#and like yeah it was fun to watch but suffering doesn’t translate to being a better person

[spicyicymeloncat]

Yeah all of the above.

Like i am not really a skybound hater but i can very much understand why people don’t like it, bc it handles a lot of topics rather poorly.

Just Jay still seeing Nya as just “girlfriend <3” by the end. The scene where she’s in this one creep’s late wife’s wedding dress and hates it hut Jay doesn’t even think about how she feels about it and is just simping for how she looks when he sees her is… not reflective of the kind of character growth and moral teaching we’d want from a season like this.

I love that they touch upon the issues of sexism in this season but they don’t commit. I agree with the poster above, no one changes.

Additionally while I think Nadakhan is a really cool villain, the level of inappropriate-ness that is him trying to marry Nya is pretty uncouth for ninjago. It feels like a really dark situation that isn’t treated with the appropriate seriousness. Like ofc its not portrayed as good, but it has such a different tone compared to your run of a mill bad guy plot. And the issue is that ninjago’s target audience won’t ever know how seriously fucked up a breach of consent like that is because ninjago is really bad at portraying healthy relationships anyways, so even if we know its not good, the kids don’t understand the extent of it. Just because uncomfortable things happen in real life doesn’t mean its appropriate in a kids show, especially when kid show doesn’t realise how uncomfortable those things really are. Again, its super weird how Nya gets married to an older man in his dead wife’s dress against her will, but all our main character is thinking about is how hot Nya is in the dress and how he’s more jealous of Nadakhan than horrified at what Nadakhan is doing. It’s uncomfortable but more than that, the show pretends its not uncomfortable.

Additionally there’s the whole vilification of certain cultures and stereotypes, which again is present throughout ninjago but it makes s6 pretty poor taste.

Question

Does anyone have a genuine reason on why they hate skybound? Everything I've seen is just 'oh it's uncomfortable' (even tho things that happen in skybound are very much real) or the airjitzu temple being there. I've never really gotten a real, legit reason on why it's bad and i'm curious cuz it's one of my all time favourites.

[lvlyhao]

『when he's on tour / MARK LEE』

A/N: thoughts on how mark would be as bf when he's away on tour :(

gifs used in this are not mine and they will be removed if requested!!

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡), comedy (☼)

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i swear a bit maybe???

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © lvlyhao 2023.

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mark is usually pretty clingy with you already, but he turns it up to the max before a tour

being away from you like that is one of the parts about his job he hates the most, and yeah, he knew what he was signing up for since the beginning

but he can’t help but be heartbroken about it every. single. time

the other members know him well enough to give like a 2 weeks notice for him to get his shit together and spend as much time with you as humanly possible??

cus otherwise, he’ll get caught up in rehearsals, schedules and whatever else and then the day before they leave be like

“oh shit”

and if that’s the case we all know mark is gonna be miserable during the whole thing right lmao

yeah mom taeyong isn’t letting that happen

(again)

mark normally sees the time before a tour as an opportunity to check off a LOT of things from your couples bucket list

like, do you have any tv shows you’ve been meaning to watch together? you’re binging it today

you wanted to visit that coffee shop right? get your coat, you’re going rn

you wanted to buy matching bracelets yeah? he’s already got them

and it’s just a very fun, loving time for the both of you

it keeps you busy enough not to spiral about what it’s gonna be like not seeing each other for months

:)

of course, it doesn’t work 100% of the time

especially at night, when mark’s about to fall asleep, the loneliness of not having you around starts to seep in

and it’s like he says goodbye to you in his head before it happens irl

which is 1. sad as heck??? and 2. kinda suffering through it twice, cus he always thinks he’s gonna be more “well prepared” for it this time, and that’s never true

by now it’s probably pretty obvious touring is a very dramatic experience for him right lmao

johnny’s always like “bro it’s just a couple months you’re gonna be f i n e” but for mark it’s,,, not that simple

he’d rather say bye when it’s just the two of you, maybe at your place or somewhere nice

it feels a lot calmer when it’s like that, cus then it’s tight hugs, some kisses and mark saying he promises he’ll text you every day and call you as much as he can

and yeah maybe one of you lets a tear or two fall down but it’s fine

now

if you go with them to the airport

it’s gonna be so much more chaotic like holy crap, trust me, not going is the better option

if for some unknown reason you’re like “no i’ll go with you to catch the plane and we’ll say bye there”

there’s gonna be a lot more crying involved

cus it’s one thing hugging you bye when his flight’s in 6 hours or so, but it’s a whole other thing when everyone’s already boarding and some other member is trying very hard to be gentle but he has to go NOW

it’s all so rushed he can barely even tell you he loves you :(

mainly bc he wanted to keep hugging you until he absolutely had to let you go

oh well

mark is 10000% the type to ask you to put together a playlist for him to listen to during the trip

he can be a bit of an airhead at times but he does his best to keep you updated on how he’s doing, where he is right now, things of the sort

so he tries to text you the moment the plane lands, when they get to the hotel, when he’s eaten

and it’s not even just texts

it’s a cute candid selfie AND a text

now

mark is definitely not the best photographer in nct

but he will try so hard to take good pictures for you

cus all he wants is for you to feel like you’re there with him, seeing all those cool places

having said that, most pictures do turn out to be crappy

but he’s willing to ask for help from another member so it’s all good lmao

(i’m looking at johnny, jaemin or tyong tbh)

sends you a picture of every single dog or cat he sees

absolutely every single one

keeps a clock in your timezone in his phone so he knows the best times to text/call

speaking of calling

i’m sorry to tell you you’re not getting a one on one facetime session with him

it’s just not happening

like it may last 5 minutes tops, but that’s the time it takes for someone to hear your voice/barge into his room and immediately ask to talk to you

haechan, johnny, yukhei and baek do that a lot

but normally the other members follow lmao

it’s 50% to annoy him but 50% bc they genuinely wanna see you

it doesn’t bother you too much cus you know

they’re cute or whatever

he’s not really the type to get small trinkets from every place he goes to bc that’s just ??so much??

instead, he’ll probably get you one really nice gift

like this huge plushie he had to carry around himself on their way back home bc no one had enough space in their bags for it

or a new perfume he thinks you’ll like

i love him your honour

one last thing bc this is already way too long

mark is the KING of backstage pictures and TMI's about the other members

like at this point you have enough blackmail material to torture them for 6 months minimum

and tbh it’s mainly haechan when he’s with dream/127 and jongin with superm lol

but he keeps it varied

you end up with even some derpy jaehyun pics, best case scenario

he’s already making plans on how you are gonna celebrate him being back home

…and it most likely includes building a pillow fort and watching marvel movies but i didn’t tell you that

[nerdyenby]

Lime time :D I’m watching Sniff

Their setup is suffering lmao

The extended discussion of if this team is family friendly or not and then Ollie’s “Okay FUCK” 😂😂😂

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to shoot people because I’m bad at the game” Sniff my beloved!!

Guqqie’s excitement over there not being fall damage is so real

Sniff kinda popping off!!!!

This team is so silly goofy, this is gonna be such a fun time :))

Sniff muting to gush about how nice their team is <333

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real fast” “Go piss, girl” SNIFF /pos

She said that to Purpled lmao 😂😂😂

Ollie being offended at the implication that he doesn’t sound Spanish enough

“I will be deafening during ace race to sing the I’m Just Ken song” “That’s fine” “Yeah, for sure” “That’s so fair, that’s just morally correct” Guqqie BASED

Rocket Spleef

THEYRE SO PREPARED!!!!!

Purpled is such a tryhard, I love him

“Not the puzzle pieces […] If I do bad in this game, I’m calling up Autism Speaks and I’m having a word with them, I’m just saying” that’s my audhd icon!!

“I’ve never been drunk before” and I believe him because Purpled Bedwars would never lie

Ableist map!!!! /j

“I love how we all look like little flies hanging out” Sniff Snifferish is only correct all the time

On the fence, what a legend!!!!!!

Purpled is too powerful you guys

Hole in the Wall

This isn’t a great game for them rip, at least it’s out of the way tho

Sniff and Guqqie <333

Everyone getting their chance to pop off my beloved

Sniff’s Purpled appreciation speech :(( them <3

Skybattle

“We don’t want people, we don’t like people” so true Purpled

SNIFF SNIFFERISHHHHHHH!!!!!! my streamer won skybattle

*Ollie instantly dies, is still screaming* “It’s okay, we move on” this team is everything to me, their energy is so

Ok but Guqqie managing a team kill in skybattle is so iconic of them

Yellow is a strong team, Ollie is one of the only players expressing a healthy fear of their raw power and I love him for that

Meltdown

Purpled and Guqqie being so excited about the new routes my beloved <333

They’re killing it!!!!

Purpled is such a good igl I will not shut up about it

#1 pink supporters fr :))

That fight against red was so uncomfortably close quarters lol, they did great tho

Sniff sacrificing herself to save Purpled, team player of all time <33

Guqqie and Sniff digging into Purpled for calling them “chat” my beloved

Battle Box

They did that!!!!

They popped off!!!! Absolutely destroyed!!!!!

Ace Race

The mega chicken’s betrayal was brutal

“I’m just Ken” 😭😭😭

NOOOOOOOOOOO SNIFFFFFFFF ;-;

Xeir recovery though!!!!! He’s making back that time!!

Grid Runners

“I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m barking orders” “You can bark, you can bark” “Yeah, you can meow if you’re up for it” this team 😂

Purpled losing his mind at that one pig is so valid but it’s also very funny to me

They’re on a roll!!!! Golf and dunk tank were clean

Purpled is confident with redstone, didn’t know that lol

Sands of Time

Excited about this strat :))

Guqqie do not apologize omg /aff

They’re so low on time, it’s stressing me out

Love them appreciating how much yellow popped off, they did incredible and it might be the biggest lead in season 3 (am definitely going to look into that now whoops)

Dodgebolt

“I love my girlfriend!!” “Really? No way, I never would’ve guessed” sapphic on sapphic violence lmao

Purpled asking if Walli can join the call lmao

You could tell me Purpled and Walli were boyfriends and I would believe you tbh, only inkling of hesitation is Purpled’s intentional token straight energy

Sniff popping off!!!! You owe corporations nothing and transphobes can fuck off

Purpled’s sympathy for Fruit’s plight my beloved

Them manually translating, language barriers lose!!!!

“I have adhd, I’m off my meds, please forgive me” SAME, WHERES MY FREAKING ADDERALL REFILL @mypsychiatrist

Great team, great times, great vibes :))

[whyitdoesntworkforme]

Clone Wars Fic Tropes that drive me crazy

I want to start this off by saying that if you write/read fics with these tropes this is no disparagement against you. I live very much by the live and let fic/live and let ship philosophy. And most of these tropes I get why they are popular. And fanfiction is a great way to put fantasies and fun scenarios down on paper, whether they make sense or not. Most of these I probably wouldn’t have a problem with if I didn’t see them so often because they are VERY prolific tropes. You know when you watching something or notice something in movies/TV/comics and you don’t really think it’s good but it doesn’t really bother you … then you see it over and over and over again and that’s when it starts to really bug you? Well that’s me with most of these fic tropes. I have my reasons for not liking them but they are not really big problems with the fics (or even the writing) itself sometimes. More that, the more I see it the more my brain thinks about it, the more problems I have with it.

So yeah, I’m really only writing this because it’s Saturday and I can’t go anywhere because I dislocated my toe and writer’s block has struck at just the wrong time. So here we go:

 The Medic Tropes

The Beleaguered/Long suffering Medic: Like I said in my intro there isn’t really any problem with this as character concept but it is just EVER SINGLE MEDIC CHARACTER that has ever been written in every clone wars fic I have ever read. Anyone who knows of a fic that writes medics as anything other than utterly competent doctors who have to deal with people not wanting their care (we’ll get to that), please comment. The medics deserve more depth.

The Medics Outrank Everyone/Disrespect: This unlike the last one is not in every fic with a medic in it but it’s quite prolific and it also ties into another trope I’ll talk about in the next section about protocol. I often see medics not addressing commanding officers with the proper respect. People take the medics outranking their superiors when it comes to the health of the men and kind of use it as an excuse for the medics to speak to said superiors with disrespect like I’ve never seen. This ties into the next point as well about people avoiding medical care. Just because they have final say in this one specific area doesn’t mean that they outrank their officers and that they wouldn’t be court martialed (and rightly so) for speaking to them that way. The worst I saw was a fic where Cody wants to get out of bed, he’s recovering but stable, there is no escalation, no serious danger to life or health and the medic literally shouts at his COMMANDING OFFICER that he will bench him if he hears one word. WTF? Take the scene for the Clone Wars episode ‘The Deserter’, Rex is seriously injured, wants to keep going and look at how medic Kix deals with it, he says, “Sir, as the team medic, when it comes to the health of the men — including you — I outrank everyone. So I respectfully order you, sir, to get some rest.” He speaks calmly, measuredly, respectfully. How does this very simple caveat to the chain of command translate to the medic being in charge of everyone, being able to speak to whomever they want however they want, and everyone being scared of them?

No-one seeks medical attention unless forced to: Again, I get why this is a trope, it is the selfless, pure hearted, yet strong person who ‘doesn’t want to bother anyone’ or ‘take up resources’ or ‘doesn’t have time to be sick’. That works for things like a cold, or a headache but I have read a fics where … specifically Obi-wan Kenobi has a gaping gash in his head and he tries to avoid the medic (this was not a crack fic). At first I found this trope funny, as that Monty Python skit where a knight with no arms says, ‘tis but a flesh wound’ comes into my mind. But when you see in practically every Clone Wars fic where someone gets an injury (and it’s war so naturally it happens a lot), the more stupid it starts to look. These are highly intelligent, practical people most of the time. Especially for the superior officers, not seeking medical attention is actually pretty selfish and self-indulgent in their position. As I said, ignoring a cold or a headache is the sign of someone who wants to power through or someone who is under a lot of pressure. Someone who just came out of a deadly mission with multiple injuries ‘not wanting to bother the medic’ is not strong or selfless, they are a blithering idiot. (Hello Kenobi who comes fresh out of Zyggeria in most fics portraying it with near fresh whip marks on his back and says, “Yeah, no need to bother the medic, let me meditate this away”). The writers know that seeking medical attention is the right thing to do but the denial of it is almost always portrayed as something almost heroic that is supposed to be met by the audience with a fond eye-roll. I certainly eye-roll.

 Clone Relationships/Interactions

The things that come up here didn’t get on my nerves until I started understanding soldiers more. Soldiers have a very, very unique bond that is hard to explain because it’s forged in very unique circumstances. Most of us know we would die for the people we love but we are rarely put in a position where that is a decision we will have to make. Not only that but we will never have to contend with the fact that a person may die in front of us and we (for the moment) will just have to ignore it and keep going. How do you reconcile dying for the people standing beside you while also accepting that you can’t indulge in mourning them when they die for you? This naturally will create a unique yet powerful, if difficult to understand bond with very unique ways of interacting with your peers. This bond is rarely portrayed in fics. It’s kind of sad that these unique relationships aren’t at least attempted in fics, especially since the Clone Wars resonated so much with soldiers and soldiers families in its portrayal of the clone. So most of the following tropes are connected to that feeling.

The Clones are Brothers as in Siblings more than Brothers as in Brothers-in-arms: As I said, the clone wars resonated so well with soldiers and their families and that came from how well the clones and how they interacted with each other were portrayed. In fics they seem to interact the way normal siblings would interact in a familial setting. Without repeating the intro to this section I’ll just say that siblings and brothers/sisters-in-arms do not interact the same. Yes, the clones are genetically made from the same person but the way they were raised and told what their purpose was, the way they were taught that being a soldier was what they were, why they were made, and what their purpose was means the normal sibling bond you or I would know would not be there. The brothers-in-arms bond would. This only bothers me because it feeling (just to me mind you) that the soldier bond that was portrayed so perfectly and resonated so well with people is kind of relegated in favour, we’re all one big family unit that all happen to be soldiers. Rather than soldiers whose family was forged in training and battle. This trope comes in several forms including but not limited to:

·         Talking to superior officers in a manner and at times that fly completely in the face of protocol (which we know the clones take very seriously).

·         Random clones using Cody or Rex’s name without their ranks (personal relationships and exposure to the person coupled with the type of conversation, would warrant dropping a title)

·         Clones sleeping in a pile

·         The use of the word Sibling in place of the word Brother (brother (and sister) have connotations of comradeship in addition to familial whereas a sibling cannot be anything but a family member. And the clones weren’t raised as Siblings they were raised as comrades.)

·         Clones hugging and kissing each other casually, and sometimes extensively (this one is more the familial portrayal of the interaction rather than the action itself).

·         Saying I love you (again more the familial/casual portrayal, even if a part of me doesn’t see many circumstances in which that would have to be said between clones)

·         On visits to Kamino, little clones bounding up to visiting Commanders and Captains like excited, normally raised children. (2)

So yeah, the bond between soldiers may outwardly seem distant to most people especially those of us who grew up with all the hugs and kisses we could ever need. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t deep, or meaningful or can’t be portrayed well without just throwing in overly tactile, sometimes cloying interactions that don’t happen among soldiers, tend not to happen among men in general, and definitely would not be natural for soldiers raised the way the clones were.

And lastly, I think there is a lot of lost beauty in thinking of the clones as this way. Military training is designed to break you down so you can be forged into something else. And it does do that. The clones all being the same on the surface but different deep down is what being a soldier is. Being out in the battlefield you are one unit, you were forged together on that training field and you have a shared fate to step onto a battlefield and maybe die but underneath it all that, a spark of what makes you, ‘you’ is still there. The whole siblings angle kind of dilutes, if not erases all that nuance of what it means to be not only A soldier but SOLDIERS.

 Jedi and Clone Interactions

Fanfiction tends to gloss over a lot of unpleasantries because they are uncomfortable and the relationship between the Jedi and the clone is very, very complex. Most Jedi respect and some even love their men (the main ones do anyway) but not only are they they’re commanding officers but also in a sense, their owners. The republic owns the clones and the Jedi are part of the republic. I see it portrayed like the Jedi are just like the clones, they have no choice but there is a difference between having to serve a system you don’t take part in (much less one who bought you) and being against something a system you take part in does but doing it anyway. The, they were just following orders argument is a historically uncomfortable one so I don’t know why it keeps being used. The Clones are slaves (chipped like chattle), the Jedi are not. So this fandom portrayal is kind of icky. At best it glosses over it, at worst it excuses it or outright denies it.

There are loads of examples but one that made me stop reading a fic I was enjoying was one where Obi-wan goes to Kamino to ask about potentially force sensitive clones has a conversation with Shaak-Ti that includes little clones running to her bedroom, sitting on her lap and confessing nightmares to her about killing Jedi.  

Contradiction or softening of Jedi actions: Let’s take the Shaak-Ti example. This is the woman who when presented with an either physically or mentally ill clone who out of nowhere killed a Jedi for no reason and is told that they should ‘terminate the clone’ her reply is, “I believe this solution is ill-advised” … ill-advised? This sounds exactly like the kind of woman whom baby clones would confess violent nightmares to. And taking into consideration her actions during the Fives arc and her having nothing to say when the discovery of the army’s origin, exactly the kind of woman who would handle it well.

The clones are just there to protect the Jedi: That is what the clones believe that again it disturbs me a bit that, that is what the writers seems to only see them as good for too. A fic example is one where the clones find the chips and free themselves but the first thing they do is ‘free’ the poor enslaved Jedi like they aren’t a powerful religious order that is part of the republic and running this whole war, bought them and used them in the first place. No, forget that these soldier were chipped like animals, forget their whole lives have been one example of inhumanity after another, forget that brother after brother has died for nothing, it’s the Jedi that deserve the saving and the sympathy.

