old age?”

“Who are you calling old?” he snaps. “I’m the third-youngest in my clan, I’m not old.”

“Are you older than one hundred?” He nods. “Two hundred?” He nods again. “Then you’re fucking old. That’s, like, more than double my lifespan.”

He rolls his eyes. “How old are you, then?”

“Twenty-seven.” His eyes widen a bit, like he’s prompting you to continue. “What? I’m twenty-seven.”

It’s a weird thing, watching the color drain from a vampire’s face. Not that you’ve ever been an expert, but you had seen both Twilight and Interview with the Vampire so you’d assumed they’d all be pale. Devoid of warmth all over. Cold hands, pallid skin, no heartbeat. So it freaks you out to watch the vampire in front of you go white as a ghost.

“Oh my god,” he moans, panic overtaking his features. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god—”

“You can say that?”

“Holy fucking shit,” he chants instead, eyes darting around the alley like he’s hoping a bush will materialize so he can dry-heave into it. “Oh my god, I cannot believe—oh shit, oh fuck, oh no—”

You click your tongue, heeled boots stomping on the asphalt. “What is your problem? You look like you’re about to croak over and die.”

He turns to you, then, eyes as big as the moon. There’s a grimace on his face you’d only seen that one time you’d tricked your cousin’s kid into sucking on a lemon. “You’re my problem! I almost ate a literal infant!”

“Excuse me—”

“Twenty-seven? Are you joking? Do you want me to go to prison?”

“For trying to murder me? Yeah, it’d be a good fucking start!”

The vampire pulls at his hair, clearly exasperated. “For the last time—I was not going to kill you!”

“Oh, right, you were just going to nibble on me a bit! The human can have a little exsanguination, as a treat.”

“Is that what the kids call a may-may? Because I don’t understand that reference.”

You make a gagging sound. “What the fuck? You mean a meme?”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway—”

“Right. Doesn’t matter. I’m taking an Uber home, anyway. I live too far to walk.”

Awkwardly, the vampire clears his throat. “I should walk you.” As you move to protest, he sends you an apologetic smile. “I’m not the, uh—the only one who’d want to eat you.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really trying to tell me my Uber driver’s gonna be a vampire?”

“It’s not an uncommon side hustle,” he retorts, offense painted across his features.

You pause, head tilted to the side as you try to determine if he’s messing with you. “Are you messing with me?”

“No…?”

“Really?” you deadpan. “You really expect me to believe there are vampires out there moonlighting as Uber drivers?”

He scoffs. “Well, we certainly can’t daylight as them, now can we?”

And that’s the story of how a vampire walks you back to your apartment.

It’s cold and it’s a long walk, takes the better part of an hour and that’s with a few shortcuts sprinkled in. Your companion talks the entire way, never shuts up even for a second, and you wonder if all vampires are as talkative as him or if you’d just run into one who’s kind of annoying but chivalrous and charming, somehow. He lends you his coat again and pops into the convenience store to buy you gloves and a cup of coffee. You jokingly ask if he bought them with money from his part-time rideshare gig and you learn he has a contagious laugh.

You also learn his name is Seokjin.

By the time you reach your door, you also-also learn you’re far more endeared to him than you should be.

“I’m not sure what the protocol is for this,” Seokjin says, scratching at the back of his neck. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he peers down at you, the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I’ve never done the walk of shame back to my own clan.”

You snort. “I can do your makeup and let you borrow a dress and some heels if you want the full experience.”

There’s a riposte on the tip of his tongue that rapidly melts away, his eyes softening as his mouth opens and snaps shut a few times. “Most people wouldn’t say it like that,” he says, voice quiet like he’s telling you a secret.

“Like what?”

“Full experience,” he quotes back to you. “Most of them would probably say human experience.”

“Ah.” You smile, moving to wipe nonexistent dirt from the lapel of his coat. It’s obscene, the way it stretches across his broad shoulders. “Trust me, you don’t want the human experience. It’s all student loan debt and unrealistic beauty standards and oh my god I have to figure out what to cook and eat for dinner literally every single night until I die and doing math to figure out if the nineteen streaming services you’ve signed up for are actually cheaper than just getting cable.”

“Sounds terrible,” he jokes. But you can see it, the sadness that lies dormant in him. Not that it’s much of a shock. Whatever kind of life he lived before this is most likely centuries in the past, long gone but not entirely forgotten.

So it’s purely out of empathy and the depressing look on Seokjin’s face that you say, “Hey, wanna come in and meet Xander?”

He startles, back suddenly ramrod straight. “Xander?”

“My cat. He’s a bit of a hellspawn but you two seem like you’d get along, for obvious reasons.”

“Are you calling me a hellspawn?” he teases, eyebrow quirked.

You shrug. “I’m not-not calling you one.”

There’s his squeaky laugh again. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not sure you know exactly what you’re offering, so I’m going to do the responsible thing and decline.”

“Why, are you on some kind of housecat-only diet or something?”

He laughs again, harder this time, and you find yourself wishing you were funnier just so you can hear it all the time. Laughter looks good on him. “No. A lot of vampire lore is bullshit, but the one about needing to be invited into someone’s home is true.”

“Oh.” You think on it for approximately four seconds. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like you can eat me, right?” Still, Seokjin shrugs, almost looking sheepish. “Okay,” you say, hands raised in defense. “I won’t force you. I’m a big believer in consent and respecting boundaries. But you’re always welcome to come by if you’re feeling lonely. You know where I live now.”

It takes a minute for your words to sink in. Seokjin’s face, which had been flushed from both the cold wind and his incessant laughter, seems to soften at your offer. Then, it’s in a hoarse, croaking voice that he asks, “Why?”

And all you can think to say is, “I don’t know, you just look like you need a friend.”

That should’ve been the end of it.

You never should’ve seen Seokjin again.

The memory of him should’ve been lodged into an unused crevice of your mind—some dusty, cobweb-covered wrinkle that also housed lyrics to one-hit wonders from the ‘90s and the formulas for trigonometric ratios. Sine, cosine, and tangents may have been lost to the recesses of your mind forever, but Seokjin hadn’t.

Which is why you’re shocked when he shows up at your doorstep a mere two weeks after the night he’d tried to bite you.

“Seokjin?” you stupidly ask. Of course it’s him. You’ve made a lot of questionable choices in your life, but meeting and somehow befriending multiple vampires isn’t one.

He looks different, though. His once-dark hair is now a pale shade of pink, longer than it had been the last time you’d seen him, secured loosely to the crown of his head. Stray strands frame his face—a face that you wouldn’t admit to being handsome, even under duress and especially now—and it’s scattered with tiny cuts and dried blood, a purple bruise beneath his right eye, streaks of dirt down his cheeks.

To put it mildly, he looks like shit.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Seokjin’s frazzled. Can’t seem to concentrate on anything. “Can I come in?” he asks, and even his voice sounds rough.

Judging from the last time you’d invited him into your apartment, you know he wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. You know the weight those words carry. “Yeah,” you answer instantly, opening your door wider. “Yeah, of course. Come in.”

You steer him toward the couch, depositing him there as you fetch a blanket and wrap it around those god-forsaken shoulders of his. This is normally the part where you’d offer to make him something—coffee, a cup of tea, something bitter and alcoholic—but you’re not sure what he drinks other than blood. Which is not a thing you have outside of your body.

It all makes you feel really helpless. You barely know Seokjin. Probably shouldn’t have entrusted him with irrevocable access to your apartment. Definitely shouldn’t have done that, in retrospect, but he’d just looked so dejected. What were you supposed to have done? Those sad eyes of his had thrown a lasso over your head and roped you in before you could even think about it.

And now here you are.

Nine-o’clock on a Saturday night. Previously alone in your apartment, because one near-death experience was enough to put you off clubbing for a while. A knock on your door. A mysterious man on the other side. He has sharp teeth. Once tried to use you as a chew toy. Grass is green, water is wet.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask, unsure of what to do with your hands. You’re tactile. Always have been. The hugger of your friend group, so you want to reach out for him, comfort him somehow, but you’re not sure if you should. If he’d want that.

Seokjin heaves a deep sigh, finally looking up at you. Exhaustion is all you can see. “Maybe just some water.”

You nod. You can do water, had even gotten one of those fancy pitchers with a filter as a housewarming gift to yourself. You even manage to change it regularly and on time, a water-based ‘fuck you’ in the face of adulting and everyone who says it’s difficult.

(It is very difficult.)

But hey, you’re managing to save both the environment and downtrodden vampires alike, so you deserve to feel that tiny sliver of pride.

Water acquired, you offer it to Seokjin who accepts it with trembling hands. “Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask, because you can’t really say you’re saving a downtrodden vampire if you don’t even know why he’s slumped against your couch.

“Not really,” he grumbles.

With a sigh, you plop onto the couch next to him, hands once again itching to reach out and comfort him in some way. “Can I touch you?” you ask, and once he nods, you maneuver him so he’s laying on his side with his head in your lap, fingers immediately busying themselves in his blush-colored locks. “Is this okay?” Seokjin nods again.

That’s how the two of you remain until you can feel the tension slowly melt away. Could be minutes, could be hours. You’re not sure. All you know is someone had shown up at your doorstep asking for help and that sometimes it’s nice to run your fingers through someone else’s hair. Gently untangle someone else’s knots. Scratch lightly at someone else’s scalp.

You try not to think much of it beyond that. You don’t think about Seokjin being a vampire. Don’t think about the fact you barely know him. Definitely don’t think about the fact he’d tried to bite you. It all seems a bit inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, species be damned.

Finally, long after you think Seokjin’s fallen asleep, he asks, in a faint voice you’ve only heard from him once, “What do you usually do?”

You hum. Wonder if Seokjin can feel it. “What do you mean? Like, when I’m sad?” He nods, a quiet yeah. “Mm. Depends on why I’m sad, I guess. Usually a long shower and a glass of wine if it’s just a bad day. Trashy reality TV and ice cream if it’s more serious.”

This seems to pique his interest. “What are those?” he asks, sitting up so he can stare at you with wide, curious eyes. The water sloshes in the glass.

“Huh?”

“Those things you said.”

“Trashy reality television and ice cream?” Seokjin nods, more strands of hair falling from the topknot. “You’ve never watched reality TV?”

“Don’t watch TV at all.”

“What.”

He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “I’m busy, okay? I don’t have time for things like that.”

“Aren’t you immortal?” you quip. “You have, like, unlimited time.”

Seokjin levels you with a look—one that clearly says what the hell do you know about being immortal and also time management? You ignore it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a very addictive personality. I can’t get sucked into television. I’ll never stop watching it.”

“That’s fair,” you acknowledge. “You’re so far behind it’d be, like, impossible to catch up, anyway.”

His gaze narrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the first television broadcast aired in 1928. That’s almost a century’s worth of stuff to catch up on.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, but surely not all of it is worth watching,” Seokjin replies, eyebrows disappearing beneath his hair. You confirm his words with a noncommittal hum. “What’s your favorite?”

“Season five of Love Island UK.”

“That’s it? Only one show?”

You scoff. “There’s no only about it. It’s got everything you could ever want in trashy reality television, okay? Especially after Casa Amor—”

“I don’t know what that means.”

You pause. As much as you’d love to go on a tirade about Anna and Jordan—and, really, you’ve been waiting for this, having been limited to barely legible tweets that went ignored since your friends refuse to watch it—Seokjin’s right. He has no idea what any of this means. “Oh. Well, you can start with something easier. You don’t want to peak too early, you know? All TV post-Love Island will just be a letdown.”

“Of course,” Seokjin agrees easily, “we wouldn’t want that.”

“It’d be very tragic,” you tack on. Seokjin just nods.

Although he seems a bit more comfortable, he’s still obviously restless. Crooked fingers have been picking at the pilling of his sweater since he sat down. There’s a small pile of it on the floor, right at his feet, that he’s oblivious to. Not that you’re going to mention it, either, but the last thing you need is for Xander to eat it and hack up some disgusting combination of hairball and sweater fuzz, so when Seokjin isn’t looking you subtly push it under the couch with your foot.

Knowing this is a situation that requires precise delicacy, you clear your throat and angle your body in a way that conveys optimal comfort for the recipient, and say, “Not that I mind sharing my streaming passwords with you, but do you mind if I ask why you’re here?”

Seokjin sucks in a breath that he aborts halfway. Holds it for a few seconds before he exhales heavily, the weight of the world almost visible on his shoulders. As a soulless office worker, as Seokjin had once kindly called you, you’ve seen your fair share of exhaustion—coworkers slumped over at their desks during overtime, those still fighting hangovers on Monday mornings at the coffee machine, the last day in the office before a holiday break—but Seokjin looks… different. It’s a different kind of exhaustion, you think; one bone-deep instead of artificial. Not the kind of exhaustion that can be fixed with a nap or a weekend spent recuperating in bed.

“I… I’m not really sure why I came here,” he begins, tone soft and careful. “Everything happened pretty fast and all I could think of was the last time I was here and you told me I was welcome to come by anytime.” He looks up at you, then, like he’s waiting on confirmation. You nod. “Word travels pretty fast in circles like mine. Mostly for survival. Like, if there’s some kind of threat and we need to leave quickly, we set up ways to inform everyone as quickly as possible a long time ago. But—but things are different now. Faster. Smartphones and the internet and all that.”

“Did… did someone, y’know… see us?”

Seokjin sighs. A fractured, broken thing. “Yeah,” he croaks. “It’s not uncommon. It happens sometimes. I’m not the first one to ever do it—”

“Bite someone with an impenetrable neck?”

You smile when the corners of his lips tug upwards despite himself. “Sure, if you want to put it that way. Like I said, it’s not uncommon, but it’s… a big deal, I guess. Clans are really sensitive to the treaties put in place. Biting a human is a no-no since they established the blood banks, but biting someone, failing, and letting them go?” His words trail off, gaze locked blankly on something in the distance. “That’s unacceptable.”

You swallow, trying not to let the guilt seep in. “So, what’s that mean, then? Unacceptable?”

“It means you’re a liability.” He starts picking at his sweater again. Starts humming a song to himself that you don’t recognize but know will stick in those scarcely-used corners of your mind. A haunting kind of melody; something that pines, something that hurts. “Clans can’t risk a liability.”

“They… kicked you out?” Seokjin nods. “What does that mean?” you ask again.

Not that you know Seokjin very well, or at all, but you’re smart enough to notice patterns. You’ve noticed the way he fidgets when he’s anxious. That he’s more amenable to skinship then, too; doesn’t mind you touching him. You notice the way he blinks differently when he seems unsure of what to say or how to say it, which seems out of character for him in the first place. You’ve noticed the anguish on his face since you opened the door, so you expect more of that when he answers your question.

What you don’t expect is his clenched jaw. The crease between his eyebrows. How he seems to chew on the inside of his cheek before he steels himself and says, “It’s a death sentence.”

Because, as he informs you, a vampire is very unlikely to survive on their own. They need a clan. Need its resources and its protection. Out in the world, alone, there’s no guarantee of survival; of food and safety and camaraderie. A rogue vampire, Seokjin tells you, is a living, breathing target, and everyone knows it.

“When did they kick you out?”

Seokjin shrugs. Picks at the skin around his fingernails. “Not long after I left your place. A few hours at most. Told me as soon as I returned that they’d have to vote on it but not to get my hopes up.”

“Wow. That’s fucked.”

“That’s just how it is. Always been that way.”

You scoff. Scrunch your face up in a way that’s surely ugly but gets your point across. “So? Doesn’t mean it’s not fucked.”

He snorts a laugh and raises his eyebrows, studying you. “Are you gonna be the one to go up against centuries of vampire politics?”

“Who knows what I might do to defend your honor,” you joke. That squeaky laugh of his makes a welcomed reappearance when you throw an exaggerated wink at him.

Much to Seokjin’s relief, step one of Cohabitating With a Vampire is not going up against centuries of vampiric politics. Instead, you follow through on your promise and give him the passwords to all your streaming services.

(“There’s, like, twenty of them. I’ll never remember all this.”

“Then write it down. Didn’t I tell you part of the human experience is doing math to figure out if all this bullshit is cheaper than cable?”

“I don’t have to be human to tell you it’s definitely not.”)

Step two is getting him one of those cheap prepaid cell phone plans from the convenience store. Nothing fancy, because Seokjin has enough problems with technology, just something that allows him to make calls and text you throughout the day when he needs an outlet for all his feelings about Avatar: The Last Airbender. He finishes all three seasons in just over a day, so there are a lot of texts to send.

Things continue like that for a while. Seokjin is surprisingly easy to live with, which might not be saying much. You’d lived with a few people in university that probably skewed your views on what does and does not make a good roommate, but Seokjin is polite and respectful of your space, which is really all you can ask for. Not that he makes much of a mess, but he always cleans up after himself when he does, and he always tells you if he’s going to be out late. He has a key, so it’s just to ease your worries.

Because he doesn’t… talk. About the whole excommunication thing. Hasn’t said another word about it since he broached the topic a few weeks ago. You’re not an idiot, though. You can tell it weighs on him heavily, can tell he seems to second guess leaving your apartment each time he lingers by the door. But then he sighs, pulls his lips into a tight smile, says gotta eat sometime, and off he goes.

Hence why you’d recommended he start with bingeing cartoons.

Which, so far, has worked out well. You respond to Seokjin’s mistyped texts with the appropriate amount of interest and the occasional meme and you don’t push when his thoughts become less joke-y and more introspective. He asks your thoughts about the concept of found family, if you think people (and by people he means Prince Zuko) are capable of redemption or if sometimes someone can truly be too far gone.

Asking for a friend? you ask.

Something like that, Seokjin writes back.

Things are fine. Good, even, despite the fact that Seokjin is still very much a stranger and how abruptly you’d had to adjust to someone else being in your space. Which brings you to—

“How long would you like to stay?”

Seokjin’s head snaps up, eyes wide like you’ve just caught him doing something he shouldn’t. “Oh. I, uh—I haven’t really thought about it.”

You hum in acknowledgment and turn your attention back to the stove. Human food makes Seokjin sick, so you only cook for yourself, but he’s taken to keeping you company in the kitchen each time you make dinner. Asks you about work, about what you’re making and how you make it; asks you where things go as he tidies up behind you.

Now, he stays firmly planted on the other side of the kitchen island, using it as a barrier. “I—I can… go? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“That’s not what I said.” You turn off the burner and reach for a plate. “I would’ve asked when you’re leaving if I was trying to get rid of you.”

“Oh.”

Xander wanders in and wraps himself around your legs. “You have to give me more credit, Seokjin. I’m very assertive. My sister says it’s because I’m an Aries.” You scold Xander when he tries to jump on the counter, claws scraping on the cabinets as he scurries off. “So please believe me when I say if I wanted you out of my space I would just say that. I have no qualms about it. Fuck, he actually fucked up the cabinets, the little shit.”

“Okay. Okay, uh—I guess I’ll—”

You turn to Seokjin, face exasperated. “You literally tried to bite me and low-key murder me. What happened to that guy? You were so cocky.”

“Ugh—”

“Kind of an asshole, too, if I’m being honest. You don’t have to be all timid around me.”

Seokjin barely makes it to the stool at the counter before he’s slumping into it. “Sorry, it’s just—this is weird for me. I’ve never been… alone.”

After you finish plating your dinner, confirming for the billionth time since he moved in that Seokjin does not, in fact, want to risk the stomachache that accompanies human food, you take a seat beside him. A questioning stare asks if it’s okay if you touch him, and he nods minutely, finding the comforting weight of your hand on his bicep seconds later. “I’m not gonna pry, but just—just remember that you’re not alone, okay? I know I can’t relate, but you can talk to me about whatever you want, whenever you want. Xander, too. Sometimes he’s better because he can’t respond, he just has to sit there and take it.”

Sensing he’s being talked about, Xander meows from his spot on the floor. He still seems skeptical of Seokjin sometimes but has otherwise moved onto resigned nonchalance. “Xander’s a pretty weird name, huh?” Seokjin says, leaning down to scratch at his head. “Where’d you come up with that?”

Whatever bubble of friendship you’ve created between you and Seokjin is erased instantly as you awkwardly explain the plot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“How much do you know about human holidays?”