I want to put a comment in here to say that this is not a Jedi hate train (though full disclosure I’m not pro-jedi) but why are THEY the ones who get the head pats and the ‘poor you, you’ve been through so much’ treatment when there are far more worthy candidates like the child soldiers they’ve been commanding? Much less said child soldiers being not much more than a tool to bring relief to their Jedi commanders. That is what they were created to do so it makes sense that they would do that. What doesn’t make sense is why that seems to be what most fic writers see as a happy result for freed clones. Once again, it’s not just that it’s disturbing but it takes a complicated relationship that would be difficult for characters to navigate and makes it simple by hand-waving the bad stuff. So yeah, many writers don’t seem to know what to do with the clones as their own people. This tends to be a thing in fanfiction in general, one side is the hurt and the comforted and the other side is the comforter. This is something I’ll be complaining about in the Codywan section.

The Hand of the Author: The relationships between the clones and the jedi are often very … I don’t know how to put this … easy? And I don’t mean individual clones and individual Jedi like Obi-wan and Cody or Anakin and Rex, I mean THE Clones and THE Jedi. The clones respect the Jedi as warriors and commanders, even admire them but that often translates in fanfic to every clone knowing every Jedi is a good person who whom they should trust. If we go back to the Shaak-Ti example clones were raised in an environment where disobedience or deviation got you a one way ticket to lab table, Shaak-Ti shows up and is polite and nice and now … I instantly trust her and know she’ll have my best interests at heart even though I’m a soldier and therefore know that the needs of the war far outweigh any needs I have and any commander as far as I know would get rid of the weak link to protect the chain. Her just being nice, the Jedi being nice to the clones is not enough to get that level of trust from any reasonable person let alone people who have been incentivized to never trust any but their brothers. And even when it comes to individual clone Jedi interactions, it goes from fear to trust in nothing flat. And trust is not something that comes as a whole. Clones, and people in general are far more like to gradually offer trust with some things then over time more trust is given. I named this one the hand of the author because WE know that Jedi characters are kind people but it’s just like magically all the clones know that. An example of this is the Slick storyline. I see a lot of arguments that ‘Slick could have gone to the Jedi’ as is a sergeant would have any reason at ALL to talk to a general without going up the chain of command let alone a literal slave who, as far as he’s concerned would be going to his owners and saying, ‘hey I’m a slave, could you maybe do something about that?’ Slick doesn’t know Obi-wan or Anakin like Cody or Rex do (and not even Rex confides his growing concerns about his brother’s circumstances that we see and if he did Anakin didn’t do anything) and I’m not so convinced that they would have done anything if Slick had gone to them considering the looks of derision and dismissal they give a man telling them he is their slave. Do they consider it? Nope? So I say hand of the author, maybe more wish of the author. (Fic Rec 2)

 Jedi Relationships

Jedi are family: Believe it or not this is actually in a weird way defending the Jedi a little bit because the reason the Jedi cite for taking kids from their families so they can be raised absent attachments and outside influences is because ‘attachments lead to the dark side’ and family is the first and one of the most powerful attachments anyone can have so have to server that bond in its infancy and teach them to avoid attachment. Portraying the Jedi as family (especially in the fandom way where families look like normal, everyday, earth families) is kinds of worse than portraying the clones as one because at least the clones aren’t damaged by it. It is an uncomfortable prospect that our heros are raising their children without getting attachments or allowing them to form when every healthy adult knows that, that is incredible, sometimes cripplingly damaging (the main reason I’m not pro-jedi). So writers like to portray Jedi lineages as functioning like normal families. But if the Jedi REALLY did raise their children in this healthy way … why did they take the kids away from their families to begin with? This actually makes the Jedi look worse because now they have no reason for removing wanted children from loving homes. I think most people who try to defend this are young and not yet parents because if someone came into my house … I’m not even going to finish that thought. And no, parental consent doesn’t make it okay because they parents aren’t the one you are committing the greatest wrong against, the child is. You’ve not just taken a child from a family, you’ve taken a family from a child.

There are ways to try and soften the Jedi in fics but having padawans with the same master introduce each other as ‘my brother’ is not it. Once again this is not just a pro-jedi vs anti-jedi thing. If that were the case it wouldn’t be on this list, it’s once again throwing away all the nuance surrounding these relationships and how they function. It’s another case of removing the bad to make it sanitized and simple.

Jedi Romances: This is much the same as the other one and it comes down to the argument that ‘you’ve misunderstood, jedi are allowed to love’. Yes, Jedi are allowed to love but they are not allowed to form romantic relationships because romantic relationships are attachments and if you are not attached to your romantic partner (not sexual partner, romantic partner) it’s probably time to consider if it’s not working out. There is also the argument that love is not attachment. So if the Jedi can have romantic, loving relationships then why can’t they get married? The piece of paper is a symbol of that bond rather than the cause of it. Kiadi Mundi is permitted to have many wives because his species has a low male birth count but he loves none of them. These supposed non-attached romantic relationships in fics look identical to the relationships that literally everyone else has. You can’t just write a normal relationship say it’s different and it becomes so. I’ve seen several fics where it’s straight-up portrayed that Anakin just ‘misunderstood’ the code all these years. Yeah, the guy who was raised in this creed since he was nine, being an attached and emotional person probably had it drilled into him multiple times to make sure he really got it, just mistakenly got in into his head that he had to hide his relationship and is flabbergasted when the council is totally cool with Obi-wan dating Cody … Like they totally would be.

Note: You can be Pro-Jedi without jumping through hoops to basically make them just like everybody else with relationships that are just like everybody else, again throwing aside the nuance of this belief set, code of conduct and state of mind. That is where all the interesting, juicy stuff lies.

 Codywan

I know this whole article has just been a case of preference with excessively detailed reasons for said preference, but it goes doubly so here. Live and let ship. And again most of this stuff, like the medic tropes just come from seeing them too many times.

Cody is Obi-wan’s emotional support clone: This is really just a rehash of my complaints about the Jedi being portrayed as if they are the slaves who need rescuing rather than active participants in a republic they serve by their own will. This one just takes on a more person edge. I get it, Obi-wan is everyone favourite whipping boy because he’s just so pretty in pain and big, strong, manly Cody is there to save him from not only the vagabonds but his own selfless nature. It’s a bit full on but basically harmless. I just wish that more writers treated Cody like his own person rather than someone who’s there for Obi-wan. (Fic Rec 5, 6 and 7)

Cody is always the one infatuated: I know, I know, we all love Obi-wan and Cody is not a character much explored in canon so he can serve as the blank slate through which we can smother Obi with love. But I guess I just find Cody really interesting in the sense that … what does it take to be a perfect Marshall Commander, what does it take to be the highest ranked clone in the army. What kind of man would that be? It’s interesting to think about. And I just love to see Obi-wan pine over him. I’m seen a couple of posts on tumblr expressing the same wish for there to be more fics where Cody is the sought after one but they remain frustratingly hard to find. (Fic Rec 3)

The Hardeen Arc is a-okay: The Hardeen arc is glossed over to a frustrating degree. The ‘Obi-wan had to’ arguments don’t cut it because not only is he part of the council that made the decision (FYI fanfic Obi when you are a ruling council and you implement a decision that council makes you don’t get to blame the council, you’re on the bloody council), it is a monumentally stupid decision. Obi-wan is a high general, he has an entire Corps to look after, he one of the poster boys and you big brains think that making the galaxy think he is dead is not going have any repercussions on the war? What was a big subplot of Revenge of the Sith? Oh yeah, it was killing Dooku and General Grevious so that crucial elements of the enemy’s leadership would leave the army floundering. I know most of this comes down to the writers not considering this, but it’s in canon now we have to deal with it. And dealing with it is not just saying, ‘poor obi, you had to make that silly decision and I’m just so happy you’re alive and not in the least bit angry that you not only made me think you were dead but abandoned your men.’ Generals do not participate in covert ops, this was so incredible dumb and dangerous. You think this didn’t embolden the seperatists, and potentially cost the lives of your, no doubt temporarily floundering army? But no, it’s all okay. (Fic Rec 1)

I have a fic rec list after this and I just have to shout out I’ll Orbit Your Flicking Star’ by Sunskippa. It’s the only fic covering the Hardeen arc that includes Cody giving Obi-wan a rank appropriate dressing down and the only one that appears to have even considered what this whole Hardeen debacle must have done to the army. Not only that it actually has Cody as a real person. It’s a perfect fic.

Where are my Omega Cody Fics?: … That’s it. I found 1 (Fic Rec 4)

  Fic recs

(I may not be Pro-Jedi but none of these fics aren’t Jedi bashing as most Jedi bashing is just as absent any nuance and fairness that the ones I’ve complained about are)

1) I’ll orbit your Flickering Star by Sunskippa (See above gushing) https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639628/chapters/59531782

(2) The Edge of Providence by whimsicalimages (never really been a Fan Jango/Obi-wan but the stuff with the clones on Kamino is amazing. You know what I was saying about wariness and trust? The development is perfect here with baby clones acting like how kids like them would act rather than normal kids. Also has an unfinished podfic.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253276/chapters/71833074

(3) Traveling at the Speed of Light by Saerus2665 https://archiveofourown.org/works/41343510 (The one fic I could find where Obi-wan is the one infatuated)

(4) Uncompromising by Flowerparish https://archiveofourown.org/series/3261756

(5) Find It On Your Own (But I'll Be Here When You Return) Redminibike1 https://archiveofourown.org/works/32007316/chapters/79280521

(6) Profane by Glimmerglanger https://archiveofourown.org/works/43896583/chapters/110369320 (I put it on here because at least it has a portrayal of Cody that is quite different … more innocent J)

(7) Cody and the Wonky Concept Of the Live Force Ezekiel0205 https://archiveofourown.org/works/31314800/chapters/77425691 (Cody goes back in time, stands up to Jango and pulls rank on the Nulls, what’s not to like?)

 So yeah, rant over. I want to reiterate that fanfiction is great because it allows for scenarios that you will never see and, most of the time, shouldn’t see in canon. If these tropes are things that bring you joy to read or write that’s awesome. I’ll probably regret posting such a rant but I just wanted to get some personal pet peeves off my chest and maybe try to jump start the old creative juices. Plus I spent hours writing it so it’s bloody well going somewhere. I welcome any thoughts, and especially welcome any fic recs.

[pterodactylterrace]

"I’d say this

1-Don’t have Laenor simply decide to abandon his grieving mother and father after the death of his sister while also murdering someone in the process. That turned a sympathetic character into someone I honest to god hope suffers forever. The face of Rhaenys when she thinks her son died is gut wrenching

2-Keep Aegon a rapist, but remove the fighting pits. The first is in line with his character. The second is absurd, the guy who supposedly drank and raged after the death of his sons would not watch his bastards murder each other for fun.

3-Entire Green council gets changed pretty much. Remove the Viserys nonsense. Let Criston Cole actually just murder beesbury instead of it being an accident. Let the greens present their actual arguments (Great council precedent, Bastards, Daemon, fear for their safety) and let Aegon and Helaena have their big moments. Allow Cole to crown Aegon and convince him to take the throne. Remove the getting to Aegon first plot line entirely.

4-Daemon should have had his caring moment of carrying Laena’s body. It makes a very evil character seem more human to me.

5-Give Rhaenyra some teeth. She’s just sulking around non stop and constantly asking for her father and Daemon to fix her problems. Either portray her as that (a petty vain noble girl who wants the throne while not willing to fight for it) or commit to her as the girl boss Dany 2.0 they want her to be. This nonsense of Rhaenyra being simultaneously Visenya reborn (unironically in the show instead of a hypocritical lie in the books) doesn’t work if she’s just asking the men around her for help

6-Alicent should have been an active schemer after Driftmark. During the death of Viserys we should have gotten an Alicent monologue where she talks about her life with him and the neglect of the kids. And how she will defy him and crown Aegon

7-No accident for Luke. Let these characters actually intend to do what they do. Aemond was already sympathetic with the changes of the bullying; they didn’t need to whitewash him while demonizing Aegon.

8-DAERON !

9-Have Rhaenyra murder Vaemond like she does in canon. Show that the greens have reasons to fear her.

10-Stop with the Larys Strong feet thing. I get it’s not a feet fetish, but all it does is victimize Alicent further instead of developing the characters.

11-Have Otto show some concern for his family more often. He’s not Tywin Lannister. Otto is a Grey character, he’s a schemer and uses his family members for it, but he does love them. Make that more clear for the audience.

12-Aegon and Sunfyre needed more scenes.

13-Remove the white hart. It’s pointless and just pandering to the Blacks for no reason. And it even fails at that since Criston was there too and he crowns Aegon.

14-I wanted Helaena to be portrayed as a happy young woman, a couple of scenes with Jaehaerys , Maelor and Jaehaera would have been a great way to contrast her character pre and post BC. While also humanizing the children.

15-Remove the Mysaria accent. Please

16-In general we needed a couple more episodes in the season"

https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCitadel/s/2Fyp7C9taw

Oh boy. A LIST!!!

Okie dokie, I’m just gonna go in blind and respond to each point as I go!

Not sure what character was made particularly sympathetic. I agree it was messed up and a pointless change only made to make Rhaenyra look better. It didn’t make Rhaenyra sympathetic imo. Laenor was trying to recommit himself to Rhaenyra, break up with Qarl and play his part. She took everything from him. He was sent away penniless without his dragon, his family or even his shoes. I mean, yeah, it’s great that Laenor escaped, but an innocent person still died.

Still not sure how “pinching and fondling” translates into “rapist”. I mean, I made a whole post about how the two are different, but hey, what do I know? Also, in the books, Gaemon (the kid in the pit) is actually from a sailor from Lys, according to his mother. Also, also, how did Erryk know about the pits if Aegon slips away and evades him? Seems convenient that Erryk just knows about his doings while also admitting to Otto that he doesn’t know what he gets up to. Pick a narrative, does Erryk know what Aegon gets up to or not?

I’m all for changing it to Alicent wanting Aegon to take the throne without the stupid misunderstanding. I would have loved to see him and Helaena flying around KL after being crowned. Instead, they had to take away the one shining moment the greens had and turn it into Rhaenys’s gIrLBoSs moment where she kills hundreds of innocent people, all for the sake of just looking cool. (But they aren’t biased AT ALL) (Like seriously, there was a back exit to the pit that the dragons use, why did she crash through the ceiling and kill a bunch of small folk rather than just going out the big open door???)

Umm… they changed her manner of death. This can’t happen with her canon death. Vhagar roasted her. There wouldn’t be much left to carry… Also, they were going with the angle of “Daemon didn’t care for his second wife, Rhaenyra 4eva!” So, there’s that.

Honestly, I just hate how whiny Rhaenyra is. Nothing is ever her fault, even when it is absolutely her fault and something she could have easily prevented.

All for Alicent wanting the throne for her son.

If it being an accident is what it takes to get some nakie Aemond time… I’m just a ho 🤷🏻‍♀️

All we wanted was a throw away line. They cut it but left in the Rhaenyra and Daemon fucking on the beach scenes. Couldn’t have cut those down to introduce a whole ass character? (But again, they aren’t biased!)

I mean, the same amount of fucks were given in the show and the book. Blows my mind that Daemon can behead a nobleman from a prominent house in open court and face no consequences. No wonder Rhaenyra turned out how she did. Viserys just apparently doesn’t believe in consequences for Targaryens.

It’s meant to show the creepy hold he has over her. She doesn’t want what is happening to happen, but feels she has no choice.

Seems he likes Helaena. That’s enough for me 🥰

Agree. Also, can the dragons just be COLORFUL? So sick of these murky ass color schemes because they wanted to make dragons look “realistic”.

Yeah, I’m not sure what they were trying to do with that whole thing. Was it meant to be a good omen to kill it or something? Usually good omens aren’t achieved through killing things.

We definitely needed more of Helaena and the children. Maybe even highlight how little Aegon seems to care for them.

Was I the only one not offended by it? Yeah, it was odd, but it wasn’t as bad as everyone seems to think, imo.

That is hard to debate because they definitely wanted it to end where it ended, so we need more specifics on where to put these episodes. There were a lot of time jumps to deal with as well, so it gets tricky to lay a blanket statement requesting more.

[hydranomago]

DRAMA TRACK 「六色が交わる時、『』が始まる」

Translation of some fav moments from drama track below cut! 

Video track at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMRrQazITwU&t=672s

——

[FP celebrating win] 

Gentaro: (worrying about next steps) 

Dice: Idiot! Don’t think too much! You should forget everything and celebrate to the fullest! 

Gen: So I’m an idiot? Fine, I’ll do as Dice advises. 

Dice:  Oh, I’m counting on you! 

Gen: (proceeds to be possessed by the party demon) 

——

[MTC post-battle]

Sama and Jyuto being regretful, Rio motivating them. MTC agreeing to look forward to next battle. Sama and Jyuto arguing again. 

Rio: Looks like we need to start the ‘special training’ sessions now. (clears throat) UMAKO! USAKO! FALL IN LINE! (馬子 = little horse, うさ子 = little rabbit) 

Sama & Jyuto: (confused) Eh? 

Rio: Didn’t you hear me? FALL IN LINE! 

Sama & Jyuto: (scrambling to adhere) 

Rio: (threatening) I love eating horse and rabbit meat. 

Jyuto: R-rio… 

——

[Broke Yamada] 

Ichi: Cola is 220yen? (whining) That’s too expensive! Why is it that the vending machines in hotels charge so much? (buys Cola anyway) 

——

[Sama and Ichi bickering] 

Sama: Ichiro. 

Ichi: (curt) Samatoki. 

Sama: (immediately sensitive & picks a fight) What’s with that gaze? Are you making fun of me because I lost? 

Ichi: (long suffering sigh from someone who has dealt with this too much) Why would I do that.  

——

[MCD reconciling!!!] Sasa, Kuko: (relating their experience about being brainwashed) 

Sama: (sudden epiphany that the True Hypnosis Mic was used thanks to Ramu’s reveal) 

Ichi: (poor boy who has been out of the loop) Don’t joke around. Who would believe and accept such weird excuses! Do you even know what we felt back then—? Dammit! (runs away) 

Sama: Oi Ichiro! (runs after Ichi like a manga trope; catches Ichi) Oi! I told you to wait didn’t I? 

Ichi: Let go of me! 

Sama: Calm down, you idiot! [Sama you’re in no position to say that]

Ichi: How the hell can I calm down?!

Sama: Well... Normally I wouldn’t be able to calm down either. 

Ichi: Then why—! 

Sama: Because this is a ‘special’ situation. 

Ichi: Hah? 

Sama & Ichi: (discuss about True Hypnosis Mic; Jaku joins halfway to confirm its existence) 

——

[Ramu confessing] 

Ramu: (about Yoshitsuji’s case) I did it. It doesn’t matter which me it was, I’m no different from them; we’re all just puppets. 

Jaku: I don’t think so. 

Ramu: And what do you know? 

Jaku: I don’t understand everything; but meeting you, the time we spent together, that I know. (pause) You are lost. 

Ramu: What about it. 

Jaku: (cue didactic speech, mostly on understanding that Ramu made many mistakes, but to err is to be human; what’s important is what Ramu intends to do from now on) 

Ramu: (shaky) “Human”? I— I want to keep living! I want to cry, to laugh, to get angry at mundane things! I want to face tomorrow with my comrades!! 

Jaku: Your wish will definitely come true. 

Ramu: Don’t say it so easily! You don’t even know how much sacrifice— (coughs blood) 

Jaku: Amemura-kun! Are you alright? 

Ramu: I only have a short life… That’s why, I can’t realise my dream… 

Jaku: No such thing. Although my abilities aren’t worth much, although I’m unable to save thousands, I will definitely save you! 

Ramu: (crying) Don’t joke around! Who the hell would believe your flimsy words! Hurry up and disappear from my sight! 

Jaku: Amemura-kun… 

Ramu: DISAPPEAR! 

Jaku: (leaves) 

Ramu: Damn it… 

—— 

Ramu: (admitting to Sasa & Kuko about brainwashing) … even if I apologise, there’s no way you could forgive me. So, do whatever you want. If you want to beat me up or kill me, that’s fine too. 

Sasa: Kill you? How dangerous… 

Kuko: One look at you and I can tell you’re scum. Thanks to you, Ichiro and I fought over nothing. However, no matter how scummy you are, your apology form the heart has value. 

Ramu: Value? 

Kuko: Yeah! You’ve admitted your mistake, and sincerely apologised; your sincere apology has value.  

Sasa: Well! I may have one or three or four things to still complain about; but being trapped by the past isn’t a way to live! 

Ramu: You two… 

——

[3 Ramus + Honobono appears — can’t wait for this part in manga]

Honobono: Samatoki-chan is scary ~~ [I’ve been laughing for ages at this]

[BATTLE: Ichi, Sama, Jaku VS Honobono &3 Ramus // Sasa, Kuko, Ramu joining after] 

Kuko: (raps about Naughty Busters) Ichiro! 

Sasa: (raps about MCD) Samatoki! 

Ramu: (raps about Kujaku Posse) Jakurai! 

[Me: crying] 

—— 

[Leaders all fired up to beat Honobono] 

Honobono: Ramuda-chan~ Will you go against me too? 

Ramu: I… am afraid of you. But I’m more afraid of being unable to do anything here! 

Honobono: Hmm~ You’re a bit different from the other puppets. I’ll play with you for a bit~ 

—— 

[Post-battle apologies]  

1. Ichi and Kuko apology: (perfectly normal reconciliation, acknowledge each other, friends again, 100% wholesome shounen manga) 

2. Sama and Sasa apology: 

Sama: Oi Sasara, stand up. 

Sasa: Huh? What’s up? 

Sama: Clench your teeth. 

Sasa: Why? 

Sama: (punches Sasa unceremoniously) 

Sasa: sjnfkjsnfsnk what the hell are you doing you idiot?! 

Sama: We’re even now. (sarcastic) Be grateful for my generous kindness. 

Sasa: And I thought I owed you money or something…. 

3. Ichi and Sama apology: 

Sama: Ichiro. 

Ichi: What do you want. 

Sama: (LONG pause) That is… Tsk.. How to say… It seems we have misunderstood each other. 

Ichi: Huh? 

Sama: I thought you misled Nemu… No. That’s wrong. That’s just an excuse. It doesn’t matter what I think now; the fact that I would’ve disregarded your brothers’ safety can’t be changed. I am sorry.  

Ichi: ...I can’t forgive you till now for that happening. But if our positions were switched that day, I might’ve pressed the button, disregarding Nemu’s safety too. So, we’re the same. Well, the past is in the past, (softly) forget about it. 

Sama: … You’re right. 

4. Ramu and Jaku apology: 

Jaku: We’re out of danger for now. 

Ramu: Jakurai. 

Jaku: What is it? 

Ramu: About Yoshitsuji… I’m sorry. If I didn’t exist, none of this would have happened to him. 

Jaku: (whack) Amemura-kun, never say that you should not exist again. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. The things I’ve gained till today, the catalyst of it all is you. 

Ramu: But that’s—! 

Jaku: The fate of humans is to meet and part. No matter the reason, fate will bring people together. 

Ramu: What do you mean by that? 

Jaku: It means, I will definitely save you. 

Ramu: I… I… Does this mean you’ll forgive me? 

Jaku: Of course. 

Ramu: Th-thank you. 

Jaku: So Amemura-kun, if you want to keep living, you’ll need to alter your daily consumption habits. Eating well is important for your health. You’ll grow taller too. Gain a personality that’s equal to your age. 

Ramu: What? Are you calling me a midget? Just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you can look down on people you old fart! 

Jaku: That’s what I was talking about. It would seem that I need to teach you how to respect your seniors properly. 

——

[start of fighting AGAIN] 

Sama: (to Ichi) Speaking of, I haven’t dealt with the rude way you spoke to me last time. 

Ichi: HAH? Isn’t that your (テメ, ‘te me’) problem? We’ve already called it even. 

Sama: That, that! Speak more politely to me, you brat. 

Ichi: What kind of joke is that? Why do I have to be respectful to Aho-toki? (アホ = idiot) 

Sama: Aho-toki...OI YOU JUST SAID ‘AHO-TOKI’ DIDN’T YOU?! 

Ichi: SO??? You are Aho-toki!! (begins fighting) 

Kuko: (good boi stopping the fight) Ichiro! Let go! This is troublesome, so stop! (gets punched) That hurts! Why do you have to start fighting again?! 

Ichi: (flustered) I’m sorry! That was unintentional. 

Kuko: Go die! 

Sama: Oi Ichiro! Come and face me! (to Sasa) Bastard let go of me! 

Sasa: (placating) Okay, okay! Samatoki-sama! Stop picking fights with children! Calm down, calm down! (makes a pun) 

Sama: That’s not amusing at all! Who asked you to say something so bland, you idiot! 

Sasa: (gets hit) Ouch! This bastard…people show him a bit of kindness and he goes overboard! 

Sama: Shut the hell up! 

Ramu: Jakurai, I really hate you after all! 

Jaku: We’re incompatible still, I see. 

Ichi: (to Kuko) I’ll settle this with you in the next match! 

Kuko: That’s my line! 

Sama: Oi Sasara, you dare treat me like a kid? Don’t forget this! The next time we meet I’ll beat you up. 

Sasa: Because you are a kid, what’s the problem?! Next time we meet, I’ll beat you to a pulp! 

Ramu: (breezily, sarcastic) Jakurai, careful on your way back, it’s dark. 

Jaku: To you as well. 

All: (like bickering children) HMPH! 

——

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: VIII

Like wolves we've run wild

Let passion get too much

And let ourselves get burned by the fire

We're walking on wire

But nothing feels higher

Then when I see that look in your eyes

Small Talk, Niall Horan

A/N: here she is!! another part!! you’re probably used to this now, but part 8 got a little long, and will continue in a part 9 but honestly!! who cares!! it just means more vampirerry for all of us 😌 here we deep dive into a few more dates with a dash of some good ole jealousy!! love to see it love to hear it!! and andrea and i would just like to say THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED IN THE 1D CRAFT AWARDS!!!! we cannot believe ysijwa was even nominated, let alone that it won most unique!!! as a thank you, we’re doing a livestream this sunday!! you can send in questions, we’ll discuss the story, and just have a lil chat so please tune in!! details can be found here!! and please if you like what you are reading here!! reblog it!! leave reactions in the tags (we read every single one)!! send a message to andrea and i!! feedback and interaction is what keeps content creators motivated to keep writing and updating!! and that’s a general rule for all content creators not just us!! we do this for free so a lil love note is always appreciated 💌 alrighty now that that’s out of the way!! let’s dive in!!

ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist :  ysijwa playlist II

word count: 30k

content/warnings: confessions of an immortal shopaholic, blair waldorf dark au, the glamorization of the sugar baby lifestyle, harry not understanding the concept of sharing, y/n “eat the rich” y/l/n, harry the walking rosetta stone (tw: google translate), an italian chef (and psychic) who will also adopt someone before dessert is served, A Cinderella Story 6: Fifty Shades of Gucci Grey (rated R), an internal monologue of john mulaney’s “now we don’t have time to unpack all THAT!!!”, and a definitive guide on how to get rid of unnecessary parts of an outfit

Harry is aware that he has a taste for excess. 

He wasn’t always like this, truly.  When he was human, everything about his life had been thoroughly middle class.  He was apprenticed to his father, the town’s blacksmith, and spent the majority of his life living in modesty.  He wore plain clothes that had been sewn by his mother with the cheapest and most durable material she could find.  He spent most of his days at the forge, or dutifully completing chores at home.  He prayed quietly in church, took only the bare minimum of what he needed from anything, and, for the most part, kept his head down.  He’d lived his life with no fancies, no frills, and no fun, in the hopes that all his humble modesty would serve him well in his next life. 

And then he ended up eternally damned, so a fat lot of good that suffering had done him.  All he got from following such a plain mode of life was intimacy issues, a newfound bloodlust, and a broken neck. Therefore, when it came to his afterlife, Harry decided to try a different route. 

And that route, lucky for him, always seems to lead him back to Gucci. 

Harry’s tried a lot of styles and a lot of designers in his two hundred and some years of life, but he’s yet to find anything that speaks to him like Gucci does.  Whether it’s a leather wallet, a blue velvet suit, a sheer pussy bow shirt, or a silk neck scarf; if it has the Gucci label stamped on it, Harry probably owns it. 

Whenever he steps foot in the store, sales associates flock to him, knowing that he’ll drop at least five thousand in one visit.  Harry knows he should feel a tad guilty, but frankly, he thinks he’s earned it— more so than those billionaires he compels into making monthly donations to the “charity funds,” also known as his bank account. 

His methods, however, do bring him a bit of flack from his friends.  While Mitch normally does everything with Harry, the laid back and neutrally good-aligned vampire can only spend so much time in a high-end boutique before claiming that he’s “choking on the cologne of the entitled.” Niall, on the other hand, doesn’t let his teasing nature stop him from joining Harry, but Niall’s affinity for polyester usually stops Harry from allowing him inside the store.  And Xander is a non-starter— the last time Harry tried to bring him, the vampire had spent the entire time cracking scathing jokes about Harry being a sugar baby, to which Harry responded with a comment about Xander being jealous of the salesman fitting Harry.  That little argument turned into a three day battle of neither speaking to the other, and had only been settled when they each agreed that the other deserved to lose an eyebrow for what was said.  

Harry could recount more instances of friction caused by his shopping habits, but needless to say, he either frequents the shopping district of Los Angeles by himself, or with Adam, who is wonderfully indifferent to Harry’s methods of obtaining pocket change, as well as how he spends said pocket change, and possesses the bonus trait of having an eye for beautifully tailored trousers. 

It’s Adam who is by Harry’s side as he walks into the Gucci store for the third time in two weeks, his disinterested expression nearly eclipsed by the confident smirk that adorns Harry’s ruby lips. 

It’s almost like they have a censor for him, Harry thinks smugly, as the associates begin to whisper to each other at the sight of him.  Even if he didn’t absolutely love the brand, Harry would come to Gucci just for the boost to his ego. 

Despite having accompanied Harry before, Adam still leans over to his friend, raising a quizzical brow as his eyes scan over the racks of clothing they pass. “Do we have to go to the counter, or—?”

“Oh, I never have to go to the counter.” Harry chuckles lightly, brushing his icy fingers over a smooth silk shirt styled on a mannequin. “They—”

“Mr. Styles!”

The egotistical simper on Harry’s lips grows, and he shoots Adam a smug look before turning around. “They come to me.”

“Mr. Styles, it’s so nice to see you again.” Mr. Koffman, the manager of this particular location, stops in front of Harry after a brisk walk over, fixing the fit of his suit jacket before extending his hand to Harry and Adam. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” Harry shakes his hand once, enjoying the usual look of bemusement that flashes through the human man’s eyes at his strong grip and cool skin. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’m just fine.” He replies, shaking Adam’s hand once without moving his attention from Harry. “We’re thrilled to have you back so soon.  I understand we have a suit in the works for you?”

Adam rolls his eyes the moment Mr. Koffman turns away from him, turning his attention to the rack of jackets to the left and running his fingers over the material. 

“Yeah, I got the call this morning to come pick it up.” Harry pauses, giving Adam a sideways glance as his grin grows. “But I was wondering if I could do one last fitting, just to make sure everything’s set…?”

“Oh, uh—” Harry enjoys the frayed tone that echoes from the manager’s mouth as he begins to scramble, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I’m so sorry, but we have another appointment coming in fifteen minutes, and—”

Harry sighs in mock disappointment, clicking his tongue as he gives a slight nod. “Ah.  I see.” He sighs again and lifts his shoulders in a small shrug, glancing at Adam from the corner of his eye.  The other vampire is watching him with a half-amused, half-exasperated expression, and it takes all of Harry’s willpower to bite back a laugh. 

The light sheen of nervous sweat on Mr. Koffman’s brow begins to drip down his temple. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Styles—”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Harry waves off the apology with an unconcerned air, glancing at his own statement watch and sighing again. “If you could just have my suit sent down to the Gucci location on Rodeo, I’d really appreciate it— I know they’ll be able to squeeze me in for a last minute fitting.” Harry smiles at Koffman, whose face fades a shade paler as the creature gestures to his friend. “C’mon, Adam.”

“No, no, there won’t be any need for that!” Mr. Koffman says quickly, checking his watch again as his hand reaches for the handkerchief in his suit pocket.  He dabs at his moist forehead while forcing a smile at Harry, who gives an easygoing smile back. 

“It’s alright, Mr. Koffman, really— if you’re unable to make some room for me, I’m sure they’ll be happy to—”

“You’ve been a wonderful and loyal customer to us, Mr. Styles— we’d be more than happy to make room for you.” The human smiles again, the action more strained than before as he tucks his handkerchief away and clasps his hands in front of him. “Just— Just give me one moment to arrange it with alterations, and move some things around.  Please, feel free to browse,” He gestures to the racks of clothing around them. “And I’ll be back in a few minutes once we have everything ready for you.”

Harry hums in the back of his throat, faking hesitation as he replies in a slow voice. “Well...if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble…”

“No trouble at all.  Not for you.” Koffman, to his credit, manages to make the response sound natural before scurrying away, already dialing a number on his phone as he speed-climbs the staircase leading to the alterations department. 

The laugh Harry’s been choking on for the last three minutes escapes the moment the human disappears, echoing off the marble walls around them as Harry turns to Adam with a glint in his eye. 

Adam, on the other hand, looks less entertained and more annoyed. “Was that really necessary?” He asks in a bored tone, crossing his arms as his eyebrows raise in question. “Why do you need to try the suit on?  You had, like, three fittings.  It’ll be fine.”

“I know, but I want to make sure it’s perfect before I take it home— I’m spending way too much money for it to possibly be defective.  And I want you to see it in all the glory of the mirrored Gucci fitting room.” Harry pats his friend’s shoulder as he steps past him, his attention captured by a pair of red leather and snakeskin boots sitting on a pedestal in the corner. 

Adam snorts once, short and harsh. “Were those the only reasons, Mr. Styles?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Harry drags a finger over the embroidered side of the boots, his cherry lips rising at the corners. “I do enjoy making Koffman squirm.  He’s so easily bothered by the littlest of things; it’s like an open invitation to cause some trouble.”

“Y’know, if I didn’t know what you really were,” Adam laughs once in spite of himself, shaking his head in disbelief while checking out a pair of plaid trousers. “I’d think you were the devil.” 

Harry’s smile twists into something more sinister as he fiddles with his gold cross, twisting the pendant under the overhead lighting so it glints symbolically in Adam’s eye. “It’s a good thing I’m not, hm?  I’d be unstoppable.”

“We’d all be doomed, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, absolutely. But world-domination aside, everyone knows the devil wears Prada, not Gucci. Get it together, Prendergast.” 

The clicking of dress shoes against the marble steps alert Harry to Koffman’s return before his sputtering heartbeat does, and the vampire turns his head just in time to see him descend down the spiral staircase. 

“Good news, Mr. Styles!” He beams at Harry as he steps off the last platform, nearly tripping over his feet in his effort to get to his client. “I was able to talk to the girls, rearrange some appointments, and we’ll be able to do a final fitting for you.”

“That’s wonderful t’hear, Mr. Koffman.” Harry tucks his cross back beneath his shirt with a pleased grin, catching Adam’s eye over the mortal’s shoulder. “I wasn’t fancying the drive to Rodeo.”

“I wouldn’t either, sir.” Koffman nods solemnly, gesturing to the stairs with a stubby hand. “But we’re always glad to make accommodations for you here.”

And isn’t that the truth, Harry thinks as he makes his way upstairs, Adam hot on his heels as Koffman leads the two of them to the alterations department.  Part of the reason why Gucci— and this location, if Harry’s honest— holds such a place in his unbeating heart is because it reminds him of an era long gone.  When Harry steps through the gold archways of the store, he instantly transforms into a person worth noting, and is waited on as if he were a lord in Victorian England who was set to inherit twenty thousand pounds.  Now, of course, Harry could drop the equivalent of twenty thousand pounds in one shopping trip, but it was a large sum of money back then, when Harry could only dream of such wealth. 

Now, the immortal’s reality involves him being waited on the moment he enters the alteration department, with one attendant handing him a glass of champagne as another shows him a display of accessories to match his custom suit, which hangs proudly inside a garment bag on the wall.  Adam, for all his eyerolls, still accepts the complimentary champagne and appraises the accessories right along with Harry, who gets a chance to roll his own eyes as an attendant named Mara convinces him to try on a platinum watch.

“Would you like to try one as well, Mr. Styles?” The other attendant, Blair— Harry’s favourite consultant at the store, truth be told— bats her eyes at him as she taps a finger over the Rolex already adorning Harry’s wrist. “Could be nice to switch it up, no?”

Harry offers a polite smile as he readjusts the band of the watch on his arm, tutting in reply. “I’m afraid I’m rather attached to the Rolex brand for my watches, Blair.” He sighs before nodding his head at Adam, who’s become enamoured with the platinum band on his wrist. “Best to focus your energy on that one, I think.  He’ll make you some easy commission.”

“It’s not about commission, Mr. Styles, it’s about finding you something you’ll love.” Blair pouts as she leads him behind the dressing room curtain, her lithe fingers unzipping the garment bag covering his suit with one swift motion. “I thought you’d know me well enough by now to know you’re much more than commission to me.”

The smile on Harry’s face only falters for one second, the flicker going unnoticed by the employee as she carefully removes the suit from the bag.  The last time Harry had been here for a fitting, she hadn’t been working— he remembers because the new attendant they’d sent to deal with him had nearly zipped his suit into the garment bag when the fitting was over.  It had been Blair, however, who had originally measured him for the suit, and Harry remembers her wandering fingers that paused at his inseam a moment longer than needed, how she had showered Harry with praise as he modeled the sample suit.  It had done him good then as he strutted around the alterations department, flexing underneath the chandelier light as she’d complimented his every pose, but that had been nearly two months ago.  Moreover, it had been two brunches, four dinners, three walks, and an antiquing trip ago.  A lifetime ago, really.

“That’s very kind of you, Blair.” Harry finally manages to respond, his fingers pausing at the buttons of his shirt as she hangs the separate parts of the suit on their own hangers. “I’d trust no one else with a suit this expensive, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” A light giggle escapes the girl as she hangs the jacket on the wall, stepping back and admiring the pieces with a keen eye. “I’m glad you decided to go with the light grey fabric; it’ll compliment your eyes so nicely.” When she turns back around, Harry doesn’t miss how the same keen eye skirts over the half unbuttoned fabric covering his torso. “I’ll give you a moment to slip everything on.  If you need anything…” The girl tugs the curtain back just enough to let herself out, her pink lips tugging into a simper. “Just call for me.”

Harry’s smile grows tighter as the curtain closes behind her, and disappears the moment he’s out of her sight.  He’d forgotten, really, the effect he has on most mortals.  It had been something he’d paid close attention to before, delighting in how they all unknowingly stroked his ego as their jaws dropped whenever he’d walked by.  In a way, it’s nice to know that he’s still capable of that— he’s still a narcissist, after all— but it’s a little less satisfying when he’s grown so used to that careful attention from Y/N.  When it comes to stroking, he thinks shrewdly, a smirk slowly crawling onto his face as he strips out of the rest of his clothes, there’s no one better than her. 

Once he’s stripped completely, he dresses in the custom suit, pulling the crisp fabric along his muscled limbs and tugging it into place.  He starts with the silk black shirt, slipping his arms into the sleeves and buttoning the two sides together, excluding the top three holes.  After that, he steps into the grey trousers, tucking the shirt in and taking a moment to admire the black stripe that runs down the inseam of the pants, which— to Blair’s credit— hug his thighs perfectly.  Once he’s satisfied with the lay of the article, he slips the suit jacket overtop, adjusting the sleeves over the dress shirt as he fiddles with the cuffs.

“Now, don’t worry about the cufflinks with the suit, Mr. Styles,” Blair calls through the curtain, her voice grating across Harry’s admiration with an irritating cadence as she seems to predict his need. “They’re just some samples given by the store.  I’ve personally selected some more appropriate pairs that match your style much better.”