Seokjin barely spares you a glance. Ever since you’d mentioned Buffy, he’s made it a point to binge all seven seasons and tell you, in extreme detail, how inaccurate it is. “Hm?”

You roll your eyes, spitefully deleting the nice sheet set you’d put in your cart for him. “Human holidays. How much do you know?”

“Just the big ones, I guess. The ones bastardized from the Pagans.” You hum thoughtfully. The kind of hum that Seokjin knows means you want something, because it’s one he’s heard a million times already. But the lure of Buffy is strong, especially the musical episode, and he’s still unable to tear his eyes away from the screen when he follows up with, “Why do you ask?”

“Tomorrow’s a holiday. Just wondering if you’d want to celebrate.”

“Depends what it is.”

Suddenly shy, you balk at answering. “Forget it,” you say, re-adding the sheets to your cart along with an overpriced memory foam pillow. Just because Seokjin doesn’t sleep much doesn’t mean he shouldn’t do it in luxury when he does. “It’s silly.”

Catching the hesitation in your tone, Seokjin turns to you with an eyebrow quirked. “Tell me.”

You nearly groan at the way your cheeks warm. “No.”

“Since when are you shy?” he teases, one corner of his mouth catching on a smile. “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not shy,” you argue, despite all momentary evidence to the contrary. “I’ve just decided I don’t want to celebrate a holiday with someone who can’t stop watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer for two seconds to pay attention to me.”

“Ah,” Jin says with a snort of laughter. “You’re not shy and embarrassed, you’re jealous and needy.”

You delete the sheets and pillow again.

When you get into work the next day, there’s a bouquet of flowers waiting for you on your desk and a small box of chocolates.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Guess I know a thing or two.

-SJ

You buy the goddamn sheets, paying extra for same-day delivery.

Having a roommate is strange.

You’ve grown used to having Seokjin in your space. You’ve made room for him, made a room for him, and have finally ironed out all those awkward kinks that come with living with a stranger.

So it feels weird when he’s not around. Wrong, almost.

Which is stupid, you tell yourself. He’s allowed to go out. Now that he’s mostly shaken the nerves from his exile, he’s been doing that more frequently. He’d told you a few weeks ago that he can finally go out and not spend the entire time looking over his shoulder, which is great for him, but you spend every second he’s gone worrying about him.

And now it’s spring, so all you can do is lay in your bed with the windows cracked and wonder if every police siren you hear is because something awful has happened to him. Which is also stupid, because the man has superpowers, for fuck’s sake. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, can do far better of a job than you could ever hope to, so there’s no sense in worrying.

Still.

Your mind is working overtime to convince you of all these horrible things, like Seokjin’s gone to a club and was spotted by someone in his old clan and now there’s no more Seokjin. Just—poof!

At times (like now) you feel like an overbearing helicopter parent, always two seconds away from sending a text demanding to know where he is and who he’s with. Let me know you’re safe in the next thirty seconds OR ELSE. You think that has a nice ring to it. Doesn’t matter that Seokjin’s at least ten times your age, OR ELSE has never been an empty threat from you.

Your thumb hovers above the send button as you hear the lock turn in the front door. You’re up and halfway down the hall in an embarrassingly short amount of time—just enough to watch Seokjin stumble inside and nearly brain himself on the console table.

This is weird and not correct. Seokjin doesn’t stumble. He’s infuriatingly composed at all times, especially when he’s dressed to go out and leaves a bit of forehead showing. Then he’s really composed. Carries himself with an unshakeable arrogance that has you wondering how one’s forehead can wield so much power.

“Jin?” you call out, both to make sure the man in front of you is actually him and, if it is, to give him a heads up and not scare him to death. (Because, as you’ve also learned, Seokjin startles very easily. It’s both endearing and a source of great distress for him.)

Seokjin looks up, catches your eye at the same time he catches himself on the wall. You think he’s trying to take off his shoes. “Oh hey!” he sing-songs, and your stomach drops straight to the floor.

He’s drunk.

Wasted, even.

Which shouldn’t be possible, according to him. Something about his inhuman metabolism that prevents it. “Are you—Kim Seokjin, are you drunk?”

“No,” Seokjin insists, “that’s impossible. I—I can’t be that.”

You eye him warily. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.” Grabbing him gently, you maneuver him to the couch. “Sit. I’m gonna get you some water.”

Five minutes later, he’s properly hydrated and slumped against the arm of the sofa, moaning about how he can’t see and his stomach feels weird. “That’s because you’re drunk,” you reiterate, to which Seokjin replies, eyes narrowed even though he can’t lift his head to properly glare at you, “No, I’m not.”

You click your tongue. “Where’d you go tonight, then?”

“The blood bank.”

“Which one?” you ask, because you may not know all the ins and outs of vampire bylaws and treatises, but you know all blood banks aren’t created equal. Seokjin had explained the hierarchy once. There are the bougie, all organic, free range blood banks not unlike the bougie, all organic, overpriced head of cabbage supermarkets in your world; then there are the dirt cheap blood banks, the ones that capitalize on desperation and skirt the law a bit too much to be harmless.

Judging from the look on Seokjin’s face, he hadn’t gone to the bougie one.

“Jin,” you say, trying to curb the reprimand in your tone. “You know that place isn’t safe.”

He slumps backwards again, dazedly staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “I know that.” He fists his hands in the fabric of his coat. “It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“Okay,” you say, because it’s not like you can say I know or I understand, because you don’t. Seokjin’s world is so far removed from your own, enmeshed only by force and a lack of other options. “I just… I worry about you, you know? I just want you to be safe, and that place isn’t safe.”

Seokjin scoffs. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

You level him with a stare even though his eyes aren’t open to see it. “I’m not talking about physically, you idiot. I mean, I do worry about you physically, but I worry more about you mentally and emotionally. You went through an incredibly traumatizing thing and you don’t talk about it.”

“Did you learn that in therapy?” he deadpans.

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “I did, as a matter of fact, and you can tell it’s working by the way I’m not the emotionally constipated one between us.”

“I’m not constipated.”

You sigh. “Okay, Jinnie. Just… promise me one thing, okay?” He grunts. “Don’t go back to that blood bank. They clearly took a donation from someone they shouldn’t have and now you’re all fucked up.”

“I’m fine,” he argues, just for the sake of arguing.

“You’re really not.”

“Yes I am, and I don’t have any money for the nicer blood banks. I’m all out.”

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine your fingers and squeeze. “Okay. Just tell me next time you need to go and we can figure it out.”

That seems to grab his attention. He snaps his eyes open and looks over at you, taking far too long to look focused. “I’m not taking your money.”

“Jin—”

“No, don’t Jin me. You’re already letting me stay here for free. Did you know that not having a safe place to live is the number one cause of death for rogue vampires? Because it is, and you’ve already spared me from certain death, so I’m not going to ask you for money on top of it just so I can go back to drinking my fancy aged blood.”

“Is there really nothing in between aged, organic B-positive and took a sketchy donation from someone rolling on E?”

“That’s a common misconception. The different blood types don’t really taste all that different.”

You groan. “Not the point. The point—”

“Don’t go to the bad place anymore,” Seokjin mumbles, sounding all too much like a scolded child.

“Correct.”

“Still doesn’t solve my money issue.”

A slow, smug grin overtakes your face. “Give me two days and I’ll have it solved.”

You truly are a genius, even if Seokjin won’t admit it.

See, you had the advantage of not being over two-hundred years old. You’re young and aware of trends, and that came in handy when you had a centuries-old vampire looking for employment in the modern age. Ridesharing had been out of the question, not because Seokjin had cracked that horrible joke eons ago and didn’t want to go back on it, but because he'd forgotten to renew his license. Getting an overnight job—either stocking shelves at the supermarket or working at the convenience store or whatever—had been out of the question, too, due to Seokjin not wanting his beautiful face to go to waste.

“Become a Twitch streamer, then,” you’d said.

Which had been a mistake, because instead of outright refusing and moving on, Seokjin had suckered you into explaining what Twitch was for thirty minutes. Add another thirty minutes of explaining what a streamer was and it’d nearly taken up your entire evening.

“I’ve never played a video game in my entire life,” Seokjin had said, but he hadn’t looked dissuaded.

You’d shrugged. “Some people are into that. It makes for a good shtick.”

Seokjin had paused, then; stared into the distance as if it could tell him all the secrets of the universe. “Do you really think people would watch me be bad at playing video games?”

“Trust me,” you’d replied, taking his face between your hands and squishing his cheeks a little, “humans not only watch way worse things, they pay for them, too.”

And now you’re here, a month and a half later.

You’d stolen (more like permanently borrowed without prior consent, because stolen is such a loaded word) some spare equipment from work. Got Seokjin set up in a corner of his now-bedroom. Ordered those LED light strips all the other streamers have and told him to milk his horrible sense of humor for all it was worth, and boom, his channel had blown up far quicker than you or he had anticipated.

Now he has a steady viewership and a reliable income and his own Discord server. Sure, the start had been a bit rough. Seokjin really had never played video games before, so trying to find something good for streaming was difficult. He didn’t have the coordination for MapleStory, Stardew Valley was too boring, he lost ten subscribers when he tried streaming Pokémon. You’d casually suggested he start streaming horror games. He was endearingly inept and easily startled—seemed like a no-brainer.

Once again, you were right.

So here he is, hogging the small bathroom as he applies his moisturizer, shooing you away each time you ask to take a shower because he has to look good on camera. Which is ridiculous, you think, because he’s actually incapable of looking bad.

“That’s ridiculous,” you huff. “You’re literally incapable of looking bad.”

Seokjin smiles all smug and pleased. “I know. But I’ll be done in a minute. My stream starts soon, anyway.”

With another huff, you stomp down the hall to melt into the couch until he’s done. There’s an episode of Bake-Off paused on the television that you resume, snorting at Seokjin’s squawking protests.

You hear the bathroom lights flick off, Seokjin’s footsteps on the wood floors, Xander tangling himself in his legs and sending him staggering into the wall. “Yah! Watch it, you horrible cretin!”

“Xander did nothing wrong,” you retort. “He’s innocent.”

Seokjin just rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated. “You’d let that cat get away with murder.”

“If it was yours? Absolutely.”

Later on, after you’ve showered and are tucked into bed, a warmth spreads through your chest as you hear Seokjin say to his stream, nothing but affection in his voice, “Can you believe my best friend’s cat tried to murder me today?”

Then there’s a strangled yell as he promptly gets killed in-game.

Hearing Seokjin call you his best friend has damn near catapulted you into a full-blown crisis.

His words have been playing on a loop all week. The warmth never dulls, never lets up; the words best friend always lodge themselves in some hard to reach space in your heart. Because they mean something. Because Seokjin’s not the type to say something just to say it. Because you always try to do right by him and for a long time you’ve wondered if you’re doing enough, if sometimes you try to do the right thing but make things worse and Seokjin’s too nice to say so.

Worse—you’ve been a little terrified that he only sticks around because he feels obligated. Like he has to pay back some invisible, unspoken debt.

It’s not like that. Maybe it’s cliche to say he’s more important than whatever it costs to house him here, but it’s true. Simply being able to lay in bed, cool breeze streaming in from a cracked window, and hear Seokjin’s squeaky laughter and muffled voice as he talks to his stream—it’s priceless. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

So, yeah—Seokjin calling you his best friend strikes you someplace deep.

You’re not sure what time it is when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Seokjin takes up almost all of the frame. Sometimes he has to duck when his hair is done and coiffed, and maybe it’s silly but it makes you feel safe.

“Hi,” you say, leaning over to flick on the lamp. At once the room is bathed in amber, shadows long and prominent in all the darkest parts, and it’s not until Seokjin’s silence registers that you look over at him.

He’s crying.

Two things happen before you even have a chance to breathe: you get tangled in the duvet and eat shit trying to scramble out of bed, and your hands are pressed to Seokjin’s cheeks, thumbing away the tears beneath his eyes. He heaves a sob and pulls you closer. Wraps those gangly arms around your shoulders and cries quietly into your neck.

It all makes you feel a bit hopeless, but you know Seokjin feels safe. You know you’re a safe place for him.

So you let him cry. Don’t ask what’s wrong, because you already know, have been waiting for it to hit out of the blue and all at once. There are only so many distractions. Even fewer that can bear the weight of a trauma like Seokjin’s.

Eventually the sobs turn to hiccups and quiet sniffles. His tone is watery as he apologizes for ruining your sleep shirt. You tell him it’s okay, and this time you don’t ask if you can press a kiss to his forehead, you just guide his head down so you can reach. His body sags in response.

“Do you wanna sleep in here?” you ask. There’s a large part of you that wants him to say yes, and a small one that refuses to consider what that means.

Seokjin says yes, regardless.

You tuck him into the empty side of the bed. Grab a glass of water from the kitchen and some aspirin, even if it won’t do anything, because Seokjin did a lot of crying and you know how that feels. He’s still awake when you return, just staring at the ceiling, so you sit on the edge of the bed next to him and just run your fingers through his hair. It’s blond now, and it suits him.

“Do you,” he starts to say, but his throat is dry and wrecked, voice hoarse.

“Sit up,” you instruct. Bring the glass to his lips. “Drink this.”

He clicks his tongue. “Bossy,” he jokes, but does as you say anyway. “Do you remember the night we met? I told you I was the third-youngest in my clan. We’d taken in two new guys.” You nod. Seokjin swallows hard. “They… they found my stream. Reached out.”

Your hand pauses in his hair. “Oh. What did they say?”

“They apologized.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “They—they said they’re the reason I got kicked out. That they’d fucked up the person at the club—“

“Me,” you conclude.

Seokjin nods. “Yeah, you. It was supposed to be someone else. We—it’s not, uh. Uncommon.”

It takes a second for the dots to connect. Then they do, and you choke on a laugh. “Like. As a kink?”

“Yeah. People pay a lot of money for it, and it’s not, like, illegal to bite someone consensually, so long as there’s proper documentation. And I’m really, really handsome, right, so people would pay a lot more money to get bitten by me, specifically.”

You snort. “So someone at the club that night had paid a lot of money to be bitten by you, the world’s most handsome vampire, and the two new guys in your clan… what, mistook me for someone else?”

“Apparently.”

“Then you tried to bite me, I was not biteable, and then you got kicked out of your clan?”

“That’s the long and short of it, yeah.”

You hum. “What happened to the woman who paid?”

“Taehyung bit her instead. He’s nowhere near as handsome as me, but he’s fine in a pinch.”

“Is he—“

“One of the new guys? Yeah. Jungkook is the other one. He’s the one who found me on Twitch.”

“I see.” You find his hand and press another kiss to the back of it. Interlock your fingers. “Are you okay?”

He sighs. Goes very quiet and very still before saying, in a voice so meek and unlike him, “They asked me to come back. Said they could probably pull some strings and get the clan to take me back.”

The thought of Seokjin leaving nearly steals the breath from your lungs. Has your stomach twisting in knots, limbs jittery with anxiety, and it’s all you can do to choke out a tiny little oh.

You’ve grown so used to having him in your space, in your life. The thought of no longer hearing his ridiculous laugh from across the hall, still audible even with your noise-canceling headphones on? The thought of cooking dinner alone again. The thought of no longer coming home from work to find Seokjin napping on the couch, Xander curled up on his chest. It’s all unfathomable. Has your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and you know Seokjin can hear it, know you’ll probably have to examine all these feelings soon, but—

“I said no.”

“What?”

“I said no,” he repeats. “I… I told them I’m happy here. That I’ve learned how to adjust and that I’m doing well.”

“Seokjin,” you say, voice hardened around the edges because it’s easier to pretend to be mad at him than it is to cry in relief. “Seokjin, why would you do that? They can give you so much more—“

“No,” he says, tone so firm and sure there’s no room to dispute it, “they can’t.”

Why can’t they? you want to ask. What can I possibly give you? But that’s… dumb. They’re questions you already know the answer to, especially when Seokjin’s looking at you like this: like you’re the only thing in his entire universe that matters. Like he’d trust you to lead him into war; trust you to keep him safe.

That’s what all of this is truly about, isn’t it? Trust.

Seokjin trusts you. Seokjin has allowed something solid and impenetrable to be formed between you, has helped create it. Now it’s time to trust him in turn—trust that he’s happy, safe, wants to stay here.

(Stay with you.)

So you don’t push it again. Don’t give voice to all your insecurities. You’d told Seokjin once that if you wanted him gone you’d ask him to leave. It’s the same for him.

“Do you want to see them?”

Seokjin hums. “I—maybe? It would be nice to see a familiar face, I guess.”

You can’t believe you’re about to ask this, but: “Would you… want to invite them over for dinner?” Seokjin gags. “Oh, shit, right—no dinner. Um. Would you like to invite them over to meet Xander and play video games and not eat human food?” you try again.

“Jungkookie eats human food. He’s a vile little creature.”

“Okay. What about Taehyung?”

“He’s like me.”

“Okay. Invite them.”

Seokjin sits up a little. Scrunches his eyebrows together as he stares up at you. “Are you sure?”

“Are they gonna try to eat me?”

“Doesn’t matter if they do,” Seokjin dismisses, “your neck is infamous now.”

Your jaw drops. “What does that mean.”

“It means you’re a bona fide local celebrity, darling. The only person in this city immune to a friendly chomp. After my unfortunate excommunication, you were the talk of the vampire world for weeks. The two chaos demons will probably ask for your autograph.”

Eyes narrow, you study Seokjin’s face. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.”

“I would never.”

“That’s a lie.”

Seokjin just grins.

By the time you finally meet Taehyung and Jungkook, Seokjin’s bedroom isn’t used for much more than streaming.

It happened gradually. A knock on your door frame once he was done with his stream, just to ask if you were awake. Sometimes you weren’t. Sometimes you were, and he’d make you a cup of tea and sit in the empty space on your bed and tell you all about the game he’d played and his viewers and all their funny comments and how many new subscribers he got. That turned into him crashing there, because Seokjin loved to talk and talked endlessly, and sometimes you’d look at the clock and it’d be nearing two a.m. and you’d have to hush him and tell him to go to sleep.

The mornings following would always be hell, but you’d always plop down at your work desk with a goofy smile on your face.

Sleeping alone had started feeling weird after that. It’d been one hell of an adjustment period, getting used to someone else in your bed, but Seokjin’s presence was calming—his weight at your back, far more hesitant to reach out and touch than you are, but sometimes you’d wake up to his fingers in your hair, gently detangling.

Then it was making room for socks and underwear next to yours. His products next to yours in your shower instead of the guest bathroom. His nice shirts hung up next to yours in the closet. His phone charger on the nightstand, plugged into the outlet behind the bed. Now it’s making both sides of the bed in the morning instead of just yours. It’s making sure your alarm is quiet so Seokjin’s able to sleep through it, even with his ridiculous hearing. It’s—

“Oh, what the fuck,” Taehyung says, jaw comically slack. “No wonder hyung doesn’t wanna leave—Jungkook-ah, come look at this! They’re practically fucking married.”

Jungkook seems to materialize beside him, his wide eyes growing even wider as he stifles a laugh. “This is peak marital bedroom.”

Seokjin’s next to you in the hallway, unable to sputter a response. If he could blush, you’re sure it’d go all the way to his toes. “Yah! We’re not—what do you two even know—c’mon, that’s-that’s not even—absurd.”

“It’s not even absurd?” Taehyung and Jungkook think this is riotously funny. “Well,” Taehyung concludes, turning to you, “at least hyung chose well. Imagine if he tried to bite someone who lived in a shithole. Totally wouldn’t have been worth the excommunication.”

Exasperated, Seokjin looks to you for guidance. You just shrug. “He has a point.”

Seokjin’s sputtering again, deflating in the face of betrayal. He throws his hands in the air and dramatically announces, “Aish! Tour’s over, you insolent brats!”

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Jungkook says, making his way down the hall, “we’ll do the self-guided one.”

“Good thing we didn’t pay for this,” Taehyung tacks on. “Two out of ten stars,” he continues, voice growing distant the further they go into Seokjin’s bedroom. “Great location, but the tour guide was a giant pissbaby. Totally unreceptive to comments about his marriage.” You think the last bit comes from the closet.