When Harry tugs back the curtain, Adam has shifted himself to the plush velvet couch in the middle of the room, his champagne glass already refilled as he slouches back against the cushions.  Mara, it seems, has disappeared from the fitting room, but Blair is standing just to the side, next to a table lined with gold accessories for Harry to try.

“Well?” Harry asks, stepping to the platform that sits in front of the mirrored wall, his jeweled hands tugging at the starched lapel of the jacket.  He regards himself in the mirror for a moment, admiring the fit across his sturdy shoulders, before rotating around to face the vampire and mortal. “What do you think, Adam?”

Adam takes a long sip of his champagne, mulling over his reply for so long that it sparks irritation in Harry’s stomach, which is only soothed by his long awaited comment. “It looks good.” He nods, squinting his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. “A little plain, compared to what you normally wear, but it’s nice.”

“I don’t know if it’s proper to call this plain.” Blair scoffs, looping the tape measure in her hands around her neck as she approaches Harry, her heels clicking against the lacquered floor. “Mr. Styles usually has a preference for something more patterned, true, but there’s something to be said for a sleek, simple suit.” Harry watches the way her eyes flicker down his body, pausing at his inseam with a look that’s less than professional. “And that black stripe along the inside of the pant certainly...draws the eye, does it not?”

Although her words are laced with implications, Harry directs a smirk at Adam as he rakes a hand through his curled locks. “It’s alright, Blair.  Adam’s right, it is a little plain compared to what I normally wear, but every man needs a nicely tailored formal suit in his closet.”

“Exactly.” Blair nods in earnest response as she begins to circle Harry, her detail oriented eyes sweeping over every aspect of the suit.  In the reflection of the mirror, Harry catches the way her eyes settle over the fit of his backside, her heartbeat increasing for just a moment until Harry clears his throat.

“The cufflinks, love?” Harry prompts, raising his arms as he begins to fiddle with the cuffs. “These sample ones are horrid.  You said something about gold…?”

The attendant snaps from her objectifying stupor, her eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror as a light blush settles over her cheeks. “Yes, I, um, picked some out for you here.” Her heels click again as she retrieves the velvet lined tray that’s studded with jewelry, bringing it to Harry for him to examine. “We have a few variations of the Gucci logo— interlocking G’s, some embossed onto gold coins— but I think this pair we just got in might be to your liking.”

Harry reaches for the cufflinks Blair points to, pinching one between his fingers and lifting it close to his eye to examine it.  It’s a pair of interlocking G’s, but instead of a smooth finish similar to the other pairs before him, these have textured engravings all around the letters.  It takes Harry a moment to realize that the engravings are scales, and the G’s are actually—

“They’re engraved to look like snakes, with black Swarovski crystal eyes.” Blair begins her infomercial-like spiel, holding up the other cufflink for her own examination. “They’re 18K gold with an aged finish, and the attention to detail is just extraordinary.  Even the back is engraved with an Arabesque motif.” She twists the cufflink around in her fingers as Harry does the same, examining the engraving with an approving nod.

“They’re lovely.” Harry murmurs, wrapping his fist around the cufflink to secure it before removing the sample cufflink from his own sleeve.  With one swift motion, he’s swapped one piece of gold hardware for another, fiddling with the fit of the sleeve as he sets the new cufflink amongst the fabric. “S’a nice fit, I think.”

“It’s a wonderful fit.” Before he can reach for the other cufflink, Blair snags his sleeve in her grasp, replacing the sample in a motion nearly as swift as Harry’s. “Beautiful, really.  It’s such an understated suit, which works to its advantage, but the pop of gold on the cuffs will really make everything stand out so much more.”

Harry nods seriously, a pensive look on his face as he examines the sleeves once more before raising his arms. “What d’you think, Adam?  Look alright?”

Adam offers a passive nod as he becomes distracted by the rack of watches again, his fingers draping over another platinum band. “Looks good, man.  But you know that.”

“I know.” Harry flashes a blinding smile at his friend, dropping one emerald eye into a wink as he fiddles with the cufflinks. “But I like hearing you say it.”

“It really is a perfect fit, Mr. Styles.” Blair nearly coos the words as she circles him again, her careful fingers tugging and adjusting the lines of the suit just enough that it can be considered appropriate for her job.  “Gorgeous.  The best we’ve done, I think.” Her fingers dance over his lapel as she adjusts the fall of his open neckline, and a flash of warning ignites in Harry’s stomach as her skin grazes the ink of Harry’s chest. “But the suit is only doing half the work, you know.  The rest is all—” Her touch travels up the lapel and across his shoulder, her body taking a step behind his own as her touch settles on the nape of his neck. “You.”

Although her skin barely brushes the back of his neck, the pin-prick touch bursts into a shudder that paralyzes Harry’s entire body, tensing his every limb.  When it releases, his frame spasms one single time in reflex, yanking itself away from the human’s touch.

The shudder doesn’t go unnoticed by Blair or Adam, although each has their own response based on what they know of Harry.  As his jade eyes harden to stone, Harry catches the cautious movements of Adam, who is slowly pulling himself into a tense and careful posture in the corner of Harry’s eye.  Blair, on the other hand, is merely frozen with her hand still hanging in midair, a confused and bewildered expression painted onto her features.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Styles?” She questions, her self-preservation betraying her as she takes another step forward with her outstretched fingers once again reaching for Harry’s shoulder. “Is something in the suit bothering you?”

Harry gives a rough shake of his head as he leans back from her touch once again, forcing himself to take a deep breath through his nose to collect himself.  When he speaks, his voice is low, raspy, and filled with a quiet fury that exceeds the intensity that would accompany a scream. “I think I’ve mentioned before,” He enunciates each word clearly, his delivery cold in every aspect. “I prefer not to be touched there.”

Despite the tense undercurrent of Harry’s voice, Blair’s expression relaxes once she realizes the cause of it. “My apologies.  I was just trying to adjust the fit.” When she places her hand on Harry’s elbow and tugs at the sleeve, her brow creases at the taut joint, but her voice remains as smooth and slick as ever. “I’ll make sure to keep my hands to myself— or at least, wait for your direction on where to put them.”

The smile that curves over her lips begins to fall as Harry’s face stays as stony as ever, his own mouth dragged down into a frown as the implications of her words settle around him.  Part of him wants to snap right there, to give into the instinct to bare his teeth, swell his chest, and show this emboldened employee what she’s really touching, but Adam’s eyes over her shoulder urge him not to. 

His friend knows how sensitive Harry can get when his guard is at full throttle, especially when that issue stems from anything vaguely related to that particularly haunted place the young woman had carelessly touched. Watch it, Adam’s gaze seems to say as he shakes his head just enough for Harry to notice.  It was an accident. You’re fine. 

Harry inhales deeply once again, grounding himself in his human persona with each rise and fall of his chest. “That would be wise, I think.” He finally responds, straightening his back and turning to face himself in the mirror once again. “Just be a bit more careful.”

It seems that Blair has finally gotten the hint, because every touch of her fingers over him for the rest of the fitting is calculated and precise.  Her hands do drift a little further on his body than what’s necessary, but she makes sure she doesn’t graze against his icy bare skin again.  What Harry finds most curious, however, is that every swipe of her fingers against the fabric grates on what seems to be his last nerve.

They’ve played this cat and mouse game before, always teasing, always touching, and just barely staying out of reach.  But it seems Harry has gotten too lax in his ways, he thinks, as his cold eyes watch the movements of the girl in the mirror, because she’s never been this blatant before, especially in front of another customer.  Does she actually think something could happen between the two of them?  Does she really believe that Harry would drag her behind the curtained partition, meticulously remove the suit he’s just paid thousands for, and trace his own fingers over her supple flesh as if he’s fitting her for himself?

The thought nearly pulls a ridiculing laugh from Harry’s chest, but that laugh is replaced with a pondering thought that irks Harry the moment it flickers into his mind.  He could do that, yes.  He’s certainly done worse, and Blair can probably sense that.  If Harry were in her position, of being the mouse that believes it’s the cat, he would probably think that something was going to come out of all their chasing eventually.  And why hasn’t it?

The answer, of course, comes to Harry a moment after the question does.  Even though Blair is, by society’s standards, objectively attractive, and obviously willing to follow any direction he gives her, Harry is smart enough to not draw attention to himself by hooking up and feeding from a consultant that works at his favourite store.  It had been Niall, he thinks, who summed up a simple yet effective rule wonderfully for him once: Don’t shit where you eat.  Plain and simple.  

But there’s a second answer that grinds at the back of Harry’s mind, festering inside every thought as Blair makes final adjustments, blathers on about accessories and additions, and tries to raise her commission by once again showing Harry watches.  Harry doesn’t want Blair, because Harry has Y/N.  Being touched by Blair feels wrong because Harry’s so used to being touched by Y/N.  And Blair grazing over his neck bothered him so much because he can, apparently, only stand someone’s fingers grazing there if Y/N is the one doing it.

And perhaps festering isn’t the right word, Harry muses, because the warmth that’s spreading through him with that realization feels a lot more like blossoming than anything else.  It flowers within him, lavender weaving through every limb, letting him know that maybe— just maybe— he’s not as selfish as he thinks.  He could be a complete monster, and fabricate a relationship for Y/N while still pursuing other people, but he has, at the very least, one shred of decency hidden within him.  Although he indulges his base desires whenever he’s with her, he at least has the power to resist one of them.

With that in mind, Harry finds it easier to pay less mind to Blair’s lingering touches and sly compliments, and instead focuses on cherry-picking the suggestions he wants to take from her.

“Y’think I should change the shoes, then?” Harry steps down from the platform, drifting closer to the full length mirrors to examine the black leather loafers adorning his feet. “Something more colourful?”

“Not necessarily colourful, no— after all, we’ve worked hard to create a cohesive look.  We wouldn’t want to interrupt that with a sudden burst of fuschia.” Blair laughs once, brushing her hair behind her ears as she hums in consideration. “But something with a bit of gold, maybe?  To match the cufflinks?  We could add some gold hardware to those loafers, or just find a new pair for you…”

“New is always better.” Adam chimes in from the couch, tilting his half full glass to Harry with a wry smile. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Styles?”

Harry points a ringed finger at him, winking once in confirmation. “Right you are, Mr. Prendergast.” He begins scanning the room, his eyes catching every pair of shoes displayed and comparing them in his mind. “Do you have some selections we could look at, Blair?”

“If you give me a few moments, I could certainly run to the back and pull some—”

As Harry’s keen eyes settle onto a pair of boots on display in the corner of the room, he raises a hand, cutting the girl off in one swift motion. “That may not be necessary.” He murmurs, walking over to the pedestal and examining the newest object of his fascination.

The boots are made of matte leather with polished snakeskin over the toes of the shoes, both fabrics shining the darkest black Harry has ever seen.  The leg of the boot is relatively short, and would probably only come to Harry’s ankle, with a black heel that would add an inch or two to Harry’s already tall frame.  But the pièce de résistance that draws Harry’s eye the moment he sees them are the embroidered gold dragons that adorn the outer sides of each boot, their bodies coiled in such a way that Harry almost swears he can see them breathing. 

He slides one finger around the toe of the boot, nearly shivering in how pleasurable the silky surface feels against his skin. “How much?” He mumbles the phrase with a reverent look in his eyes, his voice as delicate as his touch.

Blair’s smile twists into one of apology as words Harry has never heard from her before fall from her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, but those are actually a custom order for another client.  They’re not for sale.”

Harry hums low in his throat, his fingertips dancing over the gold embroidery. “I’ll add another thousand onto whatever they’re paying.” He says, earning a breath of hesitation from Blair and a sigh of exhaustion from Adam.

“Christ, Harry,” The latter groans, rubbing his eyes in a frustrated manner at Harry’s familiar antics. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at sharing?  Did you skip that part of kindergarten?”

“Kindergarten wasn’t really a thing where I grew up.” Harry reminds his friend, shrugging indifferently before turning his attention back to the torn consultant. “So?  Another thousand?  I think that adds on quite a nice percentage of commission for you, doesn’t it?”

“I— Mr. Styles, I’m not really sure if—” Blair stutters over her words as she quickly strides over to him, the clicking of her heels against the marble floor punctuating each pound of her heart in her chest. “I don’t really think we can do that.”

A short laugh echoes from Harry’s ruby lips as a grin dimples his cheeks, the humour of her words apparent only to him. “You know I don’t take no for an answer, Blair.” He raises his eyes to hers and locks their gazes, lowering his voice to a smooth and convincing octave, pupils dilating as supernatural magic flows into his irises.  When her own eyes respond the same, her face falling slack for just a moment, Harry knows he’s alright to continue. “You didn’t answer my question.  How much?”

“Just under four thousand.” The consultant replies immediately as the compulsion settles into her brain. “They would be around five if you wanted to add on the thousand you mentioned before.”

The smile on his face twists into something more conceited, and Harry steps back from the boots with a satisfied sigh. “I’ll take them, then.” Confidence weaves itself through his voice as he meticulously removes the suit jacket from his body. “Call Mara to wrap them up, won’t you?  While I’m changing, I’ll need you to start pulling some more selections for me.”

Blair blinks the compulsion from her eyes as Harry’s stare dips from hers, her tone thick with confusion as she sleepily takes the jacket from Harry’s hands. “More selections, Mr. Styles?  Of what?”

“Yeah, Harry.” Adam’s words are tinged with trepidation as he subtly checks the time on the watch now hanging off his wrist. “Of what?”

“Cocktail dresses, I think.  Although I’m not opposed to a cute little romper, as long as it has a bit of sparkle and shows off some leg.” Harry says thoughtfully, rubbing over his pillowy lips as he ponders the thought. “But I think a cocktail dress would work best.  Black, maybe.  To keep it classy, but not too classy.” He says, shooting a wicked grin at Blair. “I’d like to see a bit of skin.”

“I’m— I’m sorry,” The befuddlement in the human girl’s voice finally begins to clear up, leaving curiosity-tinged jealousy in its place. “What sort of event is this outfit for?”

Harry’s loafers echo around the marble room as he makes his way back to the changing area, a plan already forming in his head as he speaks. “A dinner.  Semi-formal, so no floor length gowns or anything like that.  Maybe bring some matching heels as well, although...” Harry pauses with the changing curtain clutched tight in his hand. “I think a quick trip to Christian Louboutin down the street may yield better results in that department.”

“Quick trip,” Adam quotes scornfully, downing the rest of his champagne and setting the glass down on the gold side table with a groan. “That’s what this was supposed to be, H, and we’ve been here for an hour!  We were supposed to pick up your suit, and then head back to Niall’s for the barbecue—”

“So text Niall and tell him we’re running behind; he certainly has no problem doing that to us.” A snort sounds deep in Harry’s throat as Blair walks to the ornate desk in the back of the room and picks up the gold-plated rotary phone, dialing a short number with practiced speed. “And, with the amount of times he’s complained to me about my lack of punctuality, he should be used to it by now.”

The other vampire rolls his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a groan. “Fine.” He relents, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “But you’re buying me this watch as payment.” 

“Fine.” Harry shrugs as he echoes the word, his voice casual and without a care as he slips behind the curtain and finishes undressing.  

Once he’s hung the suit back up on its hangers and redressed in his normal clothing, he retracts the plush curtain once more to find an annoyed Adam hanging up the phone, his newly purchased boots gone from the pedestal, and the heavy gold accessories that had been picked out for Harry being swapped for finer and daintier pieces.

Harry begins to examine the gold chains, humming in thought over the delicate pendants that swing from them. “How’d Niall take it?” He tosses the question to Adam over his shoulder, not particularly concerned about the answer.

“He told me to call you a wanker and rip off your ear, so,” Adam tucks his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head at the Irishman’s harsh words. “About as well as you’d expect.”

Another hum vibrates through Harry’s throat as he sets a mental note to make amends with his friend at a later date. “So do you want to rip off my right ear, or my left?  I have to admit, my left is my prettier ear, so I’d be appreciative if you left that one alone.”

The laugh that leaves Adam is so genuine that Harry knows he can’t be too annoyed at him.  When his friend joins him in overlooking the jewelry, Harry offers him an airy smile in return, pointing out a detail in one of the pendants to Adam’s interested gaze.

“Explain something to me.” Adam starts after a moment, his own hands grazing over a diamond bracelet. “Why go to all this trouble?  A dress, shoes, accessories… what’s the point?”

If it were any of his other friends asking the question, Harry would take a defensive response, spouting off a justified reply about how he looks so good in the suit that it needs to be seen, and that he can’t wear it and have Y/N not match him in clothing that’s sufficiently up to par.  But Adam’s eyes, albeit frustrated at times, have always been kind, and contain a depth of clarity that Harry can’t resist. He’s always been the most level-headed of the group, second only to Mitch, so the monster always feels safe trusting him with his innermost thoughts. 

“S’nice, I suppose.” Harry replies with as casual a tone as he can allow, lifting his shoulder as the sound of a rolling cart heavy with clothing pricks his ears from down the hall. “I’m taking something from Y/N, so… it makes me feel nice to give her something in return, y’know?  Makes me feel a little less guilty, at least, if she’s having a good time.”

Although Adam’s eyebrows raise at the mention of guilt, he makes no other comment on the surprisingly candid confession from his friend. “I get that.” He says slowly, settling down the gold necklace in his hand with a gentle touch. “I’m surprised you get it, but I get it.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry huffs as Blair rounds the corner and enters the room with a rack laden with black garment bags. “Don’t tell Niall I said that, alright?  He’ll never let me hear the end of it, and if he thinks I’m going soft— which I’m not—” Harry tacks on quickly. “He’ll start trying to fuck with me, and then I’ll have to rip off his ear, and it’ll be a whole thing.”

“My lips are sealed, man.” Adam laughs, gesturing over his shoulder to the clothing cart. “Shall we pick a dress for the lucky lady, then?”

A smirk paints its way onto Harry’s face. “Mhmm.  As long as you’re the one modeling it.”

///

A package arrives the next afternoon.

Like any Saturday when she isn’t working or with Harry, Y/N is home alone, trying to unwind from the previous week’s trials and tribulations.  Although she’s worked customer service jobs at home, working a customer service job in Los Angeles is a whole other demon, and she finds herself more exhausted than she’s ever been more often than she’s not.  It’s probably a good thing, she muses to herself over a cup of tea and her new copy of Sense and Sensibility, that she doesn’t have many friends in L.A., because she wouldn’t have the energy to go out with them anyways.  And honestly, she prefers it that way.  She’s learned to get along with her coworkers enough at her job that she doesn’t feel isolated, and sees Harry enough outside of work that she feels she has a shred of something resembling a social life.  Her quiet afternoons at home by herself are really a godsend, in a way.  They give her an opportunity to recharge to be present enough for social interactions during the week.  Being lonely can be a challenge, yes, but being alone is an entirely different thing, and it’s something that Y/N quite enjoys.

Which is why she’s so confused when her doorbell rings at 2:13 P.M. on a Saturday afternoon.

The moment the sound pricks her ears, Y/N pauses her reading, setting her book down on her lap as she sends a confused look towards the front door.  Her eyes slide to her phone next to her, tapping the screen to make sure she hasn’t missed any messages from anyone.  Harry, surely, would at least text her before showing up unplanned, wouldn’t he?

When her phone screen is found to be predictably blank, and the doorbell rings again, Y/N stumbles her way from her couch to the front door, her chain clanging against the frame as she unlocks it and pulls the door open.

A man she doesn’t know raises an eyebrow at her as she looks up at him, and a spark of fear flickers in her stomach before she realizes he’s wearing a UPS uniform and holding a large brown package in his hands.

“Are you Miss Y/N Y/L/N?” He asks, glancing down at the tablet in his hands. 

“Uh— yeah.  Yes, I am.” Y/N replies slowly, tugging the patchwork cardigan she’d stolen from Harry around her frame. “Hi?”

The UPS delivery man gives her a quizzical look. “Hi.” He repeats back to her in a monotone voice, extending the tablet in his hand. “Sign here, please.”

The urge to argue that she wasn’t expecting anything bubbles up in Y/N’s throat, but she tamps it down as she accepts the tablet, using the pen attached to the device to sign her name.  It’s probably from her mother, she thinks, scrawling her signature quickly before handing the tablet back.  Even though L.A. is famously a city without seasons, her mother has probably knit her two new blankets for the winter months, or sweaters, or some other woolen article of clothing that Y/N will have no use for.

The UPS delivery man swaps the tablet in her hand for the package in his, barely sparing Y/N another glance before retreating back down her hallway.  

“Um, thank you!” Y/N calls after him, shifting the surprisingly heavy package in her palms as she nudges the door shut with her socked foot.  

She carries the box to her living room, setting it down on her coffee table before pausing for a moment to double back and relock her front door (although she’s adjusted to living alone, the fear that’s been implanted in her from a young age about living in a big city still has a hold on her).

The box, she discovers upon further examination, has no return address, but it does sound like there’s multiple items inside when shaken.  And then Y/N remembers that she’s an adult, and should probably not be shaking a box when she doesn’t know what sits inside, so she sits back on her couch with a confused pout— until she once again remembers that she’s an adult, and can open a package addressed to herself.

It takes a moment of struggling to tear off the thick tape lining the seam of the box— a moment which would probably have been shorter if Y/N had retrieved a knife from the kitchen, truth be told— but the opening of the package makes the contents no more clear.  When she pulls back the top of the box, she finds sheets of packing tissue paper, which she tosses onto her living room floor without care to reveal the surprises inside.

And what a surprise the black and white box with Gucci stamped on top is.  Nearly as much a surprise as the second larger black and white Gucci box underneath, or the red and black box next to it labeled Christian Louboutin.

Y/N’s not quite sure how long she sits there staring at the packages in shock, but when she finally manages to unfreeze her limbs to take a sip of her tea, the liquid is considerably colder than it had been when she set it down to open the door.  The packages are so unexpected that it takes her a moment to realize that designer boxes typically contain designer items inside them, and maybe unpacking those will bring her greater insight into what the fuck is happening right now.

Of course, that’s not the case.  

Beginning with the smaller Gucci box, Y/N carefully extracts it from the brown container and sets it on her lap, untying the black ribbon encircling it as if she were dismantling a bomb.  When she lifts off the lid to find a matte black leather clutch purse with a gold Gucci emblem as the clasp, she almost thinks that a bomb would be preferable, because surely, there’s been a mistake.  Y/N certainly hasn’t purchased a Gucci clutch for herself, so it’s entirely likely that this was a gift for someone else, and the UPS man had just gotten the address wrong.  Yes, she thinks to herself, ghosting her fingers over the supple leather in shock, that must be it.  It’s a mistake.  And because it’s a mistake, she should back this all up and call UPS to have them fix it.

And then she remembers the UPS man had said her name, and that’s enough motivation to open the Christian Louboutin box next.

Based on the brand, Y/N suspected that the box would reveal a pair of shoes.  It’s still a shock, however, when she finds a pair of black satin heels that shine even in the low light of her apartment, with a satin ribbon death trap of an ankle tie, and signature red lacquered bottoms.

By the time Y/N reaches the third box, she’s moving on autopilot, her fingers robotically untying the black ribbon and lifting the lid without her instructing herself to do so.  The only words she can manage upon seeing the black cocktail dress is a gentle but emotive “What the fuck?”

The dress, she finds as she cautiously lifts it from the box, is made of satin, and is nothing she would ever purchase for herself in a million years.  The neckline dips into a low V, supported by off the shoulder cuffs, and Y/N can already tell by the cut of the fabric that if she were to slip it onto her body, the knee length dress would cling to her form.  And— Y/N shifts the dress into the light as her eyes widen in shock— as if that weren’t enough, there’s a leg slit that runs so high that Y/N flushes at the mere thought of her thigh peaking through.

It’s that detail, coupled with the suspicion that a single item of the package— let alone all three together— costs more than her rent that leads Y/N to the realization that only one person she knows could have sent all of this.

Folding the dress carefully back in the box and setting it to the side, Y/N fumbles to retrieve her phone from where she had left it earlier.  After unlocking it, she flips to her contacts and clicks on the familiar name, raising the device to her ear with a slow motion.

The phone rings four times before Harry’s voicemail crackles through the speaker. “Hi, you’ve reached Harry.  I can’t talk right now, but if you leave a message at the beep, I’ll try to get back to you.” There’s a moment of hesitation in the recording, and Y/N almost thinks she’s missed the beep before Harry’s accented voice returns. “Unless you’re Niall.” 

The expected beep finally sounds, and Y/N swallows hard as she tries to find the words she needs. “Hey, Harry, it’s, um, it’s Y/N.  I just received your package— I mean, I think it’s from you, because I don’t know who else would send me a Gucci dress— which I can’t accept, by the way.  That’s why I’m calling.  So, um,” She sucks in a harsh breath to give pause to her rambling before continuing. “Just— just call me back, alright?  Thanks.”

While Harry is usually attentive to every call and message from Y/N, her voicemail receives no reply, nor does her second phone call, or her third, or the four texts she sends to Harry in between.  By five P.M., she’s given up on hearing back from Harry at all, and is nearly resolved to pack up the box again and march it to Harry’s apartment when his signature sharp rap echoes on her front door.

Despite her frustration at receiving no reply from him, there’s an air of relief running through Y/N as she tightens the cardigan around herself and strides to her front door.  She unlocks it quickly, her greeting already falling from her lips before the door is even open.

“You better have a good reason for ignoring me all afternoon, Harry, because I’ve been wracking my brain to figure out why—”

And then Y/N’s frantic eyes finally settle on the man before her, and the rest of her beration dies before it can leave her throat. 

Harry is leaning casually against her frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest, as usual, and he’s dressed in a grey suit that clings to his body in a way that is so attractive, Y/N didn’t even think it was possible for a man to look this utterly flawless.  The suit fabric looks soft to the touch, more luxurious than anything Y/N could ever dream of, and the black silk shirt that lies underneath looks even softer. The human tries to not let herself focus on the way the shirt is slightly unbuttoned, showing off the inked swallows that decorate Harry’s muscled chest, as well as his usual cross necklace.  However, letting her eyes drift lower proves to be a mistake, as her gaze is immediately drawn to the black stripe that runs down the inseam of Harry’s pant legs, highlighting the muscles of his thighs in a way that makes her mouth water.  Even his shoes, black leather boots embroidered with gold dragons, are attractive in a way that Y/N doesn’t understand.

“Hello, darling.” Harry’s charming voice and dimpled smile pull the girl’s eyes back to his face just in time to see his lips drop into a discouraged frown.

Although Harry is usually greatly fond of seeing Y/N clad in cozy clothes with her hair in a messy ponytail (especially when his own cardigan is part of the ensemble), the look isn’t necessarily welcome at the moment. Yes, she looks adorable in her pastel blue pajama pants with cartoon sheep scattered all over the fabric. And yes, she looks incredibly cute swaddled in an oversized The Nightmare Before Christmas tee along with his patchwork coat. However, given the premise of the plans he’s drawn for tonight, her outfit is far from appropriate. Especially because he’d expected her to be wearing the dress he’d bought her along with the heels and clutch, dishing out a sexy but classy aesthetic rather than the ever-present lonely couch potato one.

He gives her entire body a quick, judgmental sweep, brows cinching. “I— why aren’t you ready?”

The confusion bubbling in Y/N’s mind molds into indignation at his words, albeit a hint of bewilderment lingers. “Ready for what?” Y/N demands, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at Harry expectantly. “I’ve been trying to call you all day about the dress, and you didn’t answer a single time, so I don’t know what—”

“The dress?” Harry’s brow draws together deeper, his easy going demeanor twisting to match Y/N’s within a moment. “Why were you calling about the dress?  Does it not fit?”

Y/N’s mouth gapes open at the question. “I haven’t tried it on, Harry, I—”

“What?  Why not?”

“Because I can’t accept it!” Y/N exclaims, the suffix of obviously unspoken between them. “It’s way too expensive by itself, let alone with the shoes and the purse!”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Harry responds in a slow and careful voice. “Why don’t we step inside, love, and continue discussing this while you get ready, yeah?”

Y/N scoffs at the condescension in his voice, but does as he says, stepping back from the doorway and allowing Harry to walk inside before locking the door behind him. “Ready for what?” She demands again, following Harry’s path down the hallway to the living room. “You still haven’t told me!”

“Christ, Watson, I thought if I sent you a dress and heels, you’d figure it out!” Harry replies with a half-joking sigh, a degree of annoyance beginning to work its way into his tone as he touches the ribbon of one of the Gucci boxes. “You’re losing your touch, huh?”

“Okay, well, apparently I’m a little slow tonight, so fill me in, Sherlock.” Y/N matches Harry’s snippy remark with ease, pinching the bridge of her nose as her head begins to throb in irritation. “What’s going on?  What obvious clue have I missed?”

“I sent you the outfit for you to wear—”

“I figured that much out, thanks.”

Harry’s emerald eyes snap to hers in an exasperated flat glance before continuing. “—to dinner.  I made us a reservation at my favourite Italian place, and I thought that the dress and the shoes would be enough of a hint that I could keep the rest a surprise.” He gathers the ribbon with his fingers again, rubbing the fabric between them as his face drops its usual haughty front. “You really didn’t...you didn’t try it on?  Do you not like it?”

The disappointed hesitation threaded through Harry’s thick accent stops Y/N short, worming its way into her aggravated chest and leaving a spark of guilt behind. When she speaks again, her voice is dulled by genuine warmth, less sharp and pointed and more soothing and grateful. “I...I do like it.  It’s a lovely dress; a little more body-hugging than what I would’ve picked, truthfully, but it’s beautiful.” Y/N offers Harry a soft teasing smile before continuing. “I just...I can’t accept something so expensive from you.”

“Why not?” Harry’s brows re-furrow in sheer confusion as he drops the ribbon from his grip, turning to face her fully. “It’s just a dress, Y/N—”

“It’s a Gucci dress.  And purse.  And Louboutin shoes.” Y/N states with a disbelieving laugh, crossing her arms over her abdomen as she drops her gaze to the rug she’d picked out from IKEA. “It’s too much, Harry.  I know you meant well, but I can never...I could never pay you back for this, or give you something as nice, or…”

A disheartened pout tugs at the corner of Harry’s lips as he registers the mortal’s words.  It hadn’t occurred to him that his gift could be perceived negatively; he’d just thought she’d like it. He likes to think their friendship is in comfortable enough territory now that gifts wouldn't be a turnoff, especially because of how much more time they’ve been spending together outside of the bedroom. However, as he stands here now watching her hug herself in the living room of the tiny apartment she’d told him she was so proud to afford, he can see how wrong he’d been in that assumption.  Y/N is independent, and has been from the moment he met her.  A gift like this— so extravagant and expensive— could come off as him mocking her financial status, almost, even if it had originally been bought with good intentions.

Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth as something that feels a lot like embarrassment begins to boil in his stomach.  She’ll feel like she owes him something, when that’s the farthest thing from the truth.  If anything, it’s long overdue payment for everything Harry has unknowingly taken from her.  

“I don’t care about that.” Voice dropping quieter, Harry takes a step forward, his cool fingers wiggling their way between hers and pulling her arm from her tummy.  Once her hand is within his grasp, he squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over the back of her knuckles. He talks slowly, keeping his tone level and honest to communicate the real innocence behind his prestigious present. “I don’t need you to pay me back, and I don’t want you to feel bad.  The money thing— that’s not an issue for me.  And I understand if...it makes you uncomfortable…” His gaze flickers to the ground as well before meeting hers again. “I can take it back if you’d like, if it bothers you that much.  But I was hoping…” 

He rubs his finger over his cherry lips pensively, taking a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “Well.  The reservation is already made, I’m already dressed— and looking like a proper stud, if I may say so myself—” He laughs once in an attempt to lighten the mood, his eyes glued to Y/N’s face to see if she takes to the joke. He feels cool relief flood his veins when she scoffs slightly, the edges of her mouth ticking upwards humorously. “And you’ll match me so well in that dress that it’ll probably put me to shame, dove.”

Y/N glimpses up at him hesitantly, squeezing his fingers with a playful air. “You’re really good with words, y’know that?”

“I like to think I’m good at quite a few things.” Harry grins suggestively, cheekily squeezing her grasp right back. “And I hope I can add ‘getting you all dolled up and convincing you to come along to dinner with me’ to that list. So...what do you say?”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip as she mulls over the suggestion, her fingers grazing over the lionhead ring on Harry’s hand.  He has gone to a lot of trouble, she thinks, glancing over his appearance one more time.  His curls are carefully coiffed, his skin is practically glowing, his trusty cross necklace glints alluringly in the buttery lighting, alongside a small gold hoop on his pierced ear, and the way the suit fits over his body, hugging every flexing muscle and annunciating every hypnotizing curve… 

“What time is the reservation?” She finally asks, eyes flickering to the clock on her wall that reads ten after five.

Harry’s eyes follow hers. “Seven.” He says immediately, licking his lips once as he grips her hand in anticipation again. “We have plenty of time to make it, if— if you want to.”

It could’ve easily been the money Harry spent on the clothing that sways Y/N to say yes.  It could’ve been the humiliation of not realizing what he was planning and ruining his surprise.  But in reality, the thing that causes the next sentence to fall from Y/N’s mouth is the quiet weariness in Harry’s tone— a certain shyness that she hasn’t seen in him before, paired with a specific type of subtle raw hope that makes her heart absolutely melt.

“Alright.” She murmurs, nodding her head once as she draws away from his touch. “I’ll go shower, then, and get ready.  Are you alright waiting out here?”

A relieved smile jolts at the corner of Harry’s lips as he easily nods in return. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.  I’d offer to hop in with you, but…” He gestures to himself vaguely as his grin widens with conceited teasing, shrugging one shoulder offhandedly as if what he says next should be obvious. “We wouldn’t want to ruin perfection, now would we?”

The jesting response pulls an eye roll from the human girl. “Uh huh.” She snorts, snatching her phone from the coffee table as she begins to make her way to the bathroom. “I won’t be long.”

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” Harry calls after her, slipping his own phone from his pocket.  The click of the door lock pricks his ears, but he waits until he hears the shower running to unlock his device and dial the restaurant number.

“Bella Vita Ristorante, how many I help you?”

Harry exhales hard as he rubs a hand over his eyes, his head falling back to hang off his shoulders as his mind recalculates the evening’s plans, shifting things out of place to mold everything around this minor hiccup. He tries to keep his voice as steady as possible, swallowing down the instinctive bothered bite threatening to elbow through. “May I speak to Vincenzo, please?”

“Yes, of course. Just a moment, please.” There’s a shuffling on the other end of the line, and Harry’s gaze slides to the Rolex on his wrist as he waits, not nearly as patient as he knows he should be.

“Hello?” A familiar rough Italian accent echoes through the phone speaker, followed by a light clearing of the person’s throat. “This is Vincenzo.”

“Ciao, Vincenzo, é Harry.” Hi, Vincenzo, it’s Harry. He answers in Italian on reflex, gliding his hand over his lips once more as he fights the urge to tug on his styled hair. “Come stai?” How are you?

Friendly excitement breaks into the man’s voice the second the vampire makes his identity known. “Signor Styles, sto bene, grazie! Non vedo l'ora di vedere te e la tua ospite stasera.” Mr. Styles, I’m well, thank you! I’m looking forward to seeing you and your guest tonight.

Harry glances at the bathroom door symbolically, exhaling curtly through his nose. His tone comes out apologetic and unsure. “Sì, chiamo di stasera.  Abbiamo riscontrato un piccolo problema.  C'è un modo per spingere la prenotazione da sei a sette?” Yes, I’m calling about tonight.  We ran into a little problem.  Is there any way we can push the reservation from six to seven?

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and Harry waits with bated breath for Vincenzo’s reply. The waiter’s response flows through the phone with a rueful heaviness that makes the immortal’s stomach plummet. “Siamo molto impegnati stasera, Harry… È un sabato, dopotutto.” We’re very busy tonight, Harry… It’s a Saturday, after all.

A frustrated sigh falls from Harry’s lips as he scratches at the nape of his neck, once again itching to yank at his curls but forcing himself to refrain the impulse. “Lo so, Vincenzo, e mi dispiace chiederti il ​​favore, ma devo. Sai che te lo devo e ti lascio una generosa mancia.” I know, Vincenzo, and I’m sorry to ask you such a favour, but I have to.  You know I’ll owe you, and I’ll leave a generous tip.

When Vincenzo replies, the hesitation in his voice is gone, replaced by reassurance and familiar fondness. “No, no, Harry, non mi devi niente. Per te, non è un problema. Gli amici aiutano gli amici per gentilezza, lo sai. Mi assicurerò che il tuo tavolo sia pronto per le sette.” No, no, Harry, you don’t owe me anything.  For you, this is no problem.  Friends help friends out of kindness, you know that. I’ll make sure your table is ready for seven.

Harry heaves a grand sigh of relief, a wide smile cracking his face in half. His head swings forward as a light laugh falls from his ruby lips, all tension washing out of his strong shoulders in one swift wave. “Grazie mille. Ti devo, lo fare.” Thank you so much.  I owe you, I do.

His friend’s casual demeanor filters through the phone with a dismissive click of his tongue, and Harry can practically see the older man waving his hand passively. “Senza senso. Ci vediamo più tardi, sì?” Nonsense.  I will see you later, yes?

“Sì. Grazie ancora. Ciao, Vincenzo.” Yes.  Thank you again.  Goodbye, Vincenzo.

As Harry hangs up the phone, he feels a weight lift off his chest.  He knows that it wouldn’t have been a problem if Vincenzo had been unable to move the reservation; all it would’ve taken is a few words of persuasion at the host stand, and Harry would’ve been able to waltz right into the restaurant.  But Vincenzo has been kind to him— has been such a good friend, really— and Harry would hate to tarnish that relationship.

With the new reservation secured, Harry tucks his phone back into his suit pocket, turning his attention to the gifts he’d brought Y/N that are still in their boxes.  He removes the satin dress from its packaging, meticulously folding it over his arm as he snags the clutch and heels with his hands and carries them to Y/N’s room.

Harry nudges the door to the bedroom open with his foot, hesitating in the door frame as Y/N’s familiar honey and lavender scent fills his senses, and the vampire’s gaze slinks over a place he’s spent countless hours in as she’s slept soundly next to him.  There’s been a few changes, he observes— warm satisfaction begins to bloom in his chest when he sees the tapestry on the wall has been replaced with the framed Monet print from the antique mall, her half emptied overnight bag is lying on her chair still from her last overnight stay at his condo, and the comforter on her bed hasn’t been fixed back in its usual place.  Harry sets the Louboutins on the ground before tugging the comforter back into order, draping the dress onto the bed and smoothing the creases that formed.  After he lays the clutch down next to the dress, Harry steps back and admires his choices.  It was good that he’d gone with the black satin, he thinks, brushing a hand over the shining fabric with a fulfilled expression.  It’s simple, yet elegant, and matches him perfectly, which brings a flutter of pleasure to his dormant chest like nothing else.

With the dress sufficiently laid out, Harry turns on his heel to leave, and his quick movement blows an unfamiliar scent around the room.  Harry inhales deeply, wrinkling his nose in response to the thick fragrance of carnations and cedar that settle into his senses.  While cedar isn’t one of his favourite scents, he doesn’t usually mind it, but the overpowering presence of carnations nearly gags him, and Harry twists back around to find the source of the offensive stench.

It only takes a second for his eyes to settle on the cause, a new addition to Y/N’s bedroom that he hadn’t noticed when he first walked in.  He takes one stride across the small room to her bedside table, picking up the object with a gentle grip.