With a heavy sigh, Seokjin trails after them. Probably to make sure they don’t touch his streaming stuff, considering you’d permanently borrowed it without prior consent. Your boss still hasn’t noticed, so that’s a win, but it’s pretty nice. Not the kind of low-quality garbage you’d be able to afford replacing out of pocket if it all took an unfortunate tumble to the floor.

There’s some muffled yelling—probably also from the closet—before Jungkook pops into the hallway, scratching the back of his neck and looking sheepish. “Hyung sent me out here to help you cook.” He gnaws at his bottom lip. “I-I don’t, uh—cook often? I don’t cook often. So I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.” He looks down. “If that’s okay?”

God help you, you’re now endeared by two vampires. What an embarrassing lack of survival instinct. “Of course it’s okay.” You gesture for him to follow. “Does anyone in your clan cook?”

You hand over an apron. By the way Jungkook stares at it, you conclude the answer to your question is very obviously no. “Never mind,” you say. “Jin says you eat human food? Do you enjoy it?”

Jungkook nods, hair flopping wildly. “Yeah! I eat everything.” Instant horror. “I mean—! Not everything-everything—I don’t eat people! Or a-animals! Wait, I do eat animals, but not live ones! Not, like, housepets. Just the meat and stuff from the store—I’m not gonna eat your cat!”

Xander just blinks up at him. There’s that embarrassing lack of survival instinct again.

You laugh. Squeeze his shoulder. “Jungkook, relax, it’s okay. I didn’t think that at all.”

“Okay,” he says, but he doesn’t look convinced. He just looks sad, like he’s on the verge of tears. “I just—I feel bad for hyung. I’m trying to make a good impression so you’ll like us and invite us over again and we’ll get to see him all the time.” Then, in a small voice, he adds, “Like before.”

You wonder if he can hear the way your heart plummets to the ground. “Oh, you sweet thing.” Unlike Seokjin, you don’t ask Jungkook if you can hug him. You just do it, because he starts sniffling before you can even finish your sentence. “You and Taehyung are always welcome here, okay?” Jungkook nods into the crook of your neck. “As long as you don’t, like, break anything. Seokjin isn’t bringing in that much money yet.”

This gets a laugh out of him. A sweet sound; airy and carefree, even though he’s carrying so much guilt. “Hyung seems really happy here.”

An unbidden smile. “I hope he is.”

“Are you happy he’s here, too?”

Jungkook’s clearly looking for something in your expression when he pulls back. He’s already heard the way your heart rate spiked at his question, so you’re not sure what it is, but it’s easy to say, “Yes, I am,” because it’s the truth.

“Okay. That helps, I think.”

“Good. Now, what are your thoughts on carbonara?”

  Jungkook is a good sous chef.

He’s a quick learner, efficient at chopping things, and doesn’t mind doing the dishes because he “wants the experience.” After cooking alongside Seokjin for so long, it was second nature to hand out little jobs to do. Easy to make light conversation. Even though he’s a century older than you, Jungkook seems so young. Hasn’t lost that sense of childlike wonder. Still has all those stars in his eyes.

So you hand over a pair of gloves and let him do the dishes. You’re halfway down the hall when the sound of the faucet fades and gives way to hushed conversation.

“—it’s alright, Taehyung-ah, I’m not scolding you, it’s just—it’s touchy, okay? Even if that’s something she’d want, you know it’s different for us. You know the laws.”

“I know, hyung. I’m sorry. It was a stupid joke and I just got carried away.”

You should say something, you think. They probably know you’re here, just skulking in the dark, eavesdropping, their superhuman senses be damned.

Christ, you probably smell like pancetta.

“…Do you, though?”

Seokjin sighs. You’d know that sigh anywhere, considering how many times you’d heard it during his Buffy binge. “Yeah. I think I do, Taehyung-ah.”

“Are you gonna tell her?”

“How do you imagine that playing out? We haven’t even had The Talk yet.”

Someone gasps. “Oh, shit. You haven’t? Really? That’s a pretty important conversation to just skip over.”

“Yah, don’t give me that look! It’s complicated!”

“Okay, hyung, I’m sure it is. I just want you to be happy, you know? And, like, you’re clearly happy here, but maybe you could be even happier. I know there’s laws and rites and customs, but who gives a shit?”

Seokjin lets out a strangled yelp. “Yah! Are you actually trying to get me killed? First you get me excommunicated, now you want me to say ‘fuck ten millennia of vampiric customs’ for—“

“Don’t say ‘bullshit,’ hyung, because it’s not. Not if that’s what you want. Not if it’d make you happy.”

Another sigh. “When did you get so smart, huh?”

That night is the first time it’s awkward sleeping next to Seokjin.

Suddenly the drawer with the socks and underwear seems too big. The clothes aren’t hanging right in the closet. Seokjin’s phone keeps vibrating and skittering along the nightstand and the sound is grating. The breeze from the open window doesn’t feel nice, just makes your skin tacky from the humidity.

Or maybe it’s Seokjin that’s throwing everything off. Has barely said a full sentence since saying goodbye to the kids. Excused himself immediately to take a shower and stayed in there forever; that’s what it’d felt like, at least.

The long and short of it is this: you’d overheard a conversation you shouldn’t have. You know things Seokjin probably isn’t ready to say. Not to you, not right now. If you combine your two brain cells, the logical conclusion is that Seokjin quite possibly has very real feelings for you and might be in the midst of a crisis, and that’s a problem because—

The Talk.

Something you’ve managed to push to the back of your mind, even though your twenty-eighth birthday is coming up. You’ll age, grow older. Seokjin grows older, too, but not like you. No guarantees, but no expiration date, either. And that’s—tough. Really fucking scary to think about: you, with the lines in your skin showing your age, so many decades in the future; Seokjin, still looking the same.

How is that supposed to work?

Seokjin will stay by your side and watch you grow old until eventually there’s no more growing to do. He will stay by your side and maybe hold your hand as you depart this life and maybe set off for another. One where you won’t know him and his squeaky laugh and his warm comfort; one where he’s left behind.

It can’t be worth it. Despite what Taehyung had said, nothing can be worth that kind of grief. Because Seokjin is so good—he’s kind and fierce; wildly chaotic and unwaveringly stable. He deserves to be loved endlessly and eternally, and how will you ever be able to do that if you’ll always have time breathing down your neck?

“I can hear you thinking.”

You sigh. Squeeze your eyes shut because you can feel them start to water. There’s guilt and there’s injustice and there’s anger, because you want to be the person he chooses to be loved by. “I…” You take a deep breath. Hold it a few seconds. Compose yourself. “I overheard you talking to Taehyung.”

Seokjin swallows. “I figured.”

“I—I don’t know what any of it means,” you say, “but I think… I think maybe there are some things we should talk about.”

“Right, okay. The Talk.” He sounds resigned. “I’ve never had to have The Talk before. I probably won’t be very good at it.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself when you say, “How hard could it possibly be?”

Very, it turns out.

The two of you talk in circles until you’re nearly crying in frustration, because Seokjin just doesn’t hear you. Refuses to accept that loving you and eventually having to say goodbye is worse than the alternative. Refuses to accept that you’ll grow old and get wrinkles and look your age and he’ll always look beautiful, look like this, and how that might be okay now, when you’re still young, but what will it look like when you’re seventy and he still looks twenty-five? How will he still be able to look at you and see you as someone beautiful, desirable? What will the rest of the world see when they look at the two of you like that?

“You’re not listening to me,” you sob. Everything feels so overwhelming. So out of reach. “Seokjin, how could you—why would you ever want me? Why would you want something so impossible?”

Seokjin scoffs, wounded. “Impossible to who? To you? Because it’s not impossible to me.” Anger sounds so wrong on him. Makes your stomach twist. “In all that thinking you’ve done, did you stop to consider the alternative? That I keep going through this world alone, scared to get too close to anyone because I’ll always have to watch them die?”

“What does that mean?” You’re nearly shouting. Anger doesn’t sound good on you, either. Not when it’s directed at him. “Why would you be alone? You could be with someone like you.”

“Someone like me, huh? Who’s that? A freak? Some other cursed bastard who doesn’t want to be like this but can barely survive on their own?” He’s sobbing now, too, voice hoarse as he fists the duvet just to have something to hold onto. An anchor. “Who am I besides a fucking monster?”

You’re on him immediately, moving frantically to gather him in your arms. Seokjin only stops sobbing to dry-heave; only moves to give you enough space to thumb away the tears on his cheeks. He cries until he’s got nothing left besides tremors. He cries until you’re rocking him in your lap, your heart broken for this beautiful, kind man. He cries until his lips give way to apologies instead.

“Shh, you have nothing to apologize for.” You kiss his hair. It smells like blackberries. “You are so many things, Kim Seokjin, and not one of them is bad.”

He hiccups. “I just want to be normal.”

“You are. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“How can you say that?” he whispers. “I’m broken.”

You hum. Run your fingers softly up and down his arms, leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?”

“If it’s not ‘someone incredibly handsome’ I don’t want to hear it. My heart won’t be able to take that kind of pain right now, I’m too vulnerable.”

“Someone incredibly handsome was actually first on my list, so you’re in luck.” Seokjin snorts. “But I also see the strongest person I’ve ever met. Someone determined and stubborn. Someone who could’ve killed me to stay out of trouble but let me go, because it was the right thing to do. Someone who has experienced hardships I could never imagine but still remains soft and compassionate. Someone who has reached into my chest and grown roots there, because now that I’ve had you here, I don’t think I could ever possibly think about letting you go.”

You sigh. Feel your throat grow tight all over again. “And that’s—that’s what scares me, because how can I ask you to stay when we both know how it ends? It’ll be the rest of my life, but what will it be for you? Will it feel like a minute, an hour, a year? That’s what I meant, when I said someone like you—someone who doesn’t have to say goodbye.”

When he looks at you, Seokjin’s gaze is impossibly soft. He looks at you like you’re a little stupid, too, which he does a lot. “I already am someone who doesn’t have to say goodbye.”

He finds your hand, rubs his thumb over individual knuckles. “There are… ways. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, because we can always try and find it doesn’t work, just like anyone else would, so I don’t think I’m ready to have that specific conversation yet, but I just want you to know that. That there are options.”

Something dangerously close to hope blooms in your chest.

It’s easy, once you’re over that hurdle.

Once that particular elephant in the room has been addressed and shelved.

You’re not naive enough to think there aren’t many difficult discussions in your future, but you find it hard to care when Seokjin doesn’t shy away from you, can barely tear himself away from your side even for a second. He’s there to kiss you awake in the morning when you’re on the verge of running late for work. He’s there when you walk through the door after a hard day, another kiss pressed to your forehead. He’s there next to you in bed as soon as he finishes a stream, skin soft from the shower, and that feeling of security he brings with him warms you even when he can’t.

Seokjin insists on doing things properly. Like a real couple, he just barely stops himself from saying, and you don’t mention it and he doesn’t, either, but you’re proud of him for catching it, for stomping down that line of thinking. Because the two of you are a real couple. You do the cliche dinner-and-a-movie dates, even though Seokjin spends the entire time making fun of the characters. You go for walks along the river. Sometimes all he wants to do is spend hours walking around the city. Even though the sunlight gives him a headache, you still hold his hand and walk for as long as he wants to.

It’s easy.

Also easy is how he touches you, the feel of his lips on your skin. Fluid, like all the time he spent before knowing you was just practice. Fragile, the way he holds you like a delicate thing; like the entire world is in his hands, and he doesn’t have to be careful but it’s worth it to be so.

So much changes between the two of you, but there’s even more that doesn’t. Seokjin is still Seokjin. Still laughs too loud and carries around the weight of the world, but at night you can still hear him talk to his stream, tell them all about you. You can hear the way he shrieks with glee when he finally tells them you’re his girlfriend, that it’s official even though that word feels juvenile, and you smile to yourself in the dark.

It’s so, so easy to fall in love with him when you were already halfway there.

Much like he always is, Seokjin is honest first. Just presses himself to your back one night as you’re cooking dinner and whispers in your ear that he loves you. In your shock, the pan nearly goes clattering to the floor. Xander hisses, does the Scooby-Doo run out of the kitchen to escape the chaos, and Seokjin just laughs.

You’re scowling when you tell him you love him, too. He kisses it away.

“What’s this thing?”

You sigh, drop the bundle of hangers in your hand. Cleaning out your closet had sounded like a great and logical idea in theory. Seokjin was quickly outgrowing his allotted side, you hadn’t touched the back of it since you’d moved in so god only knew what was growing back there, and there wasn’t much else to do on a stormy Sunday afternoon.

The closet, however, had very quickly gotten the best of you.

Now you’re knee-deep in clothes you haven’t worn in years, hairline and and armpits sweaty, and so close to snapping that the line between you and a murder charge is paper thin. And poor Seokjin—he’s just trying to help, but he’s more curious than he is genuinely helpful. Keeps stopping every two minutes to inspect something and ask what it is, figure out how it works. First was the fart machine you’d gotten as a gag gift six Christmases ago. (Seokjin loved this, said he’d send it to Taehyung and Jungkook.) Then it was the box of butterfly hair clips your mother had saved and dumped on you as soon as you’d gotten your own place. (He loved them, too; claimed ownership of them and said he’d wear them during one of his streams.)

You look over to see what he’s holding this time and barely have enough time to grit out the words DO NOT PRESS THAT BUTTON before Seokjin presses the button and you’re temporarily blinded by a flash.

“Oh shit,” comes his brilliant response. Then, “What the fuck. Did it just spit something out at me?”

You try to blink the stars away. “It’s a Polaroid camera.”

“What’s that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” you answer tartly. Then you sigh, because it isn’t Seokjin’s fault that he is who he is and you feel guilty. “It’s basically an instant camera. The film is self-developing so you can take and print a picture just about immediately.”

Seokjin makes a little humming noise. “Where’d you get it?”

“My sister gave it to me.”

“An invention like this and she just gave it away?”

You snort. Walk over and gently take the camera from his hands. “Yeah, older siblings tend to do that,” you answer. Point the view finder at him until he’s centered in the frame. “They love to offload all their worthless junk onto you in the name of being charitable. Smile.”

Unfair, really, how effortlessly beautiful he is. It’s all you can do to look away from the picture once it’s developed, and Seokjin’s smiling in it, sure, but it pales in comparison to the smile that sits on his face once the photo of you becomes clear.

  Seokjin becomes obsessed with the camera.

Manages to use up all the old film without even leaving the apartment. He takes photos of you, of himself, of you and him together, of Xander, the plant in the kitchen that probably doesn’t get watered enough, his computer screen once he hits a subscriber milestone, the view of the city from the living room windows during another storm. He leaves them around the apartment for you to find—a little game of hide and seek that only the two of you are in on.

And they don’t sell that old film anymore, so he uses his own money to buy a new Instax. Then he finds an old camera shop way off the beaten path and spends even more money there, but while he’s out he loads up on film and spends hours taking pictures in the city. Comes home and dumps them out of his pockets like he’d looted a bank, and you try to keep a straight face, you really do, but he’s so goddamn endearing that you can’t help the fond smile. They’re all dated and labeled, little messages drawn in limited space.

This tiny dog took a massive shit at the park and the owner didn’t even clean it up!

Doesn’t this cloud look like that ugly green guy from that movie you made me watch? Shark

Pretty flower! Reminded me of you ♡

This cat hissed at me! Reminded me of Xander ♡

Maybe we can go to this cafe this weekend if the weather’s nice?

Then, one from a trip he must’ve taken to the beach, because there isn’t enough contrast to see the waves, but written clearly in the sand—

I LOVE YOU!!! Sand is itchy!

That one’s your favorite.

  Thing about Seokjin is—nothing stays innocent for very long.

He’s simultaneously adorably naive and the smartest person in any room he walks into. There’s this little act he does: says something blissfully ignorant, almost too ignorant to be true, and waits to see how long it takes you to realize he’s fucking with you. He loves it; it’s his favorite game. Always ends up with him laughing so hard he cries, that squawking laugh of his booming loud, and you know better but fall for it every time like a sucker.

So, really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise when he hands over a stack of Instax photos, does that mischievous little smile he does where he rolls his lips to keep from laughing. Just for a moment, all you look at is a set of wide shoulders disappearing through the door of his streaming room, then the shut door. Then, when you look down—

“Kim Seokjin!”

His maniacal laughter rings throughout the apartment.

Because Seokjin has just handed you a stack of dick pictures, and this is not an idea Seokjin would’ve had on his own. Taehyung or Jungkook or both are probably behind this, you think. Taehyung had stopped by not long ago, took one look at the Instax, and wiggled his eyebrows at you, so you should’ve known. Should’ve known that a trio of vampires that took money from people to bite them would be the types to take unsolicited pictures of their dicks.

(“I don’t do that!” Jungkook insists later on, cheeks flaming red.

Taehyung snorts. “You did that one time.”

“I did not—”

“You did,” Taehyung insists. “Remember? It was that one college girl who lied and totally suckered you by saying she was an anthropology major and was comparing dick sizes between humans and vampires and needed a picture of your dick for science.”

“That’s different,” Jungkook argues. “It’s not weird if it’s for science.”

Taehyung hums, seemingly buying into this argument. Then he takes another bite of the pop-tart he’d insisted on trying before he makes a face and spits it onto the table.)

As it turns out, handing your roommate-turned-immortal life partner a stack of dick Polaroids prompts a lot of discussions about sex.

You’re not an idiot. Of course you’d searched how vampires get erections without a blood supply, but the results had been less than helpful. They just do, is as much as you got. Imagine your surprise, then, when the dick in Seokjin’s pictures was very erect and very ready to go.

“How does this work?” you ask him.

Seokjin looks startled. “Uh… what do you mean?”

“This,” you say, pointing to the picture. God, you hate that it’s a good one. You’re not supposed to appreciate unsolicited dick pictures. “The dick.”

“Um. I—you see, when two people love each other very much—”

You squawk. “Not sex! I know how sex works!”

“Well how am I supposed to know that?” he squawks back, matching your volume with very little effort. “You just pointed at my dick and asked how it worked!”

Eyes narrowing, you retort, “I know how dicks work too, thank you very much, I mean how does yours work?”

“...The same as everyone else’s? Babe, I really don’t get what you’re asking me here.”

You huff. Shake your head a little to try and clear the brain fog. “What I mean is: most people with dicks are able to get erections because the blood goes down there. You don’t have blood, so where does the boner come from?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, shrugs his shoulders and looks at you like you’re kind of crazy. “It just happens. Appears like a mirage in the desert. Usually after I think about sex or boobs—”

You roll your eyes, falling back onto your bed with a huff. Seokjin’s on you in a second. Stares down at you with some dopey, loved-up look on his face, all traces of exasperation gone. The weight is a familiar comfort by now, an anchor, and no matter what, every single time: “Hey,” Seokjin whispers, mouth so close to your skin you can feel the words, “guess what?” You hum an acknowledgement, dip your hands beneath another oversized t-shirt to trace along his own skin, warmed only by your own.

You know what he’s going to say, but—“What?”—you play along anyway.

“I love you.”

“I know,” you tease. Seokjin huffs, something else you feel in the hollow of your neck, before he presses another kiss to your skin.

“Are you gonna say it back?”

You will, because you always do. Just one of those things that had been instinctual the first time: a brief realization, oh, I love him too, and then the words had come spilling out. No hesitation and no second-guessing, just a whispered truth and twin smiles once you got past the anger of your dinner almost tumbling to the floor. “I might.”

A groan, then all of Seokjin’s body weight collapses on top of you. “You’re insufferable,” he laments, a playful whine high in his throat, “it’s kind of killing my boner.”

“Wow. And they say romance is dead.”

“Well, technically I’m dead, too, so that makes sense.”

Seokjin can’t see you roll your eyes, but you do. Are you stalling? Undoubtedly. Are you stalling because your chest gets tight and you kind of forget how to breathe every time Seokjin tells you he loves you, or are you stalling because his boner is still very prominent and the two of you had decided to take it slow? Definitely both.