The picture frame is made entirely of glass, but has a decorative gold edge lining the small rectangle as both decoration and protection of delicate hands from sharp corners.  In the center of the frame is a photo of three girls dressed in navy blue caps and gowns with red and white sashes around their necks, their arms thrown around each other as their posture curves, and bright smiles on all of their faces.  Although she looks years younger, her hair is longer, and her eyes more naive, Harry recognizes Y/N on the left right away.  The identities of the other two girls, however, stump him.

Of course he wouldn’t recognize them on sight, as Harry has never met any of Y/N’s hometown friends, but his ruby lips drop into a frown when he realizes that he can’t even conjure a name for either of the girls.  No first initial, no general idea— just nothing.  They’re ghosts to him.

Harry traces a finger down the younger Y/N’s face, searching for any part of the woman he knows now in the girl who existed then.  The acne on her cheeks that she’s covered in makeup for the photo match the pattern of light scarring she has on her face, small marks that Harry’s traced in the dead of the night as he listens to her breathe.  Her eyes, while younger, do show a faint glimmer of that stubbornness that he’s been so prone to witnessing.  But it’s her smile, Harry realizes, that is the most different.  While the size and shape of it are the same, there’s a dullness to it that digs into his mind, scraping against his every perception of her.  This is around the time she’d have been with her ex, he remembers, dragging a finger down the edge of the frame.  But what else was life like for her there?  She had friends, obviously, friends who still care about her enough to send her this framed photo drenched in their carnation and cedar scent.  Life couldn’t have been all that bad.

He sets the framed photo back down on her bedside table, scanning the room with a keen eye more closely than he had before.  If he tore through every book on her wall of shelves, would he find any inscriptions written to her from a person in her past?  Notes that had been slipped between herself and others in high school science class, still pressed between yellowed pages as bookmarks?  What if he dug into her bedside table drawer?  Would he find more pictures, letters from those she’d left behind?  It’s strange to think that with all the time Harry has spent in this room, there’s still so many secrets buried within its four glossy walls.

Harry settles his gaze onto the silk dress once again, worrying his bottom lip between his sharp teeth as he does so.  Y/N had been worried that a Gucci dress wouldn’t be a good fit for her, and while Harry had thought she meant she couldn’t wear a designer brand, maybe she’d meant she didn’t want to.  Maybe her hesitation didn’t lie in just the cost of the outfit, but in her not wanting something so extravagant.

Sucking in a short breath through his teeth, Harry clears his mind of the thought.  Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to, he assures himself, quickly adjusting the hem of the dress on the bed.  And besides, it’s just for a few hours.  She’ll be out of the dress soon enough, and into…

Harry turns back to her vanity, swiping the overnight bag from where he’d spotted it on the chair.  A pair of sweatpants already lies inside, but Harry still tugs open Y/N’s dresser and snags another pair, as well as a comfortable t-shirt for her to sleep in.  He packs two pairs of fresh panties as well, one high-waisted cotton and another a cheeky pretty lace (the latter is definitely for selfish reasons, if he’s being honest) along with Y/N’s favourite pair of fuzzy slipper socks, because he knows how her feet get cold on the tile of his kitchen floor in the mornings.  

The image in his head brings a smile to his face as he grabs a few hair ties from her vanity and throws them into the bag, along with her half empty bag of makeup removers.  She always gets a chill in the morning in general, so she normally emerges from his bedroom with one of his sweaters tugged around her tired body, half mumbling incoherently until Harry slides a cup of coffee into her hands.  In truth, sleeping next to his icy body probably does nothing to help the mortal, but Harry just tries to wrap her in an extra blanket to help remedy the situation.

Just as he’s tugging the zipper on the back shut, he hears the creak of the bathroom door, followed by the soft steps of Y/N’s feet against the runner rug down her hallway.  Harry straightens up just as the bedroom door is nudged open, and whatever sharp comment was on the tip of his tongue dies away as he sees Y/N.

She’s already done her hair, having styled it into soft curls that are pinned back from her face with two gold clasps on either side of her head, and if Harry were in a more comprehensive mindset, he’d be pleased that the gold will match the adornments on the clutch.  But Harry isn’t in a comprehensive mindset, due to the fact that Y/N’s body, still damp from her shower, is wrapped in only the smallest blue towel Harry has ever seen.

After Y/N shuts the door behind her, she turns around and sees Harry standing in her bedroom with a bag in his hand, and she clutches the towel tighter to her chest in surprise. “Harry—” Her heartbeat stutters as she locks eyes with the creature before her, her cheeks immediately flushing with heat. “What are you doing?  I said to wait in the living room!”

“I know.” He licks his lips slowly as his eyes flicker down her figure and back again, the bright emerald darkening to jade when he meets her gaze once more. “I was just laying out your outfit.  Although now that you’re here, wearing only that—” He gestures to the towel with his free hand as the edge of his lips curl. “Why don’t we just cut out the middleman and have a quick shag?”

Y/N scoffs in response, pushing her way past her lover to her dresser drawers. “I already showered, H, and I even put effort into my hair, so we have to go out.  Can’t waste it, y’know?” With her hand wrapped around the handle of her dresser, the human girl pauses, her gaze drifting curiously from Harry’s face to the bag clutched in his grasp. “What’s that?”

It takes a moment for Harry’s attention to turn from Y/N’s glistening cleavage to the object she’s nodding towards. “Oh, I— uh— I packed an overnight bag for you.” He clears his throat as he sets the bag on the bed, taking a step back from the item like it’s a ticking bomb. “It’s not— I’m not insinuating that you have to stay over if you don’t want to, of course. And you don’t have to use it, but I just thought that if you decided to, you’d want something comfy to sleep in.”

“How is it,” Y/N laughs softly, her curls bouncing as she shakes her head in disbelief. “That you can go from saying you want to fuck me to telling me you packed me an overnight bag, all in the span of one minute?”

Harry presses into the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he chuckles, dimples winking awake and eyes glimmering all at once. “S’easy, really, when you look like that.  It makes me horny—”

“Everything makes you horny.”

“—but I’m still a gentleman.”

A low hum echoes from Y/N’s throat as she opens her underwear drawer, surveilling the contents before she begins to rummage for what she’s looking for. “Alright then.  Would the gentleman be so kind as to step outside so I can finish getting ready?”

Y/N hears two quiet footsteps behind her before she can feel Harry’s cool breath on her neck, her damp skin prickling at the sensation.

“Do I really have to step outside?” He groans lowly as his lips graze the shell of Y/N’s ear temptingly, and she shivers when his teeth follow behind. “S’nothing I haven’t seen before.”

There’s a nagging temptation in the back of Y/N’s mind to twist around on her heel, drop her towel to the ground, give into Harry’s half-hypnotic seduction, and let him drag her back to her bed to take care of the heat that’s beginning to swell between her thighs.  But she knows she’s already pushing the seven P.M. deadline, and if she allows herself to take that detour, she’ll never make it on time.

“Yes.” She mumbles, suppressing a whine as Harry’s lips move to the pulse point on her neck, smudging open kisses down her heated skin. “I just need to do my makeup and get dressed, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

A disappointed sigh rustles across the shell of her ear. “Alright.” Harry murmurs defeatedly, smudging one last kiss to her jugular before stepping back from her intoxicating cloud of flowers and sugar that, if the burn in the back of his throat is any indication, is doubly intense from her shower. “I’ll just be outside then, doll.  Take your time.”

Y/N keeps her back to Harry, clutching her towel with a clenched hand until she hears the click of her bedroom door shutting behind him.  She knows that if she looks at him again, and sees that stupidly suggestive smirk on his face, she’d give him whatever he wants— which, considering she’s already trying to do that by going to this dinner, is a bit of a problem.  Once he’s gone, however, she’s free to heave an exhale of relief as she searches for the undergarments she’s pictured in her mind.

While Y/N was in the shower, she’d been trying to picture what she would wear with the expensive dress that Harry had purchased for her.  She only has one strapless bra— a nude coloured cotton contraption, which she’d purchased at a Target last minute for a dinner party a neighbour had thrown back home a few years ago— and she didn’t think that pairing the cheap article with a Gucci dress was going to work.  Some of her friends back home, however, had just mailed her a little care package earlier in the week, and one of the things they’d included was a strapless bustier with a note reading “Here’s to getting L.A.’d!” tucked inside.  They’d meant it as a joke, of course, but as Y/N extracts the lace garment from her drawer, she sends a silent thank you to her friends and their strangely omniscient humour.

Y/N releases her grip on her towel, drying the rest of the dampness from her body quickly before tossing the fabric over the back of her closet door.  After selecting a matching pair of black lace panties, Y/N slips the undergarments on, fidgeting with the bustier to get it to sit right.

A gentle knock echoes from the other side of her bedroom door just as she gets the clothing settled. “How’s it going in there, love?” Harry’s voice floats through the crack in the door, half muffled through the barrier. “Have you got the dress on yet?”

“Not yet,” Y/N calls back, sitting down at her vanity as she analytically surveys her makeup. “Patience is a virtue, Holmes, don’t you know that?”

On the other side of the door, Harry lets out a long sigh, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers along the inside of his elbow. “Yeah, well,” He leans his back against the door, sliding one ankle over the other as he lets the wood support his weight. “‘M not very virtuous, Watson.  I think you can attest to that.”

Harry glances over his shoulder at the wooden door, a smug smile peaking onto his lips as he hears the blood rush to Y/N’s cheeks from inside the room. “What?” He taunts, satisfaction laced into his accent. “Cat got your tongue?”

Pressing his head back against the wood to hear better, Harry is met with the sound of a makeup brush sweeping against Y/N’s silky skin, so quiet that human ears could never detect it.  He focuses his attention a little harder to try and picture the steps of her getting ready routine as she performs them. 

A rustling of fabric that sounds a lot like lace pricks his ears, taking his attention with it as Y/N grumbles a reply. “You’re such an ass.”

“Ah, nevermind, then.  Tongue’s still there, and as sharp as ever, I see.” Harry chuckles lowly as he listens to the nearly silent stroking of mascara over Y/N’s lashes.  

He likes that, he realizes, as he raises one hand from its crossed position to rub over his pillowy lips while he waits.  He likes hearing the muted sounds of Y/N getting ready— the bristling of makeup brushes against her skin, the hushed hums that leave her mouth as she debates over what colours to use on her eyelids, the muffled spritz of her perfume bottle against her neck.  The notes of poppies and vanilla mix with her natural scent of lavender and honey, and Harry’s eyelids flutter when the fragrance rolls under the door and envelops him completely.

It takes a harsh bite of his tongue and digging his fingernails into his clenched palms for Harry to restrain the moan fighting to break through his tightened jaw.  Months ago, when he first smelled Y/N in that club, he’d sworn that she smelled more delicious than any aroma he’d ever encountered, but now… Harry wants to laugh at the naivety of his past self, and probably would, if unclenching his jaw didn’t mean letting a growl fall from his throat.  Now, he’s convinced Y/N’s scent is an aphrodisiac created just for him.  All it takes is one small inhale, and his entire body responds.  Even now, as he presses his pounding head back against the panel, he can feel his mouth flooding with venom, his abdomen tightening, and a subtle throb beginning to bulge his—

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice breaks through the cloud of arousal dulling Harry’s senses. “Can you help me zip up the dress?”

The vampire swallows the excess venom in his mouth in an attempt to clear the lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah.” He replies, his voice strained as he struggles to regain control of himself.  He clutches the door handle in his icy hand, pushing the barrier open with restrained strength. “Yeah, I can.”

When he steps into the room, he expects to see Y/N facing the door, her hands clutching the loose dress to her chest the way she’d clutched her towel earlier.  For a moment, there’s a flicker of excitement in Harry’s belly that beats back the desire rolling around inside him.  He’s been waiting to see her in his dress for only a day, but it feels like an eternity, and he pastes a charming smile onto his face as he lifts his eyes to meet Y/N’s.

What he’s greeted with, however, is the smooth expanse of the girl’s exposed back, a clear line of tantalizing skin running from the nape of her neck to the curve just below her backside, only broken up by a thick band of black lace with satin ribbing.  

While he was able to control himself in the hallway, the inside of Y/N’s bedroom— with her mouthwatering scent surrounding him and her exposed skin in his line of sight— is an entirely different story.  Harry can feel the way his canopy green eyes darken, and it’s a good thing Y/N is facing the wall, or else she’d see the shards of crimson that he can’t stop from flitting across his irises.  With every step he takes towards the human, he becomes more aware of just how mortal she is— how her heart pounds louder with each passing moment, the shallowness of her breathing as he gets closer, the heat radiating off of every inch of her skin.  Even with his centuries of experience behind him, it’s nearly too much for Harry, whose every instinct is screaming at him to lock the door and ravage the girl in front of him in every way he can.

Harry doesn’t stop walking until the front of his chest brushes against Y/N’s back and his breath is hitting her neck.  He unhurriedly skims his palms over her bare shoulders, feeling the goosebumps that form underneath his icy touch as his hands run down her arms and back up again.

“This…” His voice is thick with desire as one hand travels down the trail of Y’N’s spine, eliciting a shiver from her before grazing the edge of the black lace. “This is new.  I haven’t seen this before.”

“I…” Y/N’s speech falters as she feels Harry’s freezing digits trail down the small of her back as his other hand continues to stroke across her shoulder, barely touching the base of her neck with each movement. “I got it from my friends back home.  They, um—” She sucks in a harsh breath as Harry’s hand inches its way towards her throat. “They sent me a package.”

Harry hums low in her ear, the sound vibrating throughout her body before settling in her warming tummy. “Did they?  How thoughtful.” With his palm finally at her neck, he squeezes it once, applying the slightest bit of pressure to her jugular as his lips brush against the top of her ear. “I should send them a thank you note.”

The feeling of Y/N swallowing beneath his grip sends another wave of desire crashing over Harry, and he bites back a low growl as the fingertips of his other hand find the golden Gucci emblem zipper at the back of her dress.  When he does, he tugs the metal tag up slowly, the sound of the zip barely audible over Y/N’s ragged breathing. 

“S’a shame, really.” Harry murmurs in her ear, letting his teeth graze her earlobe just hard enough to catch her breath. “A crying shame.”

“What—” Y/N’s heart pounds out of her chest as Harry squeezes her neck once more, applying just a smidge more pressure than he did previously. “What’s a shame?”

Harry’s lips trail down her jaw, smearing a single kiss along the dip where it curves to meet her neck. His fingers squeeze her one last time before releasing. “That this pretty little piece your friends sent you is going to end up ripped to shreds on my bedroom floor.” 

The blunt reply incites a squeak of surprise from Y/N as Harry tugs the zipper completely to the top of the dress, settling the seam flat against her flushed back before stepping away.

“Fits like a glove.” Harry murmurs as his hands return to his sides, fixing the fall of his own suit that was disturbed during his previous actions.  He raises a single finger and makes a twirling motion as he dimples a smirk the human girl can’t see. “Give me a twirl, will you, dove?”

Y/N inhales a deep breath as steadily as she can, using the moment to calm her racing pulse before turning around to face Harry with a flustered complexion. 

The dress, made of black satin, has a sweetheart neckline that sits off her shoulders, and hugs tight to the curves of her body all the way down to the hem, which sits just above her knees.  It could be considered conservative, really, if it weren’t for the leg slit running so far up her thigh that Y/N is a little worried about flashing her underwear every time she takes a step.

Harry, however, seems to share none of those concerns, as he hungrily drinks in the sight of her with a satisfied grin and lust swirling through his jade irises.  She’s kept her makeup fairly neutral, save for the bold red lipstick adorning her lips, and while Harry feels a prick of sadness at the realization that he’ll have difficulty kissing her throughout the evening, the idea of smearing said lipstick across her face afterwards erases the feeling completely.  And the dress… “Y’look so fucking gorgeous in that dress, angel.” He hums lowly, rubbing his thumb over his lionhead ring absentmindedly. “So much better than Adam did, and without all the complaining, too.”

Y/N stares at her lover with a blank expression “What—?”

“Does it feel alright?” Harry strides around the mortal girl, examining the fall of the fabric with a keen eye. “I took a guess on your size, though I think I did pretty well. I've licked every inch of your body to the point where I practically have it memorized, so it was relatively easy.” He gives her a cheeky grin as his hand grazes her waist. “But Gucci sizing can be a bit tricky.”

“It— yeah.  It feels alright.” Y/N tugs on the hem of the dress as she feels heat crackle across her ears, shooting him an accusing stare as she touches the thigh slit. “This is a little much, but other than that…”

“That’s my favourite detail, actually.” Harry laughs lightly as he walks to her bed, taking a seat on the edge before reaching for the Louboutin box. “But it’ll feel a lot more natural once you have the heels on.”

“Uh, yeah, about those…” Y/N eyes the offending shoes as Harry extracts them from the packaging, doubt painting itself all over her face. “Those look like six inch deathtraps, and I don’t really trust something that uses a ribbon to attach itself to my ankle, so I think I’ll take a raincheck on the heels.  I have some flats I can wear instead.”

Harry scoffs, a snort echoing from the back of his throat as he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine, love.  I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.  You may not trust the shoes, but you can trust me, can’t you?” He unravels the ribbon from one of the shoes and pats his knee expectantly. “C’mere.  I’ll make sure I tie them nice and tight, yeah?”

Y/N nearly chews on her bottom lip before she remembers the lipstick she’d carefully applied earlier. “Alright.” She relents, walking over and lifting her foot to rest on his bent knee. “But if I snap my ankle in half, you’re paying my hospital bill.”

“And I would do so gladly, except it won’t be necessary.” A quiet chuckle rolls out of Harry’s lips as he grips her calf gently, fitting her foot into the sole of the heel with one smooth motion.  Once it’s sitting nicely, Harry diligently wraps the satin ribbon around her ankle, stopping midway up her calf before tying it tightly into a neat bow. “See?  Nice and secure, darling.  You’ll be alright.”

Y/N’s cheeks boil as Harry presses a single kiss to the slope of her knee before setting her foot gently on the ground. “Next one, please.” He smiles up at her with a twinkle in his sea glass eyes.

That twinkle, however, darkens the moment Y/N hikes her other bare foot onto his knee, gripping his shoulder for support as she teeters on one heel.  The leg that she’s lifting is the side of the dress with the thigh slit, and she can tell from the expression on Harry’s face that he has quite the view.

Just like he did previously with the zipper, Harry takes his time slipping Y/N’s foot into the second stiletto.  He trails his fingers all the way up her calf and back down before reaching for the ribbon, and is more meticulous in his motions as he ties the satin around her calf.  

Y/N swivels on her other foot as she tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders, fisting the fabric of his suit between her fingers. “Thanks, H.” She clears her throat as Harry’s cool hands keep their grip on her lower leg, massaging the muscle beneath his fingers with careful and concise motions. “That’s, um, that’s good, I think.”

Harry hums in response, letting her know he’s registered her words, but he doesn’t release her from his grip.  Instead, he bends at his hips, making sure that Y/N can still grasp him for support as he connects his lips to the smooth skin of her calf.

He smudges his mouth all along the area up to her knee, each kiss sloppy and open-mouthed as he inhales more and more of her intense fragrance.  His nose nudges along the tender and dimpled flesh of her thigh, her scent growing stronger the higher Harry gets, and it burns his aching throat with lust and thirst.  He can feel the heat radiating from her core, and he wants nothing more than to burrow his face between her legs and lose himself completely in her taste.  But he’s already come so far, and put so much work into this night; he can’t let it all go to waste because his self-control is particularly weak at this moment. 

With that in mind, he sucks in another long breath, sponging one last kiss to the top of Y/N’s kneecap. “Does it all fit nicely?” He asks, voice gravelly with desire as he squeezes her calf. “The dress, the shoes… is it all alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” Y/N whispers, releasing the fabric of Harry’s jacket before it creases, smoothing it with her palms. “It all fits good.”

“Mmm.  Perfect.” His lips twitch against her skin as he drags another searing breath into his lungs. “Anything I give you always fits so fucking good.”