And it isn’t like you mind. One of the many upsides to being with Seokjin is that time is the one thing you’ll never want for. There will always be time, so you don’t mind sparing a bit of it until you’re both on the same page. Bless him, Seokjin had nearly looked green the first time he’d broached the topic: stuttered his way through an explanation on how it’d been decades since his last partner, his last real one because the ‘biting people for extra money’ stuff didn’t really count—that the last time he’d been with a human was back when he still was one, too, so he’s a little nervous, would you mind waiting, he just needs to do some… research, is all. Just so he doesn’t embarrass himself, he’d said, and you’d just nodded along and pressed your lips to his forehead and said of course, whatever you want, it’s all okay with me.

So you’re trying to be respectful.

You are being respectful, but it’s a little hard to think straight when his boner is pressed against your pelvis.

Still, you groan. “Can you not remind me that you’re an undead immortal being while your erect penis is touching me?”

Because he loves nothing more than antagonizing, Seokjin just presses harder against you. “Why?” he teases, shit-eating grin on his face. “Is it weird?”

You roll your eyes. “A little, yeah.”

“We could make it even more weird.” He waggles his eyebrows at this.

Usually you’d brush off a quip like that: just Seokjin being Seokjin, another way for him to tease you. But this, too, isn’t so easy to ignore when he’s hard and on top of you, gazing down at you the way he is, all heat and bad ideas. Like he’d happily devour you whole if you said the word, and the word is biting at the back of your teeth, right on the tip of your tongue. You want to. You want, have wanted for a long time, but—

“Seokjin,” you manage to choke out. A real feat, considering he’s rocking slow against you. So slow you probably wouldn’t notice if you weren’t hyper-aware of every single thing, every shift in movement. “You wanted to wait, remember?”

He just hums. Presses his lips back to your neck, easily finds that spot that drives you wild. “I’ve been studying,” he says. Has his voice always been that deep? No, you think, this is just horny delirium. A hormone-induced mirage, tempting you to the edge.

“Okay.” You try really hard to sound put-together. “I’m not really sure what that means.”

Seokjin huffs a laugh and you feel that, too. “It means I’ve been watching a lot of porn and jerking off for weeks while you’re at work, and most of the time I’m so fucking horny I can barely keep my dick in my pants.”

All of that sounds… really nice, although the thought of Seokjin touching himself, head thrown back in pleasure, that neck on full display, toes curled, does very little to help your self-control. Still, you manage to curb it, pulling back just enough to catch his gaze. “Are you ready, though? I don’t mind waiting. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

He pecks your nose. “I don’t. I’m ready, I trust you, we’ve already talked about all the important stuff, and if I jerk off one more time I think my dick is going to protest and fall off.”

When you look at him, there’s not a trace of hesitation to be found. It’s a little maddening how he can go from looking at you with such fervor right back to something like spun sugar. That’s how he’s looking at you now: with trust, with love, with excitement. And it’s ironic, you think, that he’s the hiemal one between you, because he always manages to fill you with warmth.

Just like the sun. You reflect everything he feels for you, all the devotion, and return it tenfold.

So there’s no hesitation in you, either, when you smile and say okay.

Much like he is any other time, Seokjin is an absolute hellion in bed.

You’ve been teased within an inch of your life, hands and tongue everywhere except where you need them most, and he’s completely impervious to your suffering. The corners of his mouth quirk upward before he resets them, relishing in your begging but not letting you catch on, and then he’s dragging you to the edge once more, pushing your hips back down to the bed with a hushed I know, baby, I know.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, almost mocking. “You’ve been so good for me,” he murmurs, and you try to pretend the praise doesn’t set you alight. It had taken a while to find his rhythm, but it must be like riding a bike, you think. Seokjin probably could’ve gone an entire millennia without doing this and it’d still be just as good. It pisses you off a little. “Are you ready?” You nod as best you can. “You have to use your words,” he goads, “I can’t read your mind.”

Maybe he can’t, but your answer is obvious enough: the way you’re writhing, the rapid beating of your heart, the heat between your thighs. If it feels this overwhelming to you, there’s no way Seokjin’s unaware. And you know he isn’t—know he’s only doing it to get a reaction, to drag it out further, so you just huff. Disengage. Seokjin can’t win if you don’t play, and maybe you reflect his sunlight, but you can reflect his chaos, too.

“Babe.” He laughs. Works a hand over his cock once, twice when he realizes you’re looking. “Don’t start getting petty now, of all times.”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, then,” you fire back. “You know I’m ready. Been ready for hours.”

He huffs. “It’s only been twenty minutes.”

You narrow your eyes. “Hours,” you repeat.

“Sheesh, okay, okay.” Just as he’s about to press inside, he pauses. Looks at you with that loved-up look again. Normally it’d be endearing, butter soft, but you’ve been at his mercy for far too long and it’d started taking its toll somewhere around minute two, so. “Hey, you know I—”

“Seokjin, I swear to fucking god—”

He huffs again, nothing but exasperation, and finally gives you what you want. The initial stretch takes your breath away, giving way to full full full, the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel, but then it’s—

“Jesus Christ!”

There’s just screeching. From you and Seokjin, because while you’re trying to scamper up the bed, he’s pulling out and wearing a full-on grimace. You can’t even lie, that hurts. You’ve had a lot of awkward one night stands, but no one has ever grimaced before.

“Hot!” Seokjin wails, grabbing at his crotch. “Holy fuck, hot! Hot! My fucking dick is on fire—”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull. “Hot?! Are you fucking joking? It feels like you just impaled me with an icicle!”

It does. There’s still a phantom pain in your cunt that feels a lot like frostbite. Like when someone sticks their cold hands up the back of your shirt.

Seokjin ignores you, though. Just puffs out his cheeks and blows room-temperature air towards his cock, and you’d maybe laugh if this was any other time in any other situation. Having this happen the first time the two of you have had sex is… mortifying. A little worrying for the future, too, because you’ve tried those warming lubes and they’re terrible. It’s also just—disappointing. You’d been looking forward to this for a long time, being close to Seokjin in this way, and of all the times you’d envisioned it, you didn’t imagine your body heat would be too scorching for his penis, of all things.

Shit.

You’re not going to cry.

Not over this.

Not while Seokjin is still hopping around the bedroom on one leg, still desperately puffing out air. Not while he’s chastising his cock in the process. Something that sounds suspiciously like c’mon buddy, it’s just a little body heat, don’t do this, you don’t have to do this, fuck, c’mon. Another thing you might laugh at another time, but you can’t. Not now. Not while Seokjin finally sighs in defeat and meets your eye and looks equally devastated.

Devastation looks worse on him than it feels on you, so you joke, “Maybe we should’ve started with oral?”

A beat of silence. Then the disappointment cracks and he’s sending you a blinding smile. “Something something Icarus, too close to the sun, et cetera.” He flops unceremoniously on the bed and drapes half his body over you. “Seems pretty obvious in retrospect, huh?”

Your fingers are immediately in his hair. “Yeah.” Lips find the top of his head. “We’ll figure it out.”

(And you do. Condoms are the first experiment, even though they were essentially useless before, considering Seokjin’s dead and all, unable to reproduce or harbor any kind of infection. Problem with that is—

“Why are they all so fucking thin?” Seokjin whines, staring down at another box with CLOSEST THING TO WEARING NOTHING! across the front.

You snort, tossing back another box of the same. “Because most men don’t want to wear a condom and will gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss their way into going raw.”

So you try a different approach and order the super thick ones meant to help with premature ejaculation. Those are okay, but almost too effective. Sex with Seokjin is great, it turns out, but not when it seems to go on endlessly and everything starts to hurt and chafe and Seokjin’s trying, babe, you think I wouldn’t have come by now if I could, but, well. The condoms work as advertised, is the thing.

Back to Old Reliable, then: oral sex. Even having your mouth around his dick nearly sends him launching off the bed, but the two of you figure it out. Small kitten licks until he starts to acclimate, an inch or two at a time once the whole dick is in your mouth, and slow, slow, slow. Truthfully, it’s a long and tedious process, and it all but kills the idea of wild, spontaneous fucking, but the actual sex part, when you finally figure it out, is so goddamn good you figure you can go without.)

“Does your family know about me?”

Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t asked sooner considering your birthday is just around the corner. You aren’t doing much to celebrate, considering it’s in the middle of the week, but it hadn’t stopped your mother and sister from offering to take you to lunch on the weekend. Seokjin hadn’t said much when you told him about it, complaining for the nth time about the seafood restaurant your mom’s insisting on just because it’s her favorite, but you can see now why this might’ve been on his mind.

“Yeah, of course they do.”

Also unsurprisingly, he seems shocked to hear this. “What?”

“Why wouldn’t they know about you?”

“Um. Because I’m… y’know. A vampire.”

You roll your lips, suppressing a laugh. “Are you calling my family racist?”

“No! I am definitely not saying that!” he sputters, suddenly finding the new rug very interesting. Xander had barfed all over the last one in a way that was completely unsalvageable. “I just—I was just wondering? Since it’s your birthday soon, and you’re going to lunch with them, and I didn’t know, like, if they knew about me? Like, I’m sure they know you have a roommate, but do I have to pretend to not be your boyfriend if they come over? Like, if we’re just roommates, should I come out screaming about losing all my socks in the dryer or leaving dishes in the sink or something—”

“Is that what you think roommates fight about?”

This puts an abrupt end to his spiral. “Er, yeah? That’s what they fight about on TV.”

“Okay, remind me to change the Netflix password. Now, will you come here?” You stand from your spot on the couch and engulf him in a hug. “They know about you. All of it, so you don’t need to worry about it, all right?” You pull back. “Unless you’re worried about something else?”

“No,” he answers, voice small.

“Okay. My sister dated an absolute demon in college, so you being a vampire is nothing in comparison, trust me.”

“Demons aren’t real.”

“They are, and my sister has somehow dated all of them. My mom actually contacted the church about an exorcism.” This gets a laugh out of him. “Now, do you want to come to lunch with someone who consorts with demons and someone who puts any modicum of trust in the Catholic church, or is that a hard pass for you?”

He nuzzles further into your neck. “Are they nice?”

“They’re okay.”

“Are they like you?”

“I’m definitely the hotter sister, despite whatever my sister may think, and I have to text my mother every month to remind her to pay her car insurance because she forgot and let it expire twice and got tickets both times, so I’m not sure what that says about her, but they did raise me, so. I don’t know, I guess so?”

“Then they’re probably nice and I think I’d probably like to meet them.”

Your heart feels warm again.

On the morning of your birthday lunch, you wake up alone.

This is uncommon but not outright strange, so you think nothing of it. If you had Seokjin’s ultrasonic hearing, you would’ve heard the three vampires giggling in the kitchen, trying desperately to hush one another every ten seconds because they’re incapable of shutting up, but you don’t, so you trudge into the en suite to pee and brush your teeth, ignore the mess of hair on your head, and then trudge into the kitchen.

“Surprise!” Jungkook screams, popping out from behind the island. Taehyung’s at the sink, clearly trying to hide the remains of some science project gone wrong, and Seokjin’s slumped against the counter with his head in his hands.

Still, there’s a half-assed birthday cake being presented to you, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! written in Seokjin’s recognizable scrawl, and a smile rapidly forming. “You made this yourselves?” you ask, more to make conversation than genuine curiosity. No bakery on earth would sell something that looks like the cake in front of you.

“Of course we did,” Taehyung says, snark loaded and ready, “what do you take us for, amateurs?”

Jungkook ignores him. “Seokjin-hyung says you turned twenty-eight and that’s a big deal so we wanted to do something nice!”

“Well, that’s a straight up lie,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes. “We wanted to get you a cake but we have no idea how to order things at human bakeries and the lady behind the counter was mean as fuck so hyung looked up how to make one from scratch.”

“It was awful,” Seokjin moans, agony muted by the countertop. “Don’t ever ask me to bake something again.”

“No one asked you to do anything,” Jungkook snaps. “This was your idea! You were the one who texted us and said, and I quote, ‘My idiotic little dongsaengs, I want to do something special for her because I’m in love, so I’m going to look up how to bake a cake from scratch and the two of you are going to help me, and if you say no I will hack into the blood bank database and change your blood preference to O-negative,’ to which Taehyung replied, and I quote, ‘Don’t you dare sign me up for that basic bitch blood, hyung, that’s just cruel,’ to which I replied, and I quote, ‘Hyung only just learned how to use a smartphone, there’s no way,’ to which you replied, and I quote, ‘Here is the recipe, be at my apartment by six a.m. or else.’”

“Wow, his memory is freakishly good and kind of weird,” Taehyung marvels. Jungkook preens.

“Well,” you begin, going around the kitchen to give each of them a tight hug, “I’ve never gotten a homemade cake before, so I am very appreciative and a little overwhelmed.”

When you reach Seokjin, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you. You’re the best and I love you.”

“Gross,” Taehyung and Jungkook say in unison.

Hours later, long after you’ve tried to figure out how to tackle the cake and how long it could conceivably stay fresh for compared to how much of it you could conceivably eat, and long after Jungkook offers to ‘demolish it right now’ and you make a Matilda reference and have to explain the entire plot to him just to explain who Bruce is, there’s a knock at your door that can only be your mom and sister.

You’re not dressed. You’re not even showered.

There are three chaotic vampires in your kitchen arguing over what to do with the cake.

This is not how you wanted Seokjin’s first time meeting your family to go.

But it works out all the same, just as it always does. The introductions are awkward only because of the state of the kitchen, but between Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, your mom and sister are charmed long before you pass your phone around to order food, because there’s no way any of you are going out now.

Another thing that’s easy. Another moment in which you find yourself thankful that Seokjin has nothing but time, because you think you’d be very happy to spend most of yours like this: surrounded by the people you love, ears ringing from laughter. Another memory in a span of months that’s jam-packed with new ones. Another slice of cake gone when your sister bravely volunteers to try one. Another sly look at her from Taehyung, because he’s been doing it all afternoon and doesn’t realize he’s not subtle.

Another round of hugs. Another birthday gone. Another mess to clean up once it’s just you and Seokjin left in the apartment, Jungkook halfway out the door when he calls out over his shoulder, “Taehyungie-hyung says he’s gonna bite the wrong person too and get kicked out of the clan so he can hook up with your sister,” just because he’s a shithead. Another punch to his shoulder.

Another time you look at Seokjin and think, I’m so fucking in love with him, I’d follow him anywhere.

Another author’s note: I wanted to leave the ending a little open-ended. I’m sure people have thoughts on turning, and it wasn’t something that I wanted to write into this fic but wanted to broach the topic of because that’s, like, The Thing about vampire/human relationships. My headcanon is that this reader does, just because I want them to live happily ever after forever, but I didn’t want to force that on everyone and dampen the reading experience.

As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

[contemplativepancakes]

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

-

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

[spaceskam]

woke me up from the longest dream

Summary: Alex and Michael follow up on a lead and find something powerful.

Tags: canon compliant (for the most part), visions, road trips, my deep sky still sucks agenda

ao3

"Why is it so fucking cold?" 

"Welcome to Montana," Alex said dryly.

Michael made a face and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was doing his best to be mature about Alex inviting him on this trip. It was another loose lead he found and he was irritated that he didn't find it until after he came back home. Michael had offered to help after a grueling time in self-induced misery and Alex had agreed and he had planned to use this time to show Alex how much he'd grown.

However, there was something about being alone with Alex that made him feel a little like he hadn’t. 

"Are you not cold?"

"Didn't we deduce that your species is from a really cold planet due to your body temperature and the clothing Tripp described they were wearing?" Alex asked back.

Michael was used to a vaguely snarky Alex, it was in his genetic makeup. This was a different level though. Alex was in one of the worst moods Michael had ever seen him in that didn't result in a fight, instead it was all icy silence and irritated answers. Michael wasn't sure if it was because of his breakup with Forrest or if it was something else entirely. Maybe it was the fact that Michael was here at all.

He decided to keep quiet.

"You got me," Michael said, taking slightly bigger strides to keep up with Alex.

They were in a small town that served as a hub for a few even smaller towns that surrounded it. It had one small stretch of road with all the local businesses in it, a shabby hotel, a diner, and a farmer's market being the three biggest options. There were a couple others buildings, but Michael couldn't say what they were by just looking at them from the outside.

Alex seemed to know where he was headed though and he waltzed up to a building that was only identifiable by a sign that was meant to say CORRIE'S but was missing a few letters and said CORE instead. He pushed the door open and Michael followed. The inside had the heater blasting in a way that immediately smothered him, but he managed to keep his face even. It looked like a convenience store with only three rows of shelves in the middle. A sign at the back door read GAS PUMP IN BACK. Michael thought that was bad advertising.

"Hello," an older woman at the counter greeted. She seemed to be the only one here.

"Hey," Alex said, approaching her and turning on an easy smile. Logically Michael just knew he was being charming to get what he came here for. Illogically, it felt like Alex could be nice to everyone but him.

How many times could he tell himself to grow up? 

"What can I help you two with?" she asked. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this place is owned by someone who used to live in Fort Belknap?" Alex said, not even beating around the bush to charm her more. That was the only thing to convince him it wasn't just him. 

The woman stared at him, face unchanging. 

"Who's asking?" 

"Holt," Alex said, smiling and tilting his head a little bit, "Carla Holt, to be more specific."

She breathed in and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them a few moments later. 

"Their timing has always been impeccable," she said, gesturing towards a door behind her, "Come."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael whispered to him as they followed. Alex grabbed his arm and squeezed, nearly causing Michael to fully trip over air. 

"Just follow my lead. Stay quiet," Alex explained quietly, "I'll tell you later."

And Michael did as he said. 

"You must be the littlest Manes boy," the woman said as she led them into a little office. It was cluttered and didn't really seem like the top secret place Michael was imagining. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Corrie," she corrected, "I never did like the sound of ma'am."

"Alright," Alex said, laughing lightly even though didn't reach his eyes, "My mother told me the same thing." 

"I bet so," Corrie said, digging through messy drawers of a desk. She sat down heavily into the beat up chair and started digging through a file cabinet. "I kept telling myself it'll eventually come and bite me in the ass, carrying secrets for someone I only hear from once every few years, but you never know what you're getting yourself into until after you're stuck."

"Yeah, I know how that feels," Alex sighed. Michael's eyes drifted to him. He avoided eye contact completely.

"I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting you. Your brother, maybe. Part of me expected your father to bust down my door more than anyone," she went on. Corrie pulled out a small box and opened it, looking in and making a face before closing it and tossing it over her shoulder. 

"Guess I'm the sucker who agreed to clean up duty."

Corrie laughed.

Truly, Michael expected more danger and more difficulty. He expected a fight or at least tension. Instead, Alex and Corrie made small talk about their shitty affiliations while Corrie dug through decades worth of clutter. Eventually, she pulled out a box and opened it and took a deep breath. She closed it again before giving it to Alex and Alex didn't reopen it so Michael had no idea what was in it. All he knew was that it went into Alex's bag.

"Thank you "

"Keep it safe," Corrie said, "Keep yourself safe." Then for the first time her eyes drifted to Michael. "You too. There aren't many of you left."

It was hot in the building, but somehow Michael felt like he'd jumped in ice water.

"Thank you."

"Mhm. Now get the hell out of my store before somebody follows you."

"Of course. Thank you again," Alex said politely and then he did as she said, turning on his heel and walking away. Michael wanted to stay and ask more–if she knew what he was, maybe she knew things he didn't and they could get rid of Mr. Jones–but Michael simply followed Alex's lead.

"Alex," Michael said, nearly having to jog to keep up. Alex opened the door of the store and a blast of cold hit Michael in the face, colder than before due to the extreme warmth inside. It took him a moment to reboot his mind enough to finish what he was saying. "Alex, what's in the box?"

Alex managed to close his eyes and shake his head in disapproval without slowing his pace. 

"Can you wait until we get to the hotel?" Alex asked, cold again. Michael nodded despite the fact Alex couldn't see him, deciding that a verbal answer probably would be annoying in itself. 

The problem with silence was that it was a sure way to get Michael to spiral. He had discovered very recently that being alone when he wanted to be alone the most was the worst idea. Now, he didn't want to be alone as much as he wanted answers. Walking in silence down a street while wondering what was in Alex's bag, who Carla Holt was, why Alex was angry, etc, etc, etc, was only making his mind race.

By the time they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, Michael was sure that Alex had just borrowed a bomb from an old lady and he was going to explode himself and whoever Carla Holt was was going to hunt Michael down in revenge. He of course didn't say that. Instead, he tapped his foot as Alex requested a room with two queens and didn't realized that the worker snorted because he was assuming they were two queens until after they were already heading to the room. 

"Should I go spit in his drink?" Michael asked when he realized. 

"No," Alex said, "You'd probably make it taste too sweet."

Michael again found himself stumbling over nothing and he looked at Alex, wondering what the hell was he talking about. But it was the nicest thing he'd said to him the whole trip and Michael decided to take it very personally. 

"You sayin' I'm sweet?" Michael asked, grinning. A smile pulled at Alex's mouth that he very quickly schooled, slowing as he came to their room. 

"I'm saying your saliva, and probably your other bodily fluids, have a higher concentration of a glucose-like chemical," Alex said, "As proved by Kyle and Liz when we got drunk."

"You guys drunkenly tested our saliva's glucose levels?" Michael asked, laughing a little. Alex finally speaking to him made his brain stop wandering as much. Not completely–he was still wondering about that box–but enough.

"We were talking," Alex said, unlocking the door with the keycard, "And noticed we all thought you three tasted sweeter than other people we'd kissed and, well, you know. So we did some tests."

"That's... Interesting," Michael said, letting the door close behind them.

Alex walked over to the bed closest to the door and carefully sat his bag down. Michael watched him, staying near the door. He was still unsure about where they stood. He knew Alex cared about him and he knew Alex didn't hate him, but he was also still holding him at arm's length. And then there was that box. He didn't want to push.

But Michael wasn't known for his patience. 

"Alex," Michael said, "What's in that box?"

Alex swallowed and looked up at him for a moment before patting the bed beside him. An invitation. One that made Michael's stomach drop and twist in 11 knots. But he walked closer, sitting beside Alex. Alex stared at him, his features slowly loosening up to betray his feelings. His eyebrows pulled together in that kind of worry that meant he felt like he was drowning, scrambling to pull himself to the surface and never able to get a good grip. Which would explain the coldness, he supposed.

"You know you can trust me, right? I'm... I'm working on not being so self-destructive, and, like, knowing I'm helping you out kinda helps when I feel shitty," Michael said. Alex huffed a small laugh and shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment. When he looked Michael in the eye again, he was back to being serious. 

"I did something stupid," Alex said, softly like it was a secret, "I agreed to something without knowing what I was getting myself into. And I'm kind of stuck right now."

"Stuck? What do you mean stuck?" Michael said, following his lead and whispering.

"I'm figuring it out, alright? Don't worry. I'll tell you later," Alex said, reaching out to squeeze his arm before dropping it back to the bed, "And I checked before we even left that I wasn't bugged and I've kept my eye out to know that we aren't being followed. And my computer definitely isn't. We're good. They're tracking me, but only to the extent I'm letting them. It's okay." 

"That doesn't sound okay," Michael said.

"Trust me like I trust you, alright?" He said. Michael reluctantly nodded. "I need you to hold something for me."

Michael blinked. "The box."

"Yeah."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael asked. Alex smiled softly

"It's not a who, it's a what. It's a code from my mom's side of things. She knows more about the alien shit than she let on," Alex sighed, "I didn't stand a fucking chance not being involved with this shit. My dad, my mom, you. So, you know, if you ever feel bad about that, it's my fucking destiny." 

Michael swallowed and nodded, feeling more eager by the second to know what was in that box. Needed to keep hearing Alex say how fated they were to know each other. Needed Alex to touch his arm again and smile.

"Okay," Michael said, trying to stay in his own space, "So we're fated. Cosmic connection. Called it."

Alex broke into a wide smile, genuine and welcoming as he shoved Michael's shoulder gently. "Shut up."

"Show me," Michael said instead. Alex's smile faded just a little.

"Do me a favor and double check our surroundings," Alex said. Michael nodded and tilted his head, sending a chair to lodge itself under the doorknob and pressed the curtains tightly to the wall. His eyes slid closed as he did a mental sweep of the building, not noticing anything out of order. When he opened his eyes again, Alex seemed to be closer. "Thanks." 

"Show me." 

Alex sighed and nodded, hesitantly reaching into his bag and pulling out the box. It was clear now that it was made of really nice wood, intricate carvings covering it. Alex handled it with an extreme care that Corrie didn't have with it. His eyes flickered between the box and Michael a few dozen times before he hesitantly opened it and Michael leaned closer to see.

"It's just a ring," Michael said, almost disappointed. It looked like a normal, silver band that was old and unpolished after years of being tucked away. 

"Not just a ring," Alex said, he kept his fingers very precise as he picked it up. Michael didn't miss the way it seemed to ripple at his touch.

"Something alien," Michael acknowledged.

"Something alien," Alex confirmed, "Most of the glass and even the rocks that you've had so far all seem to be crafted and at least heavily altered by your people to be as useful as they are. This... This was passed down as a pure substance that was mined and cut into a wedding band to mimic human customs." Alex looked at him. "It pre-dates your mother landing here, Michael."

Michael let out a shaky breath, eager and hungry for knowledge for the first time in a long time. He'd poured over Tripp's journal over and over, poured over Caulfield and Project Shepard records, all of it painful and sickening with an unhappy ending. And now there was something new– old –that might actually give him something more. Proof that aliens were here before his mother, proof that there was a reason they came to Earth of all places. More secrets he craved to uncover. He missed the feeling. 

"It's powerful and, as far as I can tell, the last of it left. The rest was probably destroyed with your planet. But it's old and... and sentimental. One of the older women on the reservation told me the sentimentality powered it more. Because it's not just a ring that symbolizes love or a bond between two people, but it's a new start. Blending the past they chose to leave behind together with something new and different. Safer and secure. Together," Alex said. Michael swallowed, eyes unable to break away from Alex's. Alex cleared his throat and looked back down at it. "That's what she said anyway. There was probably two at one point, but I'm sure the other is lost to time."

"Yeah, okay. Okay," Michael said, agreeing without hesitation, "I'll take care of it and keep it safe."

He went to grab it, but Alex pulled it out of his reach.

"Michael," he said, "When I say it's powerful, I mean the moment you put it on, something's going to… happen."

Michael hadn't really intended to put it on, but it seemed Alex knew him well enough to know that eventually he would. 

"What kind of something?" 

"I don't know, Michael. I just know legend says it has unspeakable levels of power. So, please, be careful with it. I'd prefer you do it with someone around in case it overloads you or something," Alex said. Michael didn't point out what Isobel had before–he was the only one who didn't have a limit.

"Why not just put it on right now?" Michael said, "We're in the clear and you're here. Why not?" 

Alex breathed in and out, staring at him with that same worried, downing look. Michael selfishly enjoyed it for a few moments–enjoying that he cared that much. So he smirked and held out his left hand, feeling confident.

"Go ahead, Alex. Put a ring on it," he said. A smile pulled at Alex's lips that he fought, but he relaxed his shoulders and grabbed Michael's hand with his empty one.

Alex's hand was warm. Michael was sort of obsessed with the feeling of it. Why hadn't they been holding hands this entire time? 

"I'm right here, okay? So if you need me to take it off or if you feel like you're going to lose control, let me know. Try not to throw me," Alex said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit how much power I have injected into me, I'm not going to hurt you," Michael said. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Physically. Come on now, cut me some slack."

"Maybe," Alex said, putting the ring closer. Michael could feel it now that it was millimeters away from his skin, the power of it overwhelming. And Michael was intrigued. "Ready?"

"Always."

Alex slid the ring onto his ring finger.

The wave of power hit him instantly and, before he could adjust, sent him into a mindscape. Or–he thought it was. The room was damp and dark, unwelcoming. Michael looked around for something, someone, but he was alone. It was crowded with things, though, inventions and technological structures. It looked like his own lair but significantly less familiar, less comforting. 

“Michael?”

Michael turned towards the voice and saw Alex at the top of a ladder, staring down at him with a face that said he was doing everything to stay calm. He had red stains on his clothes. Michael stared at him, unsure what to do. Alex was down the ladder and centimeters away from him so quickly that it could only be achieved by him seeing something that wasn’t happening just yet.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, instinctually, “Where are we? What is this place?”

Alex looked around the room, his face betraying his pain before he met Michael’s eyes again. Then his hand was on Michael’s cheek with a warm and grounding presence. Michael’s heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“My research,” he sighed, “Half of it’s destroyed anyway. Let’s go.” Michael didn’t really think that sounded right. This didn’t feel like Alex’s space. He’d been in enough of Alex’s spaces before to know what they felt like. This wasn’t it.

“Your research?” he said. Alex gave him a look and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Stop that,” Michael said, his voice sounding more irritated than he meant. He could feel the anger in his body, but he didn’t know the source. “Stop not telling me things. You keep doing that. You need to tell me.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed, swallowing, “But we need to get out of here. I swear I’ll tell you once we get in the car. But we need to get out of here.”

“You promise you’ll tell me in the car?” Michael said. Alex nodded.

“I promise.”

They were upstairs just as fast as Alex had been downstairs. Michael saw blood. He turned his head to find the source, but Alex’s hand was back on his neck to stop him.

“Don’t look. Let’s just go to the car.”

“What, you tryna baby me?” Michael asked, “You know I’ve seen some shit.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex said, still leading him towards the door as his thumb dug slightly into the muscle on his neck, “Doesn’t mean I have to show you more.”

Michael sucked in a breath and he was thrown back into his body, the power from the ring still thrumming through him and teasing a possible second surge. It was old and unused and desperate to stretch out some of it's pent up energy.

Alex was there, staring at him and holding onto him. He was so close, so real, and so was that memory that was just in the opposite direction. Michael stared at him, taking him in.

"What happened?" Alex asked, hands squeezing his biceps. His hand started to slide up, but stopped at his shoulder. "Hey, you with me?" 

"Yeah," Michael said, "I'm okay."

"What happened?"

"I think, uh," Michael breathed, swallowing. His throat felt dry again. The heat of the hotel seemed to work with the heat inside him; he was on fire in the best way. "I got, like, That's So Raven'd."

Alex blinked a couple times, his thumb moving in slow circles against his collarbone not too far from where it’d been moments ago in his vision. Michael wanted to let his eyes roll back into his head and just sink into the bed with Alex beside him and let this undeniable strength course through him.

"You saw the future?" he said, "Like one of Maria's visions?" 

"I think so," Michael confirmed, "Only… mine wasn't of something bad. I mean, not really, anyway."

"What was it?" Alex asked. 

Michael licked his lips, studying Alex for a moment. The ring on his finger fit perfectly as if it was made for him. The power it gave settled nicely in him, pulsing and eager to be used just a little bit more, but in a childish, playful way. It wanted to stretch after too many years being cooped up.

"Hey, I'm going to try to see something else," Michael said. Alex's eyes went wide as saucers.

"What? Tell me what you saw the first time," Alex pressed, his hand shifting just enough to cup the side of his neck. Michael layered his hand over his, feeling bold and unperturbed. At some point, they were going to get there. He was sure of that more now than ever. 

And he wanted to see more.

" Michael ," Alex said, but Michael closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the power in the ring take him somewhere else.

And he was somewhere else. 

He was standing at the end of a driveway. He looked around and tried to grab some sort of identifier, but all he saw was a house behind him and then a school bus headed towards him. It stopped in front of him, a kid stepping off and running towards him with a backpack almost as big as she was. 

"Daddy!" the kid yelled and Michael tried his damnedest to act like he was meant to be here as the little body slammed against his legs for a welcoming hug. "Is Dad home yet? Can you tell him to get ice cream? I think we need ice cream."

"Oh, you think we need it?" Michael asked, walking with the kid towards the house. It felt natural, oddly enough. 

"Yes," the kid said simply, running towards the door. She threw it open and Michael laughed and jogged the rest of the way. He could hear her already telling a story about school and he was trying to stay close enough to follow.

He walked into a foyer, pictures lining the wall. Family portraits.

Him and Alex. The three of them.

When Michael came back to his senses, Alex was right there again and staring at him without faltering. The ring was still alive, but it was at a sated hum now that it had been used a few times. He wondered how it would feel doing something he understood. He couldn’t wait to try.

“Hey,” Alex said, soft and comforting as he welcomed his weight. The vision he had was definitely not what he was looking for, he wanted to know more about Alex’s research and why it all felt so wrong and where the hell they were, but the second one… 

“Hi,” Michael said, breathing and his eyes drifting down to his lips. Michael had experienced a lot of urges to kiss Alex before. Somehow this felt more dire.

“Please don’t do that again,” Alex said, “Maybe we should take it off.”

Michael shook his head carefully, eyes scanning him, “No, it feels fine now. It just needed to be used after being in a little box for decades. It’s good. Feels good.”

“Okay,” Alex said, still clearly hesitant. His fingers played with the hair at the back of Michael’s neck. There were two beds, but Michael was trying to figure out how to convince him to share one. They could fit. They’d shared smaller. “What’d you see?”

Michael breathed deep, wanting to get closer. He kept his hands to himself no matter how much he wanted to touch. He was being good. To get to where those visions said he was headed, he had to be good. Good for himself and Alex.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Michael said softly, “What are you researching? Who are you working with?”

Alex blinked once, twice before dropping his hand off of Michael. Which definitely hurt, but the fact that Alex didn’t move away definitely helped. 

“What did you see?” Alex asked again, more pressing, “I know you saw that I’m researching something.”

Michael shrugged. He technically did, but he didn’t see anything identifiable. He didn’t know what it was. He would like to. Then again, he’d always wanted to know everything about Alex Manes.

“I didn’t see what,” Michael said, “I just saw that someone’s going to fuck with it. I think. I don’t know, we were in this basement looking thing and it felt really off and, and not like you, but you said your stuff was in it. And you had blood on you and when we went upstairs, there was more blood. But you said not to look. I don’t know what you did or what happened, but, like, if you told me, maybe we can prevent it getting that extreme.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment. 

“You saw that both times?” Alex asked softly. Michael hesitated before shaking his head. “What else did you see, then?”

“Um,” Michael breathed, trying to think of the right words to say, “Uh. I don’t think, um…”

“ Michael.”

“Family portraits,” he said carefully, figuring that was easier to start with than a whole person who called them dad, “Like, ours. Um. I know we don’t belong in suburbia, but I guess we fucking get it anyway.”

He laughed. It wasn’t funny, but it was easier to say it like it was a joke. Alex looked at him, face confused.

“Suburbia? Like. White picket fence kinda thing?” Alex asked. Michael took a slow breath.

“I, uh, I didn’t see a fence, I was too focused on the‒” he stopped, licking his lips. Michael rubbed his thumb over the ring. It seemed to purr at the attention. Michael couldn’t wait to get back home and see what he could really do.

“On the what?” Alex prodded, reaching out to rest his hand on his leg and reigniting the contact. It felt so good. Michael really liked when he was touchy, it was his favorite thing about Alex.

“Um,” Michael breathed, feeling drunk off the attention and the ring all at once. He thought about lying, maybe that they were babysitting because that was close enough, but he was so tired of lies and half-truths and I’ll-tell-you-laters. “On the kid.”

Alex froze for a moment, “The kid?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, shrugging softly, “I, uh, I guess she was ours. She was calling us dad. Do we have any water? My throat is super dry.”

“I… I don’t think you’re seeing the future then, I’m never having kids. Do you realize how awful of a parent I would be? Awful. Neglectful. That’s not… And after I clearly fucking hurt people?”

“Maybe not,” Michael said, not about to argue right now. He was too busy feeling good. Alex kept his hand on his knee. “But whatever it was, it was good.”

Alex stared at him, quiet and clearly thinking things through. Michael let him. It was easier to give him space and time now. He’d gotten better at it before his visions, but they solidified to him that they were on a good path. It felt like they were making good choices and taking good steps. This was just a part of it.

Alex eventually took a deep breath, looked him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you what I’m doing, but you have to promise you’re going to stay out of it and trust me,” Alex said, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“And you’re gonna promise to be honest with me?” Alex said, “And stay safe. Like, seriously. Don’t be reckless just because. I know you.”

I know you.

“Yeah. I’m doing better now,” Michael said, stretching his hand out, “I am. But I’m… I’m tired of not doing shit together. Doing stuff separately always gets us in shitty situations, Alex, I wanna be a team. Can I be on your team?”

Alex swallowed and moved his hand up, tucking Michael’s hair behind his ear.

“Yeah. Be on my team. Let’s be a team,” Alex said. He shifted and Michael waited patiently, watching him. “Okay, so. Deep Sky. It’s… it’s got some good people, I think, but it’s overall fucked. I don’t trust anyone in there, but it’s where I’m doing my research. Sort of. So I’ll tell you.”

It almost felt too good to be true to hear, but he didn’t need the ring to know that Alex was being honest. It showed him anyway. Truthfulness radiated off of him in vibrant blues and whites. He didn’t even need to get in his mindscape to be sure of it. It was strange to feel like that was unnecessary, like his body didn’t need confirmation because it already knew.  It didn’t feel like he was stepping off a ledge. He hoped Alex had the same confidence, wondered what would happen if he put the ring on him.

If Alex still felt like he was stepping off the ledge, he was going to be sure to catch every inch of him this time. No piece would hit the ground like all the times before.

He was going to make this work.

“Everything?” 

“Everything.”

[violettelueur]

— ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + KUGISAKI NOBARA || COMFORTING THEIR S/O DURING THEIR PERIOD

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 27 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ request : hello!! I love ur blog sm it’s so cozy and safe!! i just wanted to order a black coffee of being comforted and taken care of by the main three (yuuji, megumi, and nobara) when the reader is on their period ;-; tysm!! ❤️❤️

↳ barista’s notes : hi there! let me admit this about my time of the month, i only get cramps/backache on like the first day and people tell me they don’t realise i’m not my time since i don’t have mood swings - which is surprising because i thought i did  ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and come to the cafe again soon ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

The day your period arrives, Itadori will have no idea and will probably be confused about why one second you are angry and the next you are crying - he is just a confused little baby.

Of course, Kugisaki will call him an idiot and will inform him that you are on your period if he hasn’t figured it out yet.

Once he comes into your room and finds you huddling under a mountain of blankets, he will slowly and carefully crouch down to your height and ask if you need anything - since asking if you were okay was not the ideal question (also advised by Kugisaki).

To be honest with you, all the knowledge and advice he has gotten about periods is from Kugisaki - I feel like she made him pay as well for lessons.

Of course, if you tell him you buy you chocolates, he will come back from the convenience store with more than that like snacks, water, chocolate, sweets, ice-cream and pads/tampons.

Just know there are multiple types of pads/tampons in the plastic bag because he doesn’t know what to pick for you and, of course, you thank him because you know he tried his best.

He will also provide you with a hot water bottle that probably has a cute animal cover on it for you since he doesn’t want the heat as well as plastic to burn your skin.

Itadori will cuddle you if you ask for it while placing his hand on your lower stomach to help soothe the cramps with your permission of course.

He will also set up yours or his laptop to watch movies and anime together, he will probably eat some of the snacks he has bought you - which made him learn to buy his whole for the next month.

Sometimes both you and Itadori will have a game night together, where you both would have your Nintendo Switches - which I don’t have personally - and probably play Animal Crossing - New Horizons to help make you forget your pain.

Sukuna will mock him for being a tiny bit scared at your aggressive behaviour when your mood suddenly switches.

In conclusion, Itadori is someone that will be wary around you since he doesn’t want a Kugisaki 2.0 to be his girlfriend but will try his best to make you feel the least amount of pain as much as he can.

Unlike Itadori, Fushiguro will know when you have started since he does have an older sister as well as two female cousins within his family.

When you had your first period during yours and Fushiguro’s relationship, he probably marked it on his calendar and has it on a series for it every month.