Another flash of heat rises to Y/N’s cheeks, and she nods weakly in response, not trusting her ability to form words. A quiet hum is the only comprehensible noise she can manage. “Mhmm.” 

Harry straightens up the slightest bit, giving her an expectant look as he releases the grip of one hand on her calf to lightly touch the shell of his pierced ear. “Sorry, pet.  Didn’t hear you quite clearly.” He says, his voice taking on a sterner tone. “Did you agree?”

Although embarrassment begins to crawl up Y/N’s spine, it quickly mixes with irritation.  She knows what he’s getting at, and she can’t afford to let herself give in. “Yeah.” She mumbles, keeping her response as short as she can.

Despite the edge beginning to creep into Y/N’s voice, Harry can’t stop himself from pressing the matter.  He never can, really, when he’s in a mood like this.  When his mouth is filled with venom, when his head is throbbing so much that he can hear a steady drumbeat vibrating through his skull.  He can’t stop.

“M’gonna need to hear you say it, I’m afraid.” He raises his ringed hand to the human girl’s chin, gripping it between his thumb and forefinger as he regards her with a firm and conceited gaze. “Speak up, minx.  I know you have no issue with being loud.”

All it takes is that one reminder for all of Y/N’s resolve to fall away, her entire body flooding with warmth as she lets out a trembling sigh.  She swallows the weight in her throat down as much as she can, pinning her eyes to where Harry is gripping her calf with a strong hand. “Everything you give me always fits so good.” She whispers, her voice higher than it was a moment before.

Harry squeezes the backside of her knee once. “Look me in the eyes when you say it.”

Y/N’s entire body feels as if it’s on fire as sweat begins to bead across her forehead, but her mouth is as dry as a desert. She swallows thickly once more, gathering all the composure she can muster. “Everything—” Her voice cracks once, and she clears her throat as Harry’s thumb sweeps across her chin in an encouraging manner. “Everything you give me always fits so good.”

When she completes the task, Harry gropes her knee once more, but this time the action is a show of satisfaction rather than demand.  He trails his fingers up her bent leg to her thigh, only stopping to dig his fingertips into the crease where her backside begins to plump. “That’s my good girl.”

Delicately setting Y/N’s heeled foot back on the ground, Harry rises from the bed, both of her hands grasped in his own to help her remain steady.  Once he’s eye level with his lover once again, he leans forward and stamps a chaste kiss onto her forehead, his lips already tugging into a small grin before he pulls away.

“Y’ready to go, then?” He questions casually, smoothing the thumb of his right hand over her knuckles as his left hand snags the Gucci clutch from the bed, along with Y/N’s phone.  He unclaps the clutch and settles the phone into its silk lining before handing the bag to the human girl.  

Y/N clears her throat once more as she takes a shaky step towards her vanity, grabbing the lipstick she’d applied before and tossing it into the bag, clasping it shut with a final snap. “I suppose so.” She chews on the inside of her cheek as she shoots Harry a nervous glance. “I might need you to carry me down the stairs of my building, though.”

Harry laughs once as he grabs the overnight bag he’d packed with one hand and reclaims Y/N’s left hand in the other. “Don’t worry, pet.  I’ll make sure Cinderella doesn’t lose a shoe.  Or break an ankle.”

“Thanks, Prince Charming.”

“Considering I’m the one that got the dress, I think the Fairy Godmother role fits just a smidge better.”

///

Although it takes careful steps, more than a few stumbles, and Harry’s hand wrapped securely around her waist, Y/N manages to make it down the multiple flights of stairs in her apartment building to Harry’s car waiting below.  After the ten minute car ride into downtown L.A., the majority of which is spent with Harry’s hand sitting perfectly still on Y/N’s exposed thigh, the vampire pulls the car in front of a large restaurant with a line of well-dressed parties winding down the sidewalk.

The restaurant itself, Bella Vita, is one that Y/N’s heard of in passing, but has never experienced firsthand herself, probably because it holds a reputation for being the premier Italian restaurant in all of Los Angeles.  Shock covers her features as she stares out the car window at the grand glass double doors, but only for a moment; after all, could she have expected anything less from Harry, who seems to indulge in luxuries the way most people do chocolate?

When the passenger side door swings open, the surprise returns as Y/N glances up and sees a blonde man she doesn’t know dressed in a suit holding the door open.  The breast of his outfit is embroidered with the restaurant name, but it’s not until Harry, who has already vacated the driver’s side and is behind him, flips the valet his keys.

“Thanks, mate.” Thinly veiled irritation works its way through Harry’s voice as he steps in front of the valet, clapping his large hand over the employee’s shoulder. “I got it from here.”

The valet nods curtly, releasing his grip on the door as Harry extends his hand to Y/N.  The mortal girl grasps it within her own, eager to receive the help he offers as she swings her exposed legs out of the low car and onto the ground. 

“There we go, love.” Harry’s voice softens as he pulls her to stand, giving her a moment to find her balance on her own before sliding his arm around her hips. “Y’alright?”

“I’m fine.” Y/N nods in confirmation as she folds her arms in front of her body, grasping the Gucci clutch in tight hands while she appraises the packed high-end restaurant. “I see why you insisted on the dress now.”

A low laugh rumbles from Harry’s chest as he shuts the car door with his free hand. “I told you, you need to trust me more.  Have a little faith.” He extends his palm towards the valet, shaking his hand quickly and smoothly while sliding him a bill. “Thanks, Leo.”

Leo retracts his hand from Harry’s icy grasp with another respectful nod of his head, slipping the bill into the inside pocket of his suit. “Of course, Mr. Styles.  Enjoy your dinner.”

Y/N watches as the valet hurries to the driver’s side of the car, sliding in and starting the engine with ease as Harry begins to lead Y/N to the door. 

“So…” She quirks an eyebrow as Harry confidently bypasses the long line of people waiting to be seated. “You’re Mr. Styles here, are you?  Do you come here that often?”

Harry lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, releasing his grip on Y/N’s waist to open the large glass door for her. “Every once in a while, I suppose.” He quips, the answer as non-committal as most things Harry says.  Once Y/N steps into the restaurant, the vampire follows closely behind, clutching her warm hand in his own as he leans down to whisper in her ear. “But I wouldn’t say it’s too often—”

“Harry!”

An older man that looks to be in his mid-seventies emerges from behind the corner, dressed in a fine suit and with an animated grin on his tan, weathered face.  He waves off the host at the stand who had been about to approach the two new guests, his arms already outstretched towards Harry.

“Vincenzo!” Harry responds with equal enthusiasm as he lets go of Y/N’s hand to clutch Vincenzo’s between his palms.  He leans forward and pecks two air kisses onto the employee’s cheeks as the older man does the same. “È così bello rivederti. Come stai?” It’s so nice to see you again.  How are you?

Y/N’s eyes widen in utter shock at the fluent Italian that easily slips from Harry’s ruby lips, watching as Vincenzo takes a step back from him with the same excitement as when he first turned the corner.

“Sto bene, grazie. È meraviglioso anche vederti.” I’m well, thank you.  It’s wonderful to see you, too.  Vincenzo’s attention lists over Harry’s shoulder to Y/N, who is still standing behind him with her mouth half open in bewilderment. 

“Grazie ancora per aver riorganizzato la prenotazione per noi.” Thank you again for rearranging the reservation for us.  Harry reaches back and intertwines his fingers with Y/N’s again as another Italian phrase slips off his tongue with practiced ease. “Ti devo un favore.” I owe you a favour.

“Te l'ho già detto, non mi devi niente. Gli amici aiutano gli amici.” I’ve already told you, you don’t owe me anything.  Friends help friends.  Vincenzo raises an eyebrow as he gestures to Y/N, who’s still a half step behind Harry as he carries out the conversation. “A proposito di ... chi è questo, Harry?” Speaking of… Who is this, Harry?

“Perdonami, sono stato scortese.” Forgive me, I’ve been rude.  Letting go of Y/N’s hand, Harry drifts his palm to the small of Y/N’s back, rubbing his thumb over the satin of her dress as he gently guides her forward for a proper introduction. “Vincenzo, sono Y/N, la mia ... amica.  Y/N, questo è Vincenzo, il titolare del ristorante.” Vincenzo, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my… friend.  Y/N, this is Vincenzo Genovesi, the owner of the restaurant.

Y/N’s ears prick up when she hears her name, and she smiles shyly in greeting at the older man. “Hi.” She wants to offer a more formal presentation, but is unsure if he speaks English or not, so she simply extends her hand to shake his. 

Vincenzo’s smile grows as he grasps her hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and planting an innocent kiss to her skin before taking a polite step back. “È così bello conoscerti.  Sei così bello!”

With a gentle squeeze to her love handles, Harry lowers his mouth to Y/N’s ear, his lips barely grazing her sensitive skin as he speaks. “He says it’s lovely to meet you, and that you’re very beautiful.” He translates, and Y/N can feel the way he’s smiling into her hair.

A shiver rolls down her spine as his cool breath meets her neck, but she manages to ignore the sensation, and instead sends a grateful smile in Vincenzo’s direction. “Oh… Thank you.  Grazie.” She tacks on, and although she tries her best to mimic Harry’s Italian accent, the way the immortal’s body tenses against her side as he represses a laugh tells her that she didn’t pass the test.

Vincenzo, however, waves off Harry’s amused expression, flipping his hand airily in his direction before taking Y/N’s again. She finds out that he indeed does speak English, and it comes out with a thick accent that holds so much genuine kindness, she immediately takes a strong liking to the aged gentleman. “Wipe that grin off your face, cretino, at least she’s trying!” He pats Y/N’s hand reassuringly, shaking his head with a disappointed scoff. “The last time he brought someone here, they spent the entire time doing a Godfather impression.  And it wasn’t even a good one!”

“How many times do I have to apologize for bringing Niall until you let me forget it?” Harry sighs in exasperation, his hand snaking around Y/N tighter than before. “I’ve already forbidden him from coming back.”

Shaking his head with a hearty laugh, Vincenzo pats Y/N’s hand once more before stepping back to the host stand and grabbing two leather-bound menus from the shelf. “I will never forget, Harry.  But don’t worry; I’ve still reserved your favourite table in the back of the restaurant.  Come, bella donna,” He tucks the menus underneath his arm as he gently loops Y/N’s arm through his own, tugging her from Harry’s grasp as he begins to lead her away from the entrance. “Let me escort you to the table, yes?”

Y/N allows Vincenzo to lead her, but glances over her shoulder to meet Harry’s amused gaze as he trails behind them, large hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks as his eyebrows poise teasingly.  The table in question, she discovers, is tucked away in a private corner of the restaurant, framed by a plethora of flora and candles that reflect back on the stone walls.  

Although Vincenzo releases her arm to retract Y/N’s chair, Harry beats him to it, pulling the seat out smoothly and waiting until Y/N is seated comfortably to push the back of it in.  He brushes his cool hand over her shoulder, nudging a loose curl away from her bare neck while offering her a dimpled smile.

As Harry takes his own seat across from her, the older Italian man gives him a knowing look, his eyes glinting with mirth. “Solo un amica, eh?” Just a friend, eh?

The vampire half rolls his eyes, nodding his head slightly as he lays the cloth napkin over his thigh, voice stubbornly flat. “Sì. Solo un amica.” Yes.  Just a friend.

Vincenzo sets a menu down before each of them, clicking his tongue in unconvinced disbelief. “Non guardi un amica come l'hai appena guardata.” You don’t look at a friend the way you just looked at her.

Flipping his menu open with disinterest, Harry makes a bored sound in the back of his throat, waving off Vincenzo with a leisurely gesture. “Vorrei la carta dei vini, Vincenzo, non la tua opinione non richiesta.” I’d like the wine list, Vincenzo, not your unsolicited opinion.

A laugh echoes from the older man’s belly as he shakes his head in amusement, taking a step away from the table. “Certo, Signor Styles.  Lo farò portare subito dal cameriere.” Certainly, Mr. Styles.  I’ll have the waiter bring it right away.  

Turning his attention back to Y/N, Vincenzo takes her hand and kisses it once more. “Bella donna,” He begins, heaving a long sigh. “It was lovely to meet you.  And if this one ever gives you trouble,” he gestures to Harry with a nod, giving her a playfully wink,  “I have five grandsons that would die for the opportunity to dine with a woman as beautiful as yourself.”

Harry’s face hardens at the comment, but Y/N laughs at the joke, squeezing Vincenzo’s hand before releasing it. “Thank you, Vincenzo.  It was so nice to meet you… Next time I come, you’ll have to teach me some Italian.” She adds, glancing at Harry as the curiosity of what they discussed before burns a hole in her belly.

The moment Vincenzo leaves the pair to their own devices, the mortal girl leans forward, the inquiry already falling off her lips. “Speaking of Italian…” She runs her finger around the stem of her empty wine glass, cocking her head to the side. “What were you and Vincenzo talking about?”

Harry waves off her question just as he did Vincenzo’s comments. “Nothing important.  Don’t worry,” a sly grin works its way onto his lips as he smoothly changes the subject, “he wasn’t offering to set me up with his granddaughters, if that’s what you were worried about.  It seems he only wants you in the family.”

“Who wouldn’t?  I’m a delight.” Y/N remarks, a wry smile raising the corners of her lips. “But seriously, Harry— where did you learn to speak fluent Italian?”

The answer rolls off his tongue as easily as the language did. “Italy.” He states simply, as if it should be obvious.

And it’s not a lie; he really did learn in Italy.  It just happened to be during the early 1900s, when he had been bouncing around between Florence, Venice, and Rome.  He’d liked Italy, actually, and would’ve stayed there longer, but then an Archduke was assassinated, and Harry had to return to Britain to fight in what was then called “the War To End All Wars.” Harry had figured that he might as well, given that he could shrug off bullet wounds as easily as a knick, and could use his blood to help heal other soldiers when travesties struck. The Italian, it turned out, had come in handy as he fought his way through Europe, but considering the bloody conditions under which he did so, Harry much prefers using it to woo a lovely girl in an expensive restaurant.

“Italy.” Y/N repeats the word in a deadpan voice, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair, kinking an eyebrow stubbornly. “When were you in Italy?”

Ah, Harry thinks, habitually rubbing his thumb over his ruby lips.  It seems a little white lie is necessary. “During uni.  I did a semester abroad.”

For a moment, he thinks that Y/N doesn’t buy the fib.  Her other eyebrow quirks upwards to meet its partner, but her gaze remains as suspicious as it has been since she first asked the question.  When she finally opens her mouth to speak, there’s a small, irrational part of Harry that thinks she might prod for more. 

“What do you mean, ‘a semester abroad’?” She questions, and Harry is about to over-explain when her posture suddenly relaxes, her arms returning to her sides as an easygoing laugh falls from her mouth, a seemingly entertaining realization dawning on her. “Wait, you grew up in England!  You already lived abroad!”

A breathless and relieved chuckle rolls out of Harry as his shoulders drop, the tension rolling out of him as he leans forward. “I suppose that’s true, hm?” He hums, reaching for Y/N’s warm hand and tugging it onto the table to intertwine her fingers with his own. “I really just went a few doors down the neighborhood, didn’t I?”

“You really did.” Y/N sighs wistfully, drifting her thumb over the back of Harry’s knuckle without a second thought. “I’m jealous, though.  I wish I had gone away for school, even just to a different state.  I could’ve been living in Washington, or Oregon, or New York.  It would’ve been so nice.”

The corners of Harry’s lips weigh down into a frown as he considers the possibilities laced into the comment. “I suppose, but…” He casts his gaze towards their knitted hands.  Hers looks so much smaller wrapped inside his. “If you did, then you might not have moved to L.A.  And then we wouldn’t have—”

“Good evening, Mr. Styles, Miss Y/L/N.” A waiter that Harry hasn’t met before appears beside the table with a wine menu clasped in one hand and a basket of bread in the other.  

The server is younger than others Harry has seen before, but Harry knows Vincenzo hires his staff carefully, and that he wouldn’t send anyone too inexperienced to take care of Harry.  From the sweat beading his brow, the vampire can tell that Vincenzo has given the waiter a speech about Harry’s status with the restaurant owner, and the thought brings a small spark of satisfaction to him.  However, that satisfaction disappears the moment he sees the waiter’s eyes linger on Y/N a moment longer than needed. He nods kindly to both of them, but the immortal can’t evade the small spark of irritation that zips down his spine at the employee’s subtle interest in his companion.  Shifting in his seat, Harry tightens his grasp on Y/N’s hand, but keeps his demeanor neutral and polite.  It’s not like he can blame the poor boy, really.  Not when Y/N’s silky lips are sheathed in such a breathtaking shade of red.

“My name is Luca, and I’ll be your server for tonight.” He shifts his attention back to Harry as he sets the bread basket on the table before extending the small leatherbound menu to him. “Here’s the wine list you asked for, Mr. Styles.  I’ll give you some time to look it over, and then I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.”

Although his right hand is closer to the server, Harry reaches for the menu with his left in order to maintain his grasp on Y/N’s. “Thank you, Luca.  I appreciate it.”

Luca nods once as he takes a step back from the table, clasping his hands behind his back. “Prego, signore.” You’re welcome, sir. 

Harry’s eyebrow jolts up in mild surprise. “Oh, parli italiano?” Oh, you speak Italian?  He asks, the flip in language gliding down his tongue without so much as a second thought. Harry hadn’t expected it, given that the young man’s natural accent is as American as can be. 

Pausing on the ball of his foot, Luca nods as colour begins to rise to his cheeks. “Sì, signore, la mia famiglia è italiana.  Mia nonna mi ha insegnato a parlarlo quando ero giovane.” Yes, sir, my family is Italian.  My grandmother taught me to speak it when I was very young.

“Tua nonna è una signora molto intelligente, allora.” Your grandmother is a very smart lady, then.  Harry’s mind drifts back to his own upbringing, when his mother would gather him and his sister around the table on Sunday nights, reading them Latin passages by candlelight.  The memory brings a sad smile to his face. “Grazie per il menu. Lo daremo un'occhiata.” Thank you for the menu.  We’ll take a look at it.

Luca nods again, but there’s hesitation in the motion as his eyes drift to Y/N once more, flickering from her own gaze back down to her crimson lips. “Is there anything I can get you before I go, miss?  Some water, perhaps?”

Y/N sends a bright smile to the young man, nodding her head as a strand of her curled hair loosens from its pin. “Yes, please.  And thank you.”

“Due acque, Luca.” Two waters, Luca.  Harry interjects, clearing his throat quietly as he catches the human boy’s eye, giving a curt jut of his chin that signals he’s done ordering for the time being. “Grazie.”

Y/N reaches for the basket of bread the moment Luca has scurried away, her eyes lighting up as she hears the first slice crackle open. “Ooh, garlic bread.” She thrums happily as she takes a small bite while being mindful of her red lipstick, setting the rest of the bread on her side plate as she chews slowly and indulges the flurry of delicious flavors. She talks lightly over a semi-full mouth, careful as to not give Harry an unpleasant eyeful. “So what’s on the menu for drinks?  I’m assuming you’re, like, an expert on wine, right?”

Harry’s lips twitch as he bites back a laugh at the hint of annoyance in her voice. “What makes you say that?”

“You shop Gucci like it’s Target, you speak Italian, you’re a regular at this place…” Y/N’s eyes sweep over their private corner of the restaurant before sending a teasing glance to Harry. “Being a sommelier on the side just seems like something to add to the list of things you’re infuriatingly good at.”

Despite the small jab, a satisfied smile settles on Harry’s lips as he squeezes Y/N’s hand. “You really are good at stroking my ego, aren’t you, dove?  I suppose we can add that to the list of things you’re infuriatingly good at?”

The familiar comment brings Y/N back to the night the two of them met, in a dark and deafening club that’s the complete opposite of their current location.  She twists her fingers within Harry’s, flipping their hands to examine his palm as memories float through her mind like movie scenes.  How Harry had looked when he first walked over, the soothing and seductive tone of his voice, how she’d done her best to match his flirtatious compliments… how he’d kissed her in his car before taking her back to her apartment.  She should’ve known then, Y/N thinks, that she wouldn’t have been able to let someone like Harry be just a one night stand. 