Fushiguro knows that you will come to his room when you are on and just flat drop flat on his bed because his scent helps you to forget the pain - this happens with me like sometimes the smell of lavender helps with my cramps...maybe it’s just me.

You probably know this but Fushiguro has all the essentials you need in his dorm kitchen and bathroom because of your monthly visits - he is prepared and very organised.

He will make sure you have eaten first before giving you painkillers since he wants you to feel somewhat better than you are now.

Fushiguro will summon one of his rabbits for you to cuddle with since he knows that some sort of warmth helps you - the thing is once the rabbit is in your arms, it is not escaping.

If you are having back pains, Fushiguro will help you by massaging your back to help comfort you - his divine dog will probably use its paws to help as well or maybe the rabbits will bounce on your back, I don’t know.

If you ask for something, Fushiguro is already on it and has it prepared as I have mentioned - he just doesn’t want to deal with your sudden lack of patience since he knows that you can get irritated very quickly.

If you suddenly start crying, it is over for Fushiguro because he wouldn’t know how to comfort you - his shikigami will do a better job than him and if Kugisaki was with him, she would yell at him 100%.

He would start by holding you in his arms but he will be stiff, of course, that doesn’t matter because you will tightly hold him back - which surprises him since for some reason this hug is stronger than your other ones.

If you want cuddles from him, he will be hesitant at first because of your mood swings, but once you give him the puppy dog eyes, he can’t resist you and will join you under his covers.

In conclusion, your monthly visit to Fushiguro’s dorms is one of his favourites because that means he gets to come back from missions and find you in his room, he is always prepared and ready to handle the situation - even though, he is quite wary of the short-temper that you have for the next 5-7 days.

The expert of periods is here! Kugisaki Nobara is the one to be with when you have your period because this girl probably knows everything compared to Itadori and Fushiguro.

When I think about it, she probably has spare pads/tampons in her bags/pockets and will offer one to you when you need it.

However, unlike Fushiguro, she probably doesn’t have any painkillers with her and will probably have to make a trip for you to get some or ask Fushiguro if he has any to save time.

You don’t have to worry about snacks because I know she has a stash of sweets and cakes in her dorm room and will give you some of it - mostly likey chocolate cake or chocolate-covered strawberries.

She already has a water bottle prepared for you as well as a back massager because she is boujee with that Jujutsu Tech money that she has been provided with.

Like Itadori, you and Kugisaki will play games together - I feel like people forget she’s a gamer since she did mention Smash Bro’s in the anime and little scenarios in the manga as well - especially battle games as a way to release your anger from the pain you are suffering from.

If you ever cry about being ugly - because we are emotional - she will hype you up with an angry tone: “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT BABE? YOU ARE GORGEOUS, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, STRONG AND AMAZING, DONT SAY ANYTHING OTHER THAN THAT!”

Kugisaki will also do your makeup since she wants you to feel your most beautiful since she and you know that breakouts during periods are just not it.

She will also help you with your skincare and probably introduced to some new products along the way since why not? 

You and Kugisaki will cuddle a lot during the beginning week and you both will probably have matching pyjamas on because you both just give off cute couple outfits vibes even when you both don’t go out.

Sometimes during your cuddling sessions, you and Kugisaki will be looking at her phone swiping through a few clothing sites and suggesting what you both should buy for your next date together and maybe research a few new cafes to try out.

Definitely will send cute selfies together to help you feel beautiful to the boys on the group chat because they need to know that you are in pain and they should send their condolences.

Netflix and ice-cream will be an everyday thing for the whole week you are on and to be honest, it is better than any date because you both are together with no distractions.

In conclusion, Kugisaki will make the time during your period a self-care girl’s week for the both of you and this will happen when she is on as well - and please, when you are both on, it is a nightmare for Itadori and Fushiguro (they will be nervous and avoid you both)

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[hanniiesuckle17]

Ateez Reaction: Going Clubbing with S/o

A/n: so this was requested based off my reaction for SKZ which you can find on my m.list at the bottom of the reaction! i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

Requested by: @sleepyhead00i

Warnings: suggestive, of age drinking, maybe a cuss or two

Hongjoong:

“I’m picking you up in ten mintues right?” Hongjoong asked for the fifth time over the phone. The device was laying on your bathroom counter, your boyfriend talking on speaker phone as you finished applying your makeup up. You smiled at how cute he was, brushing setting powder away from your cheeks.

“Joong, baby...honey..., yes. Come early if you want. Just chill. It’s just a night out!” 

He sighed before agreeing with you and hanging up the phone. Hongjoong wasn’t the only one with a busy schedule. He was busy being the leader, producer, and composer for one of the biggest up-and-coming k-pop groups of the current generation. You were busy with college and a part-time job that was having you work almost thirty to forty hours a week. 

Your boyfriend was a planner. Never before in his life had he been one to schedule things or even make long term plans for his future. Then you came along and all he could think about was making time for you. Any time he spent with you, he wanted to be perfect. Hongjoong wanted to give you only the best. 

By the time the two of you got to the club it was already packed. Your hand was laced with his as he guided you through the lavishly decorated room. “They’ve got amazing bottle service!” Hongjoong shouted over the music. “Do you want to get a table?” He smiled as you nodded and flagged down a waitress. She reserved a VIP booth for the two of you and grinned as you pulled Hongjoong to the dance floor. 

“Do you like the music? I looked up this DJ. He’s really good. He only plays for like the top nightclubs in Seoul-” 

“Joong,”

“What?” 

Sliding your hands up his chest, you felt him shiver. Your fingers played with his dyed hair and you watched his eyes sparkle underneath the flashing colored lights and lasers. The many piercings in his ears glinted, catching the glare of gobos. “Relax, baby.” 

“I just want everything to be perfect. I want you to love tonight.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, but you continued to move to the beat. His eyes never left yours even as you guided him away from the dance floor and back to the booth. His dark mesmerizing eyes watched as you pushed him down onto the seat, lips curling up into a smile. As you leaned over him, Hongjoong pulled you down onto his lap, smirking as you played with the straps of his suspenders before snapping one of them on his chest lightly. 

Finally, almost when you thought he would stop breathing, you pressed your lips against his, dragging them slowly together. His hands gripped your hips, moving them over his own, lost in the solitude of your own private nook. “Just keep doing this and I’ll love every second of tonight,” You whispered against your boyfriend’s grinning lips. You laughed feeling him flip you over to lie on the plush velvet booth. Even in the dark corner, his smile glowed. 

“You drive me crazy, Y/n.”

Seonghwa:

Clubbing never really appealed to Seonghwa. Dancing and public events were part of his job on a daily basis so he didn’t really see the point of waiting in line just to do that in his free time. But, when he heard how much you wanted to spend the night at an up and coming nightclub, he figured he could put aside his opinions just for you. He also wasn’t complaining when he saw the dress you were wearing out. 

 Arm wrapped tightly around your waist the two of you entered the club, lasers and colorful lights flashing all around the space. Seonghwa nodded his head to the music as you both stood waiting to check your coats. The second an attendant took your jackets you grabbed your boyfriend by the wrist and practically dragged him onto the dance floor. 

“Don’t tear my arm off, babe!” He laughed.

The grin quickly turned to a smirk feeling you pressed up against him, moving to the music. “Still feel like going to the club isn’t fun?” His long hands attached themselves to your waist, tugging your back to be flush to his chest. Seonghwa’s hips moved to the thumping rhythm with yours and his head dropped to your neck, hair tickling your cheek in the most enchanting way. “Well, look at you, Toothless.” 

“Yes, look at me,” He whispered for only you to hear. 

Turning your head your lips met his in a kiss that made you feel drunk. Pulling away, the two of you smiled and danced with each other, savoring the moments when even you were surrounded by so many other bodies it only felt like just you and your boyfriend. 

Hours later you were sitting on the sidewalk, head feeling too heavy for your neck to hold up. You giggled to yourself at how funny your feet looked in the strappy heels you put on for the night. Sitting under the street light you stared at the ground and your silly looking toes. Another pair of shoes came into sigh and the person attached crouched down in front of you. 

A happy smile appeared on your lips seeing Seonghwa looking down at you. His own cheeks were slightly pink for the few drinks he had. “Drink this, muffin.” Your boyfriend handed you some bottle of something he got from the convenience store across the street. After drinking it, he gently lifted you up and maneuvered you onto his back. “Time to go home, Y/n.” You only giggled, pressing a sloppy drunk kiss to his cheek. 

“Onward my valiant steed!” 

Seonghwa, tipsy himself, neighed like a horse and carried you to the nearest bus stop he could find. The two of you giggled and poked each other until the public transport arrived to take you both home. 

Yunho:

Yunho was practically bouncing as the two of you waited in line. He was so excited. This all started when your boyfriend invited over one of the backup dancers he was close to. You had no problem with Yunho bringing friends over to your shared apartment. He could bring whoever he wanted as long as th eplace was clean and he texted you. 

But, the dancer would not stop going on about a new club that opened up in Hongdae. Normally when Yunho got excited about something he would be obsessed with it for about a week and then never thought about it again. 

You had been to this club not once, not twice, not thrice, but five times in the past three weeks. By this time the owner knew you and was saving a booth for you when you came. The bartenders knew you by name and what your usual drink orders. 

Despite the chilly air your boyfriend jumped up and down in excitement as the line moved forward. “Y/n! Y/n! Look! We’re almost inside!” Yunho grabbed your hands, swinging them as he bounced. 

“Bear, are you sure you aren’t tired of going clubbing?” 

He tilted his head in response to your words. “What? No. I love it! Don’t you, baby?” His lips pouted and your tall boyfriend hunched his shoulders. Quickly you shook your head. 

“Of course, bear! I just want to make sure you love it still!” You rubbed your arms feeling a particularly cold wind blow by. Seeing you shiver, Yunho shed his jacket and placed it around your shoulders, pulling up the collar to block the wind.

“Good.” The tall idol leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get inside.” 

Showing the bouncer your IDs, the two of you entered the club immersing yourselves in music that sent vibrations all throughout your body. “Get me a drink?” You asked, dropping off your stuff at a secluded booth. Yunho nodded and disappeared into the crowd towards the bar. 

He was only gone a few moments before you heard, “DRINKS ON ME EVERYBODY!” The familiar sound of your boyfriend’s voice floated over the crowd of people cheering at the opporunity of a free drink. Shaking your head you waited for your big loveable bear to return. He appeared with two drinks in hand,  a big smile on his face, and a wiggle in his hips. The vision couldn’t help but make you laugh. “Your beverage, my lady,” He bowed before handing you the martini. 

After finishing your drinks, your boyfriend pulled you onto the dance floor. He held you tight and made sure to show off his moves. By the time you left the dance floor, the both of you were covered in sweat with big grins and definitely a little tipsy. However, it didn’t matter. You loved seeing how happy Yunho was dancing and freestyling to songs that he wouldn't even remember the next morning. As long as it made him happy, you would keep doing it. 

Yeosang:

The second you walked into the club Yeosang made a beeline for the booth and flagged down the nearest waiter. Wooyoung just shrugged and dragged you onto the dance floor. The next time you looked over Yeosang was surrounded by at least two orders of chicken and one burger. Each had bites already taken and your boyfriend was happily chewing on a drumstick. 

He saw you looking at him and waved to you before returning his attention to the piece of fried poltry. You sighed but continued dancing with Wooyoung. Maybe you were crazy, but when you suggested going clubbing to Yeosang, you didn’t think you would end up dancing with his dongsaeng while he pigged out on good bar food. You had dressed up for fucks sake! You made sure you looked like a hot ass bitch and Yeosang was more interested in a chicken leg. 

Wooyoung made sure you were happy. He danced with you. Blocked off weird guys from getting to close. Even held your drink when you went to the bathroom. Wooyoung was acting more like your boyfriend than Yeosang was! 

Two hours passed and you finally decided to confront him. Wooyoung trailed behind you like a puppy as you approached the booth that housed your boyfriend. Shockingly, the table was now filled with not only another basket of chicken but also quite the assortment of drinks, none of which had been touched. “Kang Yeosang!” You scolded, hands on your hips. He looked up at you, handsome face looking even better under the purple and blue lights. “Why am I dancing alone?”

He shrugged. “Babe, you aren’t alone. Wooyoung’s here. That’s why I asked him.” He said motioning to his friend. The boy awkwardly waved before sitting down and taking one of the untouched cocktails. 

“Where did all these come from?” You asked, getting frustrated. 

“I don’t know. The bartender keeps sending them.” Yeosang continued to eat chicken until the bone was clean. “Says they are free though, so take one.”

You scoffed, tongue prodding at the inside of your cheek in annoyance. Looking around the venue, you were met with many pairs of eyes belonging to beautiful scantily dressed girls and a few men who were all staring at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend- of course- was staring at the perfectly fried chicken leg in his hands. 

Taking the nearest blue colored drink, you downed it in one go then slammed the glass on the table. Woyoung jumped at the sound. Before Yeosang could take a bite of the new piece between his fingers, you pulled him up by his collar smashing your lips against his. Hearing a slight thunk you assumed he had dropped his precious drumstick. Regardless, he kissed you back with a fiery passion running his fingers threw your hair. 

“You’re dancing with me.”

“Okay.” Eyeing every person staring at your boyfriend you took his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor, but not before he managed to sneak another piece of chicken with him. “You have what you want now, kitten?” He asked dancing with you, one hand creeping towards your ass and the other holding his fried chicken. 

“I’ll take what I can get,”

San:

“San......SAN!” 

“Yes, what?” 

Your boyfriend was walking down the street with you, excited and bouncing as the both of you made your way to a club a lot of idols went to. This was no time for excitement. Not for you anyway. You and San had only been dating a few months. It wasn’t that you were shy...it was just that San was very territorial. Out of all seven of his bandmates you had only met two. 

Hongjoong you had met unfortunately after he walked in on you and San when your horndog boyfriend thought the dorms were empty for the day. You were still trying to get over the embarassment of looking that man in the eyes and not remembering he had seen you naked already. Wooyoung you had also met, with clothes on (Thank the fucking lord). Him being San’s best friend it didn’t make sense for you not to meet. 

“What if they don’t like me?” You questioned. There was only a block standing between you and the club. “What if they hate me, San?” He stopped and turned to look at you, eyes softening. 

Walking back, San took your hands in his. “Y/n. You’re mine. Therefore, they will love you.” Taking a deep breath you let San pull you the rest of the way and into the nightclub. San was like an anchoring, keeping you tethered and focused as you maneuvered to the back of the venue. As you approached a view of seven extremely handsome men were all seated in a round velvet booth. “Guys, meet Y/n- the most attractive person on the planet besides me.”

All the boys were very kind, getting up and greeting you warmly. Hongjoong hugged you, and Wooyoung tackled you. “You’re pretty.” A willowy man stated matter of factly. 

San nodded, hand on the small of your back. “That Yeosang. Yunho made sure he had a couple drinks before you met so it’d be easier on you.” You nodded in understanding, mouth shaping into an ‘O’. After a few minutes of awkward conversation all seven idols dragged you out onto the dance floor. 

Dancing with seven men who did it professionally was definitely an experience you were not going to get used to. The entire club watched the tree you remembered as Yunho freestyle in the middle of an open circle that had formed at one point. 

Throughout the whole night San stayed by your side. His hands were almost always on your ass, but he was by your side. You got surprisingly close with Seonghwa, dancing and talking with him most of the night. The other boys were very welcoming, pulling you into dance with them, twirling you around and jumping around you when a particularly good song came on. 

San and Wooyoung at one point during the night bribed the DJ to play one of their songs and the boys were shocked to see you doing the choreography along with them. You could see in your boyfriend’s face that this was what he had planned all along. 

He knew that if he kept both him and you sober and brought you to a neutral environment to meet with the boys, you would get along. He probably saw it in a video about introducing a new pet to your other ones knowing San. Around three am you were helping Seonghwa and Hongjoong stuff a drunk Yeosang and Mingi into the group’s van. 

After saying goodbye, San took your hand as you walked to the nearest subway station. “See that wasn’t so bad. They loved you!”

“Next time don’t treat us like cats, babe.” Your boyfriend laughed swinging your hands back and forth. “I’m hungry. You want to get some food?” You asked, seeing a pizza place across the street still open

“Fuck yes. I’m starving.”

Mingi:

Your best friend just got dumped by her boyfriend and you knew only one way to distract her. So, you gathered up you other two best girl friends and Mingi then dragged them to the club with the most attractive guys and strongest alcohol you could find. F/n whipped her hair around as the four of you jumped around on the dance floor. Three shots of tequila and one strong cocktail made you at least think you were the greatest dancer in the entire club.

Deciding you needed a break from a very creepy guy trying to grind on you, you manuevered and wiggled your way off the dance floor. Your eyes landed on the tall glass of water that was your boyfriend, who sat at the bar. With a tipsy gait you walked over and draped yourself over his shoulder. 

“Hi, baby!” You greeted, sloppily kissing his cheek. 

Despite your slightly drunk antics, Mingi smiled holding onto your arms that tightly hugged his shoulders. “You look like you’re having fun.” He laughed as you hiccuped in response. “Wow...you’re cute.”

Blushing from both the drinks and your boyfriend’s words, you held onto his large hands. “Thank you for being our driver tonight, Mingi.” He smiled and handed you the glass of water he was drinking from. His long fingers pushed the bottom of the cup to tilt towards your lips. 

“Of course. In fact the only reason I got my driver’s license was so I could watch creepy horny guys hit on my girlfriend and then drive her and her friends home.” As if the universe wanted to make a joke, the bar tender approached with a cosmopolitan in hand. 

“For the lady, from the guy at the end of the bar.” 

Mingi’s sarcastic grin quickly turned into a scowl as the both of you turned to look at the sleezy but semi attractive man who was waving at you. Your boyfriend wasn’t one to get angry, but when he did he was scary. Mingi’s eyes darkened and his long arms wrapped around your waist protectively as if to claim you as his own. 

Smirking, you picked the vessel up by the rim and took a sip of the drink before grabbing your boyfriend by the jaw and smashing your lips on his, still holding the gifted cocktail. Standing between Mingi’s long legs you dragged your teeth over his bottom lip. “I think he knows you’re mine.” 

“Just cause you’re driving doesn’t mean you can’t dance with me.” Mingi laughed as you pulled him from his seat. 

“I thought this was a ‘Girls-Hate-All-Guys-Except-For-The-Random-One-F/n-Goes-Home-With-Night’?” 

You shrugged, lacing your fingers with his. Surpringly, your friends greeted him excitedly. Mingi started dancing with you, enjoying the knowledge that every guy who looked at you that night was jealous you chose him to grind on. At the end of the night Mingi drove you and your friends back safely and put you to bed in your shared apartment. He kissed your forehead before climbing into bed next you. You were so thankful to have a kind and patient boyfriend willing to put up with not only drunk you, but also your drunk, sad, crazy friends.

Wooyoung:

Sweat dripped off your forehead. Between Wooyoung’s hands on your body and the music thumping and vibrating through the floor and up into your bones you couldn’t help but feel like you were floating. Not only was your boyfriend one hell of a dancer on stage, but moving with him on the floor of this club that you couldn’t even remember the name of was a thrill you wouldn’t trade for anything. 

“I'm thirsty,” You whispered into his ear, lips brushing his skin.

“Oh are you?” A smirk played at his lips, fingers holding tighter onto your hips. 

You rolled your eyes, still presssing against your boyfriend. “Liquid thirsty. Not you thirsty.” Lauging, Woouyoung took your hand in his and brought you to the bar for yet another drink. It had only been an hour and the both of you were a little more than tipsy. “Sidecar please, babe.” He nodded, flagging down a bartender all the while his hand stayed firmly gripping onto your ass.

“One sidecar and four tequila shots please.”

“Four?” You asked, pulling on his shirt sleeve. Wooyoung nodded like it was the most clear and obvious knowledge in the world. “I have a feeling I’m going to be carrying you home.” He just laughed and turned back to the bar. 

Two hours later and your feeling was turning out to be correct. There was nothing you could do but stare as your boyfriend danced like a stripper ontop of the bar. At first it was funny. Then you stopped laughing when Wooyoung started unbuttoning his shirt. “Babe, get down!” You shouted over the cheers and music. He couldn’t hear you. He was way too drunk and having way too much fun. 

“I am Jung Wooyoung! I am a sex machine! And that person,” He pointed to you, eyes clearly not focusing well. “THAT ASS IS MINE!” 

Before you could respond, two very big men in black shirts lumbered through the crowd. Now it was your turn to laugh as the two buff bouncers grabbed Wooyoung by the arms, one struggling to get your boyfriend’s shirt back on, and lifted him off the bar. “Who does this hooligan belong to?”

You raised your hand, squeezing through the pack of young people. “Me. He belongs to me! I’ll take the hooligan.” Despite claiming your overly intoxicated boyfriend, the bouncers carried him outside, you trailing behind. 

Wooyoung’s feet wobbly reached the ground and he stumbled onto the street. “Y/n? Y/n where are youuuu?” He said giggling. “Love of my liiiiiifffeeeee!” The bouncers shook their heads before turning to you with serious faces. 

“Yeah, he’s not allowed back here.”

“Noted.”

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNN! BAAABBBYYYY!”

Turning, you saw the idol once again free of his shirt and hugging a street sign. “Babe, babe- that’s not me. I’m over here.” Taking his arm and pulling it over your shoulder you started walking away from the club. “Wow, you are way heavier than I thought.”

“DON’T FAT SHAME ME!”

“Woo- please don’t yell.” No response came from the man you were carrying. Turning you saw him completely pass out on your shoulder. “There’s never a middle ground with him is there?” You mumbled, dragging your unconscious and heavy boyfriend to the nearest bus stop.

“Stop calling me fat, you jerk.”

“I- I didn’t- Just go back to fucking sleep.”

Jongho:

Jongho was not excited. This was the last place he wanted to be. He watched you happily walk in front of him with Mingi and Yunho. Jongho wasn’t the jealous type and he knew you loved his friends. Mingi was already a little drunk so your boyfriend watched as the other tall man and you attempted to keep him from stumbling, laughing the entire way. 

Your group was currently walking from the first club to the second. The boys had gotten an entire weekend off and Yunho had proposed the amazing idea- only to you and Mingi- of going club crawling. Even though he would rather being doing practically anything else, Jongho tagged along because you were so excited. 

As you entered the second venue you were greeted by what Jongho sweared was the exact same song the first club was playing when you left. You squealed, hugging onto your boyfriend as he and your friends squeezed your way to the bar. While your boyfriend was never one for PDA, he kept a hand on you at all times, gently letting everyone in the building know that you were off limits. 

“LET’S SHAKE OUR BUTTS!” Mingi shouted, throwing you over his tall shoulder and running off with you to the dance floor. You waved to your boyfriend who stayed seated at the bar. “WOOOOOOO!” Your friend cheered, putting you down and immeditaley spinning you around.

Yunho tapped Jongho’s shoulder. The younger turned before being handed a beer. “If you aren’t going to dance you should at least loosen up. Tonight is supposed to be fun. For everybody.” Yunho tried to coax him onto the dance floor but failed, leaving Jongho at the bar taking tiny baby sips of the drink.

Everytime you looked to the bar, you were met with your boyfriend’s eyes staring back at you. He would give you a small smile, one that made you feel like a total bitch for leaving him by himself. Having enough, you walked away from your dancing bafoons and towards the handsome man waiting for you at the bar. 

“You want a drink?” He asked, hand finding your waist once more. Nodding, you rested your head on his firm chest, breathing in his smell. You were drunk enough to get away with being clingy but sober enough to remember that the only reason your boyfriend was here was for you. “One manhatten for the lady please,” Jongho said to the bartender. 

You were quickly passed your drink, pecking your boyfriend’s lips as a thank you. The drink left a pleasurable burn as it slid down your throat. “Darling, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Hold my drink?”

“Of course.” He kissed your cheek and covered your glass with his hand when you set it on the bartop. 

When you returned he was still protecting the glass like it was his singular purpose in life. He practically looked like a dragon, ready to bite off the head of anyone who even came near it. He even glared at you when your hand touched his shoulder, but his gaze quickly softened eyes turning into that of a puppy.

The two of you talked and finished your drinks. Yunho and Mingi were still in full control of the dance floor when you checked. Suddenly you got an idea. Leaning over so only Jongho could hear, you whispered a large incentive he might receive when the two of you got home. 

“Well come on, Y/n! Let’s dance!” He cheered, pulling you with him towards his friends, dancing along the way.

Masterlist

[kamyru]

Hi Kamyru :D I hope you have a nice day today 😊 Can you make what would they say to cheer you up on a bad day ? it could be one of your favourite guys/more. (takado/hideki/toshiaki/jun/kasumi's) It's not urgent or anything, so I hope you'll try to write it when you're down or when you have the inspiration ✨

Hi! Thank you so much for this ask. I know that I answer it after more than half a year. But I enjoyed writing it, especially because the exams are coming. I hope everyone who is down now will be better soon. Take care, you all! ❤️

How do they cheer up MC when she has a bad day? (Munechika Takado, Hideki Ishigami, Toshiaki Kijima, Toshiki Kasumi, Jun Araki)

Munechika Takado

If Munechika sees that his girlfriend struggles with something, he will first try to make her smile. That means that he can use his usual sarcasm.

Of course, sarcastic comments aren't the easiest to digest after a hard and long day.

So, Dr. Takado has to find another way to make his MC happy again.

Even if they are at work, he will kiss and hug her.

Takado will be glued to MC till she is better. He will follow her everywhere. If she stands still, he has his hands wrapped around her and his chin on top of her head.

Do you remember his giant thesaurus of synonyms for dumb? His reserve of endearing words is even bigger. Kasumi is the one who remembers the most of them (because he wants to use them for his SO).

Babe, honey, love, sweetheart, turtledove, buttercup, sunshine. He doesn't use any of this twice a day.

He is the type of guy to drive MC around the city to show her beautiful sceneries.

Takado will take a lot of photos with her. After she is better, he will show them. Some of them are glued on the inside of his locker, near the ones with a smiling MC.

While driving, Munechika will let MC choose the playlist. If she wants to stay in silence, he will hum from time to time.

When MC is finally ready to talk, he won't disturb her. He will validate her feelings, even if he knows that he would have acted differently in some situations.

Munechika will let MC fall asleep in his hands and then put her in bed while cuddling till he falls asleep too.

Hideki Ishigami

It's canon that he will send good vibes to his MC when she has a bad day.

Also, he will cook for her. And he will do everything possible to find all snacks that MC loves. Even if he has to go to Antarctica and make a deal with a dangerous clan of penguins, he will do it in less than five minutes.

Ishigami will talk more and with a higher-pitched voice.

His spectrum of emotions becomes ten times larger. He wants his MC to know what to expect from him, so he becomes very foreseeable.

He will watch his MC from afar while having the softest smile on his face, hoping that she will be better.

Also, he will follow her like a lost puppy. MC is in the kitchen and eats what he prepared for her? He sits with his legs on the sides of the chair and his head resting on the back of the chair, with his hand underneath his chin. MC tries to read or watch something to relax? He leans on the door frame and watches her.

It continues like this till MC comes to him and hugs him, with her face buried in his chest.

That melts Ishigami's heart. He hugs her tightly, yet softly. In less than a few seconds, MC is lying on him.

Ishigami won't ask anything. Yet, his touch is so loving that MC will spill everything.

He will listen to her, nodding from time to time and squeezing her even harder.

Also, if MC wants to eat every pudding she finds in the house, Ishigami won't stop her. He will go to the convenience store and buy more.

Toshiaki Kijima

He grew up in an inn that has hot springs. Of course, for him, one of the most relaxing things is a hot bath.

So, if MC comes home exhausted, angry, sad after a hard day, he will prepare a bath for her.

Toshiaki will bathe her in a non-sexual way.

He isn't a big fan of all cosmetic procedures, essences, etc. Though, he will add everything MC wants to help her relax.

He will remove her makeup with the most gentle movements possible.

When MC is finally in the bathtub, he will softly pour water on her shoulders, asking her from time to time if the temperature is good.

After the bath, Toshiaki will dry her hair in silence, humming from time to time.

When he finishes all the beauty procedures, he will kiss every part of MC's face and try to make her giggle.

Also, he will whisper kind words and play with her hair.

Toshiaki will ask MC what she wants to do next or what she craves.

If MC says something, he will do everything to fulfill her wishes.

If MC stays silent and is too overwhelmed to do anything, he will cuddle with her.

After MC falls asleep, he kisses the top of her head.

Toshiki Kasumi

This man's curiosity in people's life is on a whole other level.

He is so smooth and cute that he is the only one that can make MC talk about her struggles from the beginning.

Kasumi can't bear to see how his lover is sad or overwhelmed. So, he makes MC talk.

While MC spills everything, he nods and gives her sweets.

After a few sentences, she will be sitting in his lap, with her head resting on his chest.

Even if Sen bothers them, Kasumi will give him such a frightening glare that he will let them be.

Kasumi will ban MC from studying that day and make sure that she relaxes and knows how much she is loved.

He knows that if MC wants to call him Toshiki while in such a state, he will let her. Though, she doesn't have to know this.

Kasumi shows her photos with Kalmia to lift her mood.

After every bad day MC has, Kasumi plans a date. It took MC a while to observe this.

If a person is responsible for MC's bad mood, he will glare frightening at them for at least a month.

If MC's way to cope with this is something strange, he will let her be. Though, he will always be near her to let her know that she has someone that cares about her. Don't forget that this man spent hours putting flowers in separate vases.

The times he calls her cute or declares his love multiply exponentially. Also, he will pinch MC's cheeks to make her smile.

Jun Araki

His first impulse will be to ask her what she could do better.

Then, he will understand that it's not what someone wants after struggling for an entire day.

He won't say too much. Jun isn't the best with words. So, he won't know what to say, how to say it, how not to hurt his girlfriend with his words. He'll show everything he feels through his actions while shutting his mouth completely.

Though, this doesn't mean that his mind will be silent. He will have imaginary dialogues with MC. That's his way to try to put his thoughts into words.

Little by little, he'll start to talk to MC. But only after he is confident that he can express himself.

Jun will talk to Takuro and make the cat spend more time with his owner because he knows how useful are pets for their owners in troubled times.

He will also cook something easy to digest but healthy so that his MC won't be hungry.

Also, a lot of sweets. If the food Jun makes is healthy, what comes afterward isn't. He has a sweet tooth. So, he thinks that one of the best ways to lift someone's mood is through sweets.

He will cuddle. Jun isn't the biggest lover of cuddling. Because his schedule is always full and he is a hard worker, spending time in bed doing nothing isn't too appealing for him. Though, if MC struggles and needs support, he will be ready to give her everything she needs, cuddles included.

If MC is sad because of someone, that person better leaves the country as fast as possible because the CEO is coming after them.

[mrs-i-have-too-many-biases]

Stray Kids’ reaction to their S/O catching them stare

Scenario: You catch them stare.

Genre: Fluff/ Humour Pairing: Stray Kids members X Reader Word count: 2,3K Warnings: None. Author’s note: I was in highly need of some fluff and I think more STAYs are <3. Take care everyone! Priorities your mental health and your physical health of course and STAY safe!

Chan:

The two of you had entered a café, wanting to work together even though you both had a day off. You had to admit, the pair of you were workaholics, yet very supportive of one another and rather protective of each other’s health. Chan insisted on going on a date, but since there was a lot of work to do, you both brought your laptops along.

You had been sitting together in silence in a corner booth of the café, both concentrated on your own work as you sipped on your tea. Chan sighed after writing lyrics for a new song and stretched his tired body whilst looking at you. He smiled at himself when he saw your puffed cheeks and the small pout that were showing on your face.

He thereafter rested his and under his head for support as he unconsciously began to stare. He felt his chest warm up when he looked at you, the amount of love he felt towards you was almost overwhelming, but he wouldn’t mind drowning in it any day.

You were losing motivation and concentration to keep on working and decided to take a small break. Whilst taking your eyes off the screen in front of you, you could sense a pair of eyes watching you. When Chan shyly looked away from you and panicked to act cool, you knew you caught him staring. “What? Is my beauty that distracting?” You joked whilst wiggling your eyebrows. “Yes, very.” Chan mutters, causing your heart to flutter, leaning closer to him to press a kiss on his cheek, this time it was his heart that was fluttering.

Minho:

You had invited, well basically dragged your boyfriend to your auntie’s wedding. She was one of your favourite persons in the world, Minho of course being one of them. She had drunkenly dragged you later during the party onto the dancefloor, splitting your from your boyfriend. She had been dancing with you for a while as Minho was being bored by your other aunties who were almost having an interview with him as they bombarded him with questions.

‘What do you do for a living?’ ‘Do you earn much-‘ ‘Janice don’t ask that, don’t be rude… But do you?’

Minho was desperately looking through the crowd to find you and when he did, he felt the heavy feeling of bothersome fall off his shoulders when your smile caught his eyes. You were his instant happiness, a little happy virus that he needed in his life.

You didn’t notice your boyfriend staring at you as you continued to dance, but your still-wasted auntie did. She made eye contact and signed to Minho to take over the dancing. And before you knew it you felt a pair of hands around your waist, scaring you for a second until you heard Minho’s voice whisper in your ear.

“Enjoying yourself without me honey?” He pouted. “A little guess, you were as well watching me, but it’s always better when I’m with you.” You winked as you had turned around to dance with him, holding his hand before pulling him closer to your body. “Beautiful.” Minho muttered, making you blush as you playfully hit his chest and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Leaving Minho bursting out in laughter.

Changbin:

Binnie had dragged you to the studio as he wanted to work on some projects a little longer. You had been home alone due to Covid and really wanted to get out of the apartment for a while. Seated on one of the leather chairs behind Bin you were munching on some chips he had quickly picked up from a convenience store across the road.

“Baby, can you listen to this for me? I don’t know how I feel about it.” Your boyfriend mutters before handing you the headphones that he was wearing before. Placing it over your head you listened to the beat that your talented boyfriend had composed.

Changbin in the meantime was waiting nervously for you to finish listening. He always thought that your opinion weighted heavily on his music. He wanted everything to be perfect and that you surely would love it, which you did either way.

He was caught up staring at you that he didn’t notice that you were already done and talking to him, giving positive feedback and telling him what you loved about the song already.

“Binnie?” “Y-yes! I was listening! Yes! Hi!” He stuttered, making you giggle. “You’re cute Dwaekki.” You teased, pinching his cheeks as they heated up after being caught. “Hush, you’re the cute one here baby.” He mutters, trying to hide his face in the palms of his hands shyly.

Hyunjin:

‘Let’s go on a date.’ He had suggested as it was your one-year anniversary.

You now were getting ready for the date, he had made reservations at your favourite restaurant and planned on taking Kkami with you. Whilst fixing your hair and applying a little makeup in your shared bedroom, you didn’t notice your boyfriend of one year entering the bedroom in the room next to you.

“Sweetie, do you know where my silk blouse is?” He had asked, peaking his head through the doorframe, expecting you to answer him. But silence filled the room instead as you didn’t hear him and he was stunned by your beauty.

Through the year he had been around with you, especially since the two of you decided quite early in your relationship to move in together, yet every time Hyunjin saw you getting ready, he was mesmerised.

To him you were an angle that was send from above and he couldn’t help but admire the beautiful creation he was blessed enough to call his. You caught his stares as you made eye contact with him through the mirror, causing the both of you burst out in giggles and only being able to make out gibberish in your flustered states.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, kissing your hair whilst hugging you from behind. “Speak for yourself handsome.” You giggled before pressing your lips on his.

Jisung:

“Here’s your cheesecake!” You chirped, handing your boyfriend his plate as you sat down next to him. “You’re the best.” He cried out dramatically before pressing kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. “I know, now shush and watch the movie Han.” You said, focussing your eyes on the screen in front of you after teasing Jisung, who couldn’t help but pout.

The movie wasn’t that thrilling to him and wandered his eyes off the screen rather often. They landed on you, who was fixated on Aladdin who was singing ‘A whole new world’ with Jasmine. The cheesecake that you held also made its way to your mouth every once in a while and Jisung smiled to himself as he watched you adopt yet another habit of his, which was stuffing his cheeks as he ate.

He had rested his head on the sofa that the two of you were sitting on as he continued to stare at you. He really had no choice. You were wearing his oversized hoodie and you looked more beautiful than ever to him. He never really liked extravagant dates with candlelight dinners every time he wanted to spend time with you. A big blanket, cuddles and some good snacks did the trick for him.

As Jisung was thinking about how much he loves you he didn’t notice that you had turned your head to him, wondering if he heard you after you cracked a joke. “Sungie?” No reaction. Causing you to giggle. “Earth to Sung?” You teased, waving your hand in front of his face, making him jump in his seat. “Take a picture baby, it lasts longer.” You snickered trying to hug him, as Jisung hid his face under the fluffy blanket.

Felix:

A visit to the dog café had become a weekly routine of yours and Lix.

He had pretty much become attached to the dogs, but since they couldn’t take care of them at the dorms due to work and other schedules, Lix made a promise to himself to visit them as much as possible.

And after he met you he had brought you along with him ever since. You really loved seeing him so excited to play with the dogs. It was almost like he had become a puppy himself. “I’m sorry have you seen my boyfriend, I can only spot these adorable puppies.” You had jokes once, making him burst out in heartily laughter. “Your loyal companion is here!” Lix would play along before skipping his way to you and surprising you with a tight embrace.

Today, you were seated, eyes fixated on the puppy in your lap, as Felix played with the others. His heart swelled at the sight of you babying the small creature on your lap, playing peek-a-boo with it. He felt a little jealous of the puppy as it was receiving more attention than he was from you, causing him to continue to stare at you.

Because he first of all really couldn’t take his eyes off the adorable scene, but also because he wanted to catch your attention. And when he did, he couldn’t help but feel shy and embarrassed when he saw you laugh at his flustered state. “Lix stop staring!” “Well! You’re giving that puppy more attention than to me! I’m your boyfriend!” He whined playfully. “Lix, have you seen these puppies, how could I possibly ignore them?” “I want to be like a puppy to you.” He teased, making you shake your head in disbelief of your ridiculously cute boyfriend.

Seungmin:

Your boyfriend, Seungmin, had a tight schedule today. And since you had a day off you decided to do something nice for him.

You cooked his favourite food, made sure that you had his favourite shows and movies ready to binge when he would come home from work. You brought him a small gift, knowing that he might be very exhausted and in need of something to cheer him up.

Seungmin in the meantime was longing to go home, filming the music video for their upcoming comeback was tiring and hard work, but to his surprise they finished earlier than he thought. The director was surprised as well at the scenes they shot perfectly at the first try, making the team feel proud of themselves and their hard work they always put into their craft.

Your boyfriend sighed in delight when he entered your apartment. He dropped his bag and took off his shoes as he called out your name. No responds. Instead, he heard music and singing come from the kitchen. He didn’t think too much of it, assuming that your playlist was playing.

But he was surprised to hear the notes coming from your mouth as you sung along perfectly, leaving your boyfriend stunned as he stared at you in awe. Sooner enough the two of you jumped in surprise as you let out a squeal, surprised to see your boyfriend stand there all of the sudden. “How long have you been there?” You asked in embarrassment as you hid your face in your hands. “Long enough to realise how much of a talented partner I have!” Seungmin chirped excitedly as he pressed kisses on your cheeks. “Staring isn’t nice you know.” “Hiding such talent also isn’t.” He teased, making your heart flutter once again, leaving him laughing.

Jeongin:

His hands were sweating and he was almost shaking in his chair as he peaked your way. The professor in front of the two of you was minding her own business as Jeongin’s mind drifted off.

He had been crushing on you ever since the two of you entered college together, which had been a year by now, yet Jeongin never had the courage to say anything other than ‘hi’ to you. Which was surprising since you were pretty much always seated right next to him.

He often wondered if you could hear his heart beat loudly for you, it felt like it could jump out of his chest any second. It was driving him mad, but not as much as the fact that he was just too much of a coward was still in the picture. Here you were as usual, looking beautiful as always. And he was still out her being a coward.

Something snapped in him when he realised that you wouldn’t be single forever. He stiffened and tried to find the courage to talk to you. He didn’t felt himself turn towards you and look at you directly. You didn’t notice at first, but out of the corner of your eye, you had to try your hardest to control the blush that wanted to rush to your cheeks as his eyes were fixated on your face.

You dared to turn to your long-time crush, making actual eye contact with him for maybe the third time in a whole year. “Are you okay?” You asked carefully in a whisper as you caught him staring. “P-please go out on a date with me!” He asked a little too loud as people shot their gazes towards the two, but Y/n didn’t care as her heart was racing as fast as his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Gifs aren’t mine.

Hope you like it!

[angelxsarahp]

You’re Mine

Diane Sherman

Request (Wattpad): Something sweet, creepy, and possessive w/ Diane

Warnings: A little angst (age gap insecurity and one very brief mention of abuse)

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: Idk if this is necessarily what the requester wanted, but I hope they still like it<3 (I didn't include smut bc I didn't know if the person that requested it would’ve wanted it😅) (Also Chloe doesn't exist in this universe)

Part 2 here

You met her in a grocery store.

The first time you laid your eyes on the darling auburn-haired woman was during your weekly grocery store run. You had accidentally bumped into her cart in the isle as you scanned over different products on the shelf, completely unaware that another person was strolling down the opposite way.

"Oh! Sorry ma'am..." you mumbled, looking at her for a split second before scurrying away, hoping that she couldn't see the flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. Unaware to you, though, Diane already had her eyes set on you, discreetly following you around the store, watching how you flowed so gracefully with your every movement. As soon as the bell on the door wrung notifying that someone had entered the store, that someone being you, she became almost entranced. She may or may not have accidentally bumped her cart with yours on purpose, but you never took notice of it. She wanted your attention, and she was going to get it, one way or the other.

   Long story short, when you paid for your items and left the store, Diane hot on your heels, she made small talk to you as you both placed groceries in your vehicles, her car conveniently parked beside of yours. You offered to help with her items as you only had a few things, she asked for your number, and the rest is history.

   You and Diane have been dating for two years, and it has been the most delightful two years you've ever experienced. Of course there were arguments and small bickering at times, but you both were happy, nonetheless. She asked you to move in with her after being together for a little over a year, so you agreed and have been living happily with your love ever since then.

You studied visual art at a college for the arts about thirty minutes away from Diane's house, and the college was hosting an exhibit to showcase student's artwork that evening. A few days prior, you had asked Diane if she would like to come with you, and she eagerly agreed.

    "Hey D, the college is holding an event to show some art this Friday...I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me?" You queried with a mocking formal tone,  a smile gracing your lips as you looked into her coffee brown eyes. Your girlfriend nodded with a small chuckle, not hesitating a single second to accept your invitation. "I would love to, sweetheart." She added, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of your face before she laid a soft peck to your lips.

    Diane was the one person that saw how hard you worked on your art. She admired your dedication and motivation to create something so new and authentic. But you were her piece of art. She would stand in the doorway for what seemed like hours, just simply watching you paint, sculpt, or draw away with those oh-so-delicate hands of yours. She would find you in the small homemade "studio" that the pair of you had put together when you first moved in, your hands and arms covered in paint, and even sometimes little smudges of color on your face. She loved how the tip of your tongue would sometimes poke out from between your teeth when you were extremely focused.

   You and Diane were enjoying lunch when you announced that you should probably start getting ready for the exhibit. You curled your hair slightly and did your usual makeup. One of your professors informed you that the event wasn't necessarily formal, so you didn't have to dress as such, but you still decided to dress up just a bit. You pulled out a tan patterned button-up shirt from your closet, pairing it with a black skirt, a black corset top, and black velvet platform boots.

Diane opted to go for a little formal as well, picking out a turtleneck (a staple in her closet) and added a white button-up over of it to add some layering. She paired it with tan slacks, a black suit jacket, and a pair of her brown suede boots. She wasn't too fond of skirts or dresses unless they were longer, so this was more in her comfort zone.

   She looked in the mirror, straightening the imaginary wrinkles in her outfit as she observed herself in the reflection. She looked at her face, attentively studying the small lines starting to form around her mouth and eyes as she brung her hand up to touch the delicate skin.

   How could I ever be enough for her? Why would she ever want to be with someone as old and worn down as me?

   Meanwhile, you were downstairs on the couch waiting for Diane, scrolling through your phone as the show on the TV provided background noise. You texted your friend Rose, that was also an art major, and started talking about how both of you were so excited but nervous for your first exhibit of the year. She said she was so excited to see you again after being apart so long since you decided to do school from online for the semester.

Despite learning new techniques from your professors through a laptop screen, your art had seemingly improved since last year. It felt good to stay in the comfort of Diane's home and having the ability to work at your own pace, excluding your art deadlines, of course.

A few minutes later, you heard the familiar clacking of your girlfriend's boots as she descended the stairs and called out for you. "Darling, are you ready?" She shouted, stopping in her tracks as she seen you getting up from the couch. She trailed her eyes over you almost predatorily as she observed your choice of outfit. You gave her a wicked smile and chuckled lowly at her actions as you sauntered over to her.

"Well, don't you look lovely, Miss Sherman" you complimented as you reached out to glide your fingertips across the lapels of her jacket. "I could say the same about you, my girl. You look divine." Diane replied, reaching out to rest her hands on the accentuated dip of your waist as a result of the corset top. She pulled you closer, pressing a long, delicate kiss against your lips. You pulled back to trail your eyes over her a second time. "We actually kinda match right now, it's perfect." You said, pointing between the two of you. She nodded and agreed with a chuckle. She grabbed your hand, asking if you were ready before grabbing her car keys and pulling you towards the front door.

Diane had already seen most of your paintings, but there was one you made sure she hadn't seen yet. You painted a piece that was dedicated to her, and you decided to submit it as one of your exhibit pieces. It was one of the main reasons why you wanted to invite her. You were so unbelievably nervous that she was going to hate it, but you wanted to do something special, just for her. She had done so much for you over the last two years, and you wanted, no, needed to express to her how much you loved and adored her.

The drive was mostly silent, a few short conversations here and there as Diane drove down the road that almost seemed endless. Diane wasn't oblivious, though. She knew you better than anyone else, and she definitely knew when you were nervous. She could tell by the nail-biting and leg bouncing that this event had got you wound up for some reason. She just brushed it off, hoping it was just the normal anxiousness due to other people observing your art.

Once Diane pulled up to the college and found a parking spot, you unbuckled your seatbelt and heaved out a sigh, closing your eyes to ground yourself. Diane snuck her hand over and intertwined it with yours, making you open your eyes and look over to the auburn-haired woman.

"Everything will be fine, my darling." Diane reassured, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to your cheek which caused your cheeks to turn a tinge of pink. You nodded, turning to pull the door handle and push it open. You raced over to Diane's side before she had a chance to get out by herself, so you placed your hand out for her to grasp as she got out.

   Opening the doors to the building, you were instantly met with a vast collection of paintings and sculptures that were all made by students. All the pieces looked so lively and diverse. You and Diane strolled around hand in hand, sparking conversation with other people about a certain piece or mumbling to each other about how you liked a certain piece. You came upon a few of your own, but hadn't yet gotten to the one that felt most important to you, though. As you started searching around you to see if you could spot it, two arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind. You looked over to Diane, knowing it couldn't be her because she was standing beside of you, so you pulled out of the person's embrace and turned around to see your friend Rose.

   "Rose!" You exclaimed, letting go of Diane's hand to hug the blonde-haired woman, swaying back and forth from the impact. Diane couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as you embraced the other girl so enthusiastically, an unamused look making its way onto Diane's face. She felt like snatching you up and pulling you back to her side, but she refrained from doing so to keep from embarrassing you and her both. She stood back while you let go of your friend. Finally, Diane thought.

"Diane, you've met Rose before." You said, motioning your hand to Rose as you looked at your girlfriend. All Diane did was nod, mumbling a 'nice to see you again' as she tentatively shook Rose's hand. Even though Diane hid her emotions very well sometimes, you looked right through her, instantly knowing something was bothering her by her facial expressions, but you didn't want to bring it up right now. The three of you walked around for a few more minutes, Diane’s arm planted firmly around your waist. You smirked at the gesture, knowing how possessive she could be when she was jealous. Diane couldn't help but notice the way Rose sometimes stopped to pick a stray piece of hair off of your clothes or the way she grabbed your arm when you said something that made her laugh. She wanted to keep you as close to her as she possibly could.

Diane was becoming increasingly insecure, being reminded of all those thoughts that came around from time to time about how you could have someone so much more...lively than her; younger and more beautiful than she could ever be. Tears almost pricked at the corner of her eyes at the mere thought of losing you, but she held back the tears that threatened to fall...for you. She didn't want to spoil this night for you.

Rose had left the two of you and went to talk to a few critics. You and Diane pretty much cleared the whole exhibit, except for the last of your pieces, which you had been purposefully avoiding so you could save it for last. Out of all the art you submitted, the piece you were about to show her took the longest. You made sure to make it as perfect as possible. You grabbed a hold of your girlfriend's hand, pulling her close enough so you could whisper in her ear.

"I have one more thing to show you" you whispered, ghosting your lips from her ear over to her cheek to give her a small kiss there. She shivered at the feeling of your mouth. Her skin underneath your lips turned a small tinge of red before she narrowed her eyes at you, wondering what you had in store for her.

You covered her eyes with your hands as you got closer to the corner of the building you two hadn't been to yet. She lifted her hands to lightly grip your wrists as the pushed her further down the hallways. "Really y/n...what amazing thing do you have to show me that you have to cover my eyes for?" Diane chuckled half-heartedly, still feeling in an insecure and jealous mood from earlier.

"Because I want to get your initial reaction when you see it...Okay, okay, you can open you eyes now, darling." You quickly sped in front of her and whipped around with your arms open wide to present her the piece you were standing in front of. Diane stood there in complete awe, looking up to the giant painting of herself. Her mouth dropped open, tears sprinting to her eyes as she observed the immaculate detail of the artwork in front of her. The painting was probably taller than her if it were to sit level with the floor. She recognized that your reference picture for the painting was from a photo you had taken of her from a few weeks ago. She was smiling so bright because she had started laughing at something dumb you said right before you snapped the photo.

   "Y/n..." she muttered, looking over to you with tears streaming down her sculpted face. You thought for a second that she hated it, but the second after that she launched in your arms and gave a bone-crushing hug. She pulled back and held your face with her hands, she leaned forward, locking her lips firmly with yours, all of her love and affection flowing into you.

    "This must've taken you hours, honey. How did you hide it so well?" She queried as she pulled back and sniffled while she looked into your shining e/c orbs.

   "Well when I said that I was gonna drive to the studio at the college to finish up some things...I was working on this." You replied, pointing to the painting. "I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you, Diane. You’ve treated me so well in these last couple of years, and...I love you more than words can describe...so I decided to express it by painting this..." you paused a moment, looking to Diane with an equally endearing look that was just as intense. "You're my piece of art, Diane, the beautiful artwork I can look at forever and ever and never get tired of it, and don't you ever forget that." You said, coming closer to her and pointing in the middle of her chest.

   Not long after the heartfelt moment, you both decided to go home. Most of the drive was silent as you both bobbed your heads to the old rock/alternative music on the radio. The sun was setting fast, displaying various hues of orange, pink, and yellow as you traveled back down the lonely road. You wanted to bring up why she started acting a little weird at the event, but you opted to ask her once you got home.

   Diane parked the car in the driveway, leaning back in her seat for a moment before she twisted her head to the side to look at you. She smiled lovingly at you as you turned your head to look at her, too. God, She's so in love with you. All of her past relationships and the relationship with her mother was so toxic and abusive. She had been single for several years before she met you because of the trauma from her past, but then you came along and pretty much swooped in like her saving grace when you walked into that grocery store.

   You two walked inside, dropping down bags and shoes at the front door and sighing before you turned to each other and started giggling.

    "Thank you for coming with me" you said as you draped your arms over her shoulders, hers coming to wrap around your waist. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, my girl." And god, how you loved the term of endearment — the subtle reminder that you were hers made your head spin.

   But then you remembered you needed to talk to her about her mood earlier. You sighed heavily as you took her hands and led her to the couch. She became confused as you sat down beside her, knees touching as you both sat at an angle.

   "I didn't want to bring it up earlier, but I noticed your change in mood after Rose showed up...was somebody jealous?" you said, bringing her knuckles up to your mouth and pressing a soft kiss to the pale skin as a smirk displayed on your features. She gazed at you with narrowed eyes. "What? No...maybe...I don't know." She shrugged and shook her head, giving up on a coherent answer as she pulled her hand away from your grasp. You leaned more towards her, almost settling in her lap. "You know i'm yours, Diane. I only have eyes for you, Miss Sherman." You replied with a teasing smirk as you laid a kiss on her jawline. She moved her hands to settle on your hips. "That's right, darling, you're mine...my girl." She whispered into your ear as she pulled you closer by the hips, feeling her hot breath against the shell of your ear. She nipped the flesh there lightly. You let out a few soft groans as she leaned back against the couch with the most wicked smirk on her full lips.

  "But in all seriousness, my love, please tell me what's wrong. I know somethings up in that head of yours." You reach up to brush your fingers through her long silky hair.

  Diane hesitated for a second as she shuffled around in her spot. She hadn't necessarily talked to you about how she got insecure sometimes about her age and how you were so much younger and more attractive than her. She brought it up jokingly at times about how she was "old", but you always made sure to reassure her, even if it was just a joke, because deep down you knew her and how she got sometimes when she fell into that spiral of deprecating thoughts. But other than that, you two hadn't really talked about it any further.

   Diane sighed deeply before speaking. "I just don't feel like I'm enough for you..." she started, trailing her eyes up to see the saddened expression that instantly broke out on your face. "I'm so much older and less attractive and boring and you're so...so beautiful and vibrant and young. I just don't see how you could be in love with me. You could have anybody out there...someone like...like Rose. Even her name sounds pretty. I'm just Diane." She spilled out, a single tear falling down her face as she finished. You reached out to wipe it away before you cupped her face in your hands and looked at her silently for a moment. You leaned in and kissed her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks, and then lastly placed a long kiss on her soft plump lips.

   You pulled back to admire her once more, taking in every single little detail of her face with an intensely endearing look in your bright eyes, absentmindedly stroking her lips with your thumb.

    "You are absolutely more than enough for me, darling. If anything, I don't understand sometimes why you would want to be with someone as young and dumb and as naive as me." You paused, chuckling to yourself and thinking about all the times you’ve neglected to use common sense or make dumb little mistakes in the presence of Diane. "And you are not any of those terms that you just used to describe yourself. You are beautiful and lively and fun and deserving of all the good things in life. And you are not old. You may be significantly older than me, but that doesn’t alter my love for you in any way. Like I said earlier today, you are my piece of art, and I intend to keep it that way. I want you, and only you. And I will keep saying it all day every day until you get that through your thick skull." You concluded as you smiled at her and pointed your finger in the middle of her chest to show that you meant it.

   Diane had more tears flowing down her cheeks by the end of your little speech, thankfully from happiness this time. She pulled you back down to her and hugged you so tight you thought you were going to split in two. You let out a strangled 'oof' as she finally let you go and gave a few long kisses to your lips.

   It continued for a few more minutes, both of you basking in the warmth radiating off the other as you sat in her lap, sets of hands roaming the other's body.

   You climbed off of her and pushed her down into the soft cushions of the couch. "Now, Miss Sherman, let me prove to you how beautiful you are."

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this🥺 would y'all maybe like a part 2 where it picks up right where the ending left off...with smut (of course)👀

[airplanned]

Ned Talks About Describing Things

Okay, so.  Descriptions are boring.  So the question is, how do I make sure my reader follows this while not boring them so much that they close the window?

Over simplification: if your reader knows what a thing looks like, you don't need to describe it.  A convenience store.  A high school.  A grocery store.  A boring office.  I know what those look like.  You know what those look like.  If you explain how there are three rows of shelves at the connivence store, one with candy, one with snacks, one with cleaning products, I will slap you.  Now, this doesn't mean that you can't sprinkle some details in there.  That adds some color.  Saying that she was staring at the three varieties of sunflower seeds without making a decision, can tell me a lot about the character's feelings right then, and is also kind of funny.  Saying "she opened her locker, which was the color of a dying houseplant" does the same thing.  But the thing is that these are lines dropped into the action of the scene, and what we really want to talk about is when to devote a whole paragraph to description.

I can think of three reasons you would need a block of description: 1. You need to know this to follow the story, 2. it will explain a character better, and  3. it's cool and your reader will enjoy hearing about it.

1. You need to know this.   Do I need to know what the convenience store looks like, or is it fine if I have my own version in my head even if it's not exactly what you the writer have in your head?  You have to give up some control and let your reader live their life.  There is no way you will ever make the scene in your reader's head exactly the way it is in your head.  Just get over that now and let your reader imagine the bathroom.

But let's say there is a setting with a very large, perilous cliff off to the side, and later a major character is going to fall off that cliff.  By all means, describe that cliff to me.  I want to know the stakes if someone falls (sharp rocks at the bottom, how the wind screams and pulls at you, how you can't even see it until you're right there.)  This instantly makes me worry that someone's going to fall off that cliff. Let's say they're at the connivence store, but the lights are red.  That's weird!  That goes against my expectations, and I need to know that because it's probably important. 

But now, if you're only describing plot relevant things, the reader will pick up on it and whatever you describe will become Chekov's gun.  If the only thing you lovingly describe is a cliff, I'll bet you $10 someone's going over that cliff.  I once beta'ed a novel for a friend where he went into extensive detail about a seaplane.  I knew that seaplane better than I knew the main character.  I was so excited for a seaplane chase!  Guess what.  That plane was never seen again, and I was ticked.

The cool thing abut fanfic is that all your readers know what all the locations and the characters look like!  Unless you're doing an AU or something, this is one of the main things that fanfic scaffolds for, and you don't need to describe all that much.

2. It will explain a character better.  If a character is neat and tidily dressed with perfectly applied makeup, that tells me something about them.  If they have three nose rings and a motorcycle helmet tucked under their arm, that tells me something.  If their room has a Backstreet Boys poster, that tells me something.  Remember that bathroom you let someone imagine earlier?  Well, what if it's a VERY FANCY bathroom and our main character was already feeling out of place in this rich person's house, so they hide in the bathroom, but!  Even this bathroom is alienating!  There's marble and some sort of water feature and little mints in a basket and a bidet!  Ack!  Yes!  Tell me about the bathroom.

Describing a character is something that probably needs to happen, and needs to happen up front (if you're not writing fic).  Because if I find out a character has glasses half way through the book, and I had not been picturing them with glasses, I will reject that description and continue to pretend they don't have glasses and be a little bitter.  It can be a chore, but you can make the description interesting or funny in a way that strikes your reader enough to stick with them and give them as sense of the character without going through the laundry list of hair color and eye color and height and blah blah blah.  (Lev Grossman with the Magicians series does a lot of things I don't care for, but his descriptions of characters are like well aimed knives and worth picking apart).

3. It's cool.  So let's say we get to a thing that is just WILD.  You've been imagining it for months.  You doodle pictures of it.  No one has done this before and you are so excited to write about it.  This thing has a sense of wonder about it.  Here, that wonder is a driving force that pulls your reader forward. If I'm interested, then you're not slowing anything down by telling me about it. If you are showing me a cool thing, then YES, SHOW ME THE COOL THING.  Tell me more!  

I have a friend who writes Sci-fi, and she's always worried that she's boring her readers with her descriptions of the absolutely bananas rainforest on this moon and the weird-assed weapons people carry around to walk through the jungle and how the telepaths can communicate with the creatures of the jungle, and I always send her stuff back with big old circles that say WHOA!  MORE OF THIS!  This is actually a pretty big trope in sci-fi.  There's a book called "2312," which is just a tour of the solar system that has been terraformed, and there's not a whole lot of plot, but that's okay, because I get these log descriptions about this city on a track on Mercury, and it's great.