“I guess I’ll allow you to add it.” Y/N murmurs teasingly as she clasps their hands together once more. “But, unfortunately for me, wine knowledge is not on that list, so… you pick something.  I trust your taste.”

“Alright, then.  No pressure for me.” Harry jokes, snapping his gaze from her hypnotizing irises to peruse the menu once more. “Would you like red, white, or rosé?”

The human hums as she considers the question, pursing her lips in thought, as if the answer she gives is life or death. “Red, I think.” She replies, watching as Harry’s brow furrows in thought while shifting his eyes to the red wine list. 

A moment later, Luca appears again with two glasses of ice water balanced on a tray, which he sets down on the table before each of them.  While both of them offer a murmur of thanks, it’s only Y/N’s show of gratitude that incites a darkening of his cheeks.

Another thread of irritation flares down Harry’s spine, but he forces himself to dampen it down with a reminder that if he were the one waiting on Y/N— rather than being the one sitting across from her— he’d probably be doing the exact same thing. “Penso che abbiamo preso una decisione, Luca.” I think we’ve made a decision, Luca.  He says with a tight smile, snapping the wine menu shut and handing it back to the young man. “Prendiamo due bicchieri del tuo cabernet sauvignon, per favore.” We’ll have two glasses of your cabernet sauvignon, please.

Luca nods as he accepts the menu, his eyes flickering to Y/N’s ruby lips yet again. That’s three times in the last ten minutes...not that the vampire’s counting or anything. 

“Ovviamente. Li prendo per te che scrivi.” Of course.  I’ll get those for you right away. The server answers politely before tucking the menu under his arm and hurrying off.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Y/N says the moment the waiter is gone, her eyes alight with amusement as she pulls her hand from Harry’s to take a sip of her ice water. “But I can’t ignore it.”

Clearing his throat as he reaches for a slice of garlic bread, Harry slinks his head to the side before answering. “Ignore what?” He asks offhandedly, taking a bite of his bread and chewing it slowly.  Had Luca’s fascination with her crimson smile not gone unnoticed?  Or had Harry’s aggravation begun to show on his face?

“The Italian.” Y/N admits, setting her glass down and sitting forward as she rests her bent elbows on the table, propping her head upon her interlocked fingers. “I feel a bit left out, and, truthfully, a little jealous.  I want to learn.”

A playful laugh echoes from Harry’s throat as he taps a ringed finger against the table. “I can’t exactly teach you an entire language over one dinner, sweetheart.  I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

“Hm.  I know.  It’s tragic.” Y/N sighs, giggling quietly at the way Harry’s laughter cuts off completely and is replaced with a wounded sound of protest. “But what about some important phrases?  Just so I’m not in the dark all evening while you play Roman Holiday?”

Harry prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright.  Why don’t we start with Mi dispiace?”

“Mi dispiace.” Y/N repeats slowly, trying her best to wrap her red lips around the Italian diction. “What does that mean?”

“It means ‘I’m sorry’, which one could say in reference to, oh, I don’t know…” Harry shrugs lightly, matching the motion with a theatrical dejected sigh. “Insinuating that your date is without certain… talents?”

Although Y/N laughs again, she reaches across the table and wraps her hand around Harry’s, trying to tamp down the mirth in her voice when she replies. “Mi dispiace.” She repeats again, giving Harry her best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“That’s passable, I suppose.” Harry props his chin up in his palm, rubbing his thumb over his pillowy lips in thought. “And then we have ti perdono— I forgive you.”

“How kind of you, Mr. Styles.” Y/N simpers, biting her tongue between her teeth to hold back more sounds of glee. “Give me another one.”

Harry regards her with a thoughtful air, his hand sliding from his mouth to his hair to tug on his styled curls before traveling back down to rest on the table. His voice comes out a tad deeper, a vein of sultriness running beneath it that she just barely detects. “Sei molto bella con quel vestito.”

One of the words tweaks Y/N’s memory from earlier, but she still traces a finger over Harry’s initial rings as she locks eyes with him expectantly. “What does that mean?”

Swiping his tongue over his lips, Harry peers at her through his thick lashes as he encircles his free hand around the stem of his water glass. “You look very beautiful in that dress.”

A pleasurable flush rolls through Y/N’s belly at the compliment.  No matter how many times Harry pays her a positive comment, she somehow always still feels a rush with each word that falls from his soft lips. “Thank you.” She mumbles shyly, tucking her thumb between Harry’s ring and pinkie finger. “I mean— grazie.” 

“Try saying it back to me.” Despite the encouraging words that are said under the guise of teaching, there’s an undercurrent of command that turns the satisfaction in Y/N’s tummy to anticipation. “Molto bella.”

The mortal’s eyes flicker between Harry’s own emerald irises and his mouth as he curls a ringed finger over her hand, stroking the icy digit over her heated skin. “Molto bella.” She repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Fantastico, tesoro.” The praise slips easily from his lips as he lets himself bask in the warmth her flesh brings to his. 

“‘Tesoro’,” Y/N repeats, a tinge of confusion settling onto her face. “What does that mean?”

“It’s, uh,” Harry scoffs to himself in realization, unaware he had even let the term fall from his mouth. “It— well, it means ‘treasure,’ but it’s kind of the Italian equivalent of ‘darling’.”

The vampire can hear the way Y/N’s heartbeat spikes, sending a new wave of blood to warm her cheeks. “That—” The human girl mimics the way he’d cleared his earlier as she reaches for her water glass. “That’s pretty.”

“It is, yeah.  You’ll probably be hearing it often.” Harry continues to drag the pad of his finger down the ridges of his lover’s knuckles as a fond smile crescents his Cupid’s bow. “And here’s another one you’ll be hearing often— piegarsi.”

Y/N pauses with her water raised halfway to her lips. “And what does that one mean?”

Harry waits until her mouth has reached the rim of the glass and she’s taken a sip of ice water. “Bend over.” 

The response is instantaneous, just as he’d imagined. The mortal chokes on her water, coughing up a storm as she quickly lowers the drink from her mouth, half bending over the table and yanking her hand from his as her cheeks light with fire. “Harry!” She gasps once she regains her breath, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone else at the restaurant overheard his lewd statement. 

“What?” He asks innocently, but quickly gives into snickering, his body curling over the table as he cackles. “I’m not wrong!  You really will be hearing it often, so you should know what it means!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to say it in public!” Y/N exclaims hotly, shooting him a look of irritated disbelief that’s exaggerated to hide the boiling that’s working its way into her stomach.

Still chuckling every few moments, Harry reaches for her hand once again, interlocking their fingers and bringing her palm to his mouth. “Alright,” He kisses her heated palm while gazing at her through half lidded eyes. “Alright, I’m sorry.  Mi dispiace, tesoro.”

Y/N purses her painted lips, but sighs in defeat after a few moments of Harry’s moony eyes boring into her own. “Fine.  I forgive you.  Ti perdono.”

Although the annoyance has faded from Y/N’s complexion, Harry still keeps her hand flushed to his lips, stamping kisses to a new area of skin with unpatterned frequency.  He’s not certain if her warmth is just her or the residual embarrassment, but he doesn’t care.  It’s just nice, he thinks, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiles at Y/N from across the table.  It’s comfortable.

“I have your glasses of cabernet sauvignon, Mr. Styles.” Luca interrupts from beside Harry, who had been so focused on the feeling of Y/N skin against his that he hadn’t noticed the waiter’s return. 

Harry gently lowers Y/N’s hand from his mouth, setting her palm down on the table with care. “Grazie.” Harry says casually, straightening his posture to allow Luca to set the glasses down. 

Y/N does the same, offering the young server a thankful smile once again. “Grazie.” Her voice rings sweetly from behind her lips, her confidence more stable thanks to Harry’s miniature Rosetta Stone lecture. 

“Prego, signorina.” Luca matches the Italian easily, his eyebrows raising in hopeful shock. “Parli anche italiano?” Do you speak Italian, too?

The human girl’s eyes flick to Harry as her mouth falls open without sound, and the immortal reads the distress signal easily. 

“No, lei non—” He cuts himself off in the middle of the address to Luca when he remembers that Y/N doesn’t like being spoken for.  Harry redirects his attention back to her questioning eyes. “I mean— he asked if you speak Italian.”

Y/N gives Harry an appreciative smile before turning back to Luca, the expression turning apologetic. “No, I don’t.  I wish I did, though.”

“It’s a fairly easy language to learn.” Luca tucks his tray underneath his arm as he regards the girl timidly. “And your accent is wonderful already.”

Harry hides his smirk behind his wine glass, stifling the laugh that’s threatening to sound.  The server must be entranced by her beauty, he thinks, because that’s the most blatant lie Harry has heard in a long time.

Y/N, however, accepts the compliment with ease. “Thank you.  It’s not true, but I appreciate the effort to be kind.”

The tips of Luca’s ears redden as he laughs breathlessly. “Are you, um, ready to order?”

“Oh, uh—” Y/N drops her gaze to the unopened menu in front of her before offering an rueful glance at the waiter. “I still need a few minutes, I think.”

“That’s alright, take your time.  I’ll be back shortly.” Luca assures her, turning to Harry and giving one last nod of acknowledgement before leaving them again.

Despite already having the menu of the restaurant memorized, Harry slides the leatherbound cover open, dragging a ringed finger down the smooth pages as he feigns searching for a dish. “You know…” He flits his gaze to Y/N’s face as an amused grin begins to tug at the corners of his mouth. “That’s really not fair of you.”

Y/N looks up from her own opened menu the moment Harry speaks, a bemused shadow falling over her face. “What’s not fair of me?”

Harry reaches for his wine glass as he laughs gently, shaking his head before taking a small sip of the smooth cabernet. “Being so charming to Luca.  The poor boy looks like he’s going to pass out each time you speak to him.”

Her cherry lips curve into an exasperated smile as she rolls her eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.” She states, turning her attention back down to the cursive menu. 

“Oh, you don’t, do you?” Harry replies dryly, quirking an eyebrow as he sets his beverage back down on the table. “So you’re not noticing how his eyes are glued to your mouth every time you say something?”

“Nope,” Y/N pops her lips on the last consonant sound of the word as she reaches for her own wine glass. “Because it’s not happening.  We’re just talking, H.  He’s the waiter; he has to look at me.”

“Right.” Harry drags the word out, completely unconvinced. His own eyes glue to Y/N’s lips as they wrap around the edge of her glass, his throat growing slightly parched as he studies the way they curve in a manner that he deems practically flawless. “So do you think the way he’s staring at your tits is also in his job description, then?”

Y/N snorts at the snarky remark, lowering her glass to rest just in front of her chest. “You’re the one who picked out a dress with such a low neckline.” She unwraps her index finger from the wine glass to point it at him in an accusatory manner. “Why did you get it, then, if you didn’t want my tits out on display?”

Harry takes a swig of his own wine as he fights back a laugh at her bold statement. “Let me fill you in on a little secret, mi amore.” He says, lowering his voice and setting down his delicate glass with a muted thud. “The main reason I got it…” The vampire watches the way Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels the snakeskin tip of his boot brush against the back of her bare calf beneath the table. “Is because I’m curious to see what it would look like as a crumpled heap at the bottom of my staircase.”

The toe of his boot travels higher up her leg, circling around the bend of her knee before just barely grazing the soft flesh of her lower outer thigh.  Y/N does her best to control her breathing, but the effort is in vain when the cold metal zipper presses against her dimpled skin. 

“Harry…” His name leaves her crimson lips in a warning tone as she glances around the restaurant, eyeing the closest couple five tables away. 

“‘M excited to see it later, y’know? Been thinking about ripping it off ever since I zipped you into it.” Harry drags the toe of his boot back down her leg, coasting it lightly against her ribbon-wrapped ankle in small and concise motions. “But I suppose I’ll just have to be a bit more patient.  At least I’ll be seeing you like that; poor Luca could only dream of it.”

The human girl clears her throat quietly, taking another measured sip of her wine as she wills herself to steady. “The only thing poor about Luca is that he’s going to come back to the table and I still won’t know what I want.” She shifts her attention back to the open menu, ignoring the eye roll she receives from her lover across the table as she looks over the Italian in front of her. “I don’t know what any of this is.”

“Let me help, cara— which means, ‘dear,’ by the way.” Harry says in an amused voice, dropping his gaze to the cursive menu. “Do you want fish?  Pasta?  Red meat?  Chicken?”

“Maybe pasta.” Y/N murmurs in reply, running a finger down the booklet page as she reads over the Italian descriptions.  Her eyes catch the prices next to dishes, and she nearly gasps, but bites back the sound of surprise at the last moment.

“Alright…” Scanning down the pasta list, Harry bookmarks a few dishes he thinks Y/N may like. “You’d enjoy the ‘Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe’, I think.” He muses, rubbing a finger over his chin in thought. “Or the ‘Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto’.  That’s kind of like pasta— it’s a potato dumpling, and you can choose if you want a meat or gorgonzola sauce.”

“That sounds good.” Y/N finds the mentioned items on the menu, her eyes sweeping over the Italian descriptions to try and pick out the words Harry mentioned. “I think I’ll go with the last one, with the gorgonzola sauce.” Taking a sip of her wine to seal her decision, Y/N poses a question to Harry. “What are you thinking of having?”

“I’m not sure…” Harry lifts his shoulder in a careless shrug as he continues to scan the menu. “I have a few favourites, and those are always solid choices.  The lamb is quite good here; I haven’t had that in a while.”

As Harry peruses his decisions, Y/N begins to chew on the inside of her cheek, narrowly avoiding her habit of biting her lips and ruining the raspberry lacquer she’d painted on earlier as an idea forms in her head. 

“Harry,” She begins, waiting until he raises his jade eyes to meet hers before continuing. “When Luca comes back over…” The girl chooses her words carefully, doing her best to voice her question in the most understandable way. “Could you order for me?”

Just as she suspected he might, Harry rests his menu back down against the table, giving his whole attention to Y/N as his brows furrow. “You want me to order for you?” He asks, confusion threaded through his accent as his mind flips back to their first date, when Y/N had nearly skinned him alive for attempting to do just that. “Why?”

She shifts in her seat under his hot gaze, her own eyes dropping to her lap as her cheeks sear. “It’s— It’s in Italian, so it’ll probably be easier if you say it.”

Harry shakes his head in disagreement as he tries to reassure his date. “No, doll, it’s alright if you say it in English.  Luca will get it.  And if worse comes to worse—” He cracks a smile, tapping a bejeweled finger against the booklet. “Y’can just point.  He’ll get the gist.”

Despite the solutions offered, Y/N continues to shift around, her foot bumping against Harry’s boot as a soft sigh falls from her lips.  She’d hoped Harry would’ve just accepted the request on her first try, but he seems determined not to repeat his mistake from their first date, which means Y/N has to get a lot more honest.

“No, H, I want…” She purses her lips as she twists her fingers around the stem of her wine glass, gently swirling the dark liquid inside. “I want you to order for me.”

The smile on his face darkens into a befuddled expression. “I mean, I can,” Harry says slowly, closing the menu and sliding it onto the table as he appraises the girl across from him. “But I’m a little confused on your reasoning.  Last time I tried to order for you, you said I was trying to make decisions for you—”

“And you were,” Y/N can’t help but to defend herself, flashing a stormy look at Harry from beneath her lashes. “That’s why I’m telling you what I’d like now.”

Harry’s mouth gapes open as he stares at Y/N with a blank expression.  A scoffing laugh finally falls from his lips as he shakes his head again, reaching for his wine and bringing the glass to his lips. “You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met, d’you know that?”

Y/N lets a beat of silence fall between them as she rethinks her question and how best to phrase it in a way that still lets her feel like she’s living in the twenty-first century. “I mean I— you said that it was polite, right?  At that brunch.  Your mom taught you it was a sign of respect.” Her eyes fall to the opal ring sitting on his pinky, sparkling in the candlelight like it always does.

Harry lowers his glass, watching Y/N with a guarded gaze. “Yeah.” He murmurs, licking his lips once as he places his cup back on the table. “She did, yeah.”

“And you’ve gone to a lot of trouble tonight— the dress, the reservation, everything— and I just— I wanted to—” The more Y/N tries to articulate her thoughts, the more tangled her thoughts become, and she sucks in a harsh breath of frustration. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

Although Harry has a suspicion about her meaning, he doesn’t try to finish her sentence.  The last thing he wants to do is make Y/N feel like he’s trying to speak over her. “It’s alright.” He says instead, snaking his hand across the table to weave her fingers through his. “Take your time, tesoro.”

Heeding his advice, Y/N takes a moment to just focus on the feeling of Harry’s cool fingers wrapped around hers, and allows her thoughts to gather themselves together on their own.  When she tries again, her speech is hesitant, but less frustrated than before.

“I think I… understand you more now.” She mumbles the words, keeping her eyes glued to the shining stones that adorn Harry’s rings. “When you do things that I’m not used to… I know you’re doing them out of kindness, and not because you think I’m incapable.” Raising her stare to meet Harry’s entrancing emerald eyes, Y/N takes a deep breath before continuing. “You’ve done a lot to make me comfortable, and I appreciate it, so… I want to do something for you.  It’s no Gucci dress—” Y/N laughs breathlessly, her cheeks flushing again as her intent flickers away from Harry’s own for just a moment before— to his relief— returning. “— but you were taught it was a sign of respect, like opening a door, or pulling out a chair.  So if you want to order for me… you can.” She finishes in a quiet voice. “If you’d like to.”

A slow smile spreads over Harry’s strawberry lips as Y/N wraps up her speech. “Really?” He asks, his voice hushed with delight. “And you won’t accuse me of treating you like you’re incapable?”

Y/N’s eyes flash to him in a darkened glare, but her tone holds a jesting bite. “Not unless you piss me off.”

A soft exhale of air leaves Harry’s nostrils, the beginnings of a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He quips in return, catching Luca’s eye over Y/N’s shoulder as the waiter approaches the table again.

Although his body is turned towards Harry, Luca’s eyes canvas Y/N once more, the action bolder this time as his irises spend longer resting on her cleavage after observing her tinted pout.  The lengthened look grates against Harry’s nerves, and he clears his throat in a slightly irritated manner to call the young man’s attention back his way.

“Oh, uhm—” Luca’s ears redden as he turns back to Harry, clearing his throat as he steadies himself. “Sei pronto per ordinare, signor Styles?” Are you ready to order, Mr. Styles?

“Sì,” Harry replies curtly, tapping his thumb against Y/N’s soft hand. “Y/N vorrebbe gli Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto con la salsa al gorgonzola, e io prendo il filet mignon, cotto raro, per favore.” Y/N will have the Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto with the gorgonzola sauce, and I’ll have the filet mignon, cooked rare, please. He says smoothly, and he can’t deny the satisfied pleasure that curls inside his belly when he sees the gentle eyes Y/N gives him across the table.

Luca nods once as he takes the menus from the two of them, careful to keep his eyes away from Y/N’s mouth as he gathers her leatherbound copy and scuttles off to submit their orders to the kitchen.

“Okay.” Y/N says reluctantly, squeezing Harry’s hand within her own with a sigh as she watches the waiter disappear. “I will admit, I did notice his eyes drifting a little low there.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Harry asks, eyes widening in dramatized disbelief.  He wills himself to keep a triumphant grin off his face, but knows he doesn’t quite succeed. “Did you just admit I was right?  Did that just happen?”

“Oh, shut up.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N shakes her head as she takes another bite of garlic bread, her tongue poking from her mouth to catch a crumb at the corner of her lip. “If you’re going to act like such a child, I’ll take it back.”

Harry brings her knuckles to his mouth, brushing them against his lips in a tender motion. “I’m just trying to savour the moment, angel.” His cool breath crawls over her skin, eliciting a shiver from the human girl that he adores. “Who knows when I’ll get to experience it again.”

“Never, if I have any say in it.”

“Should we ask Luca to weigh in on this little debate, too? You know, since he’s practically as acquainted with you as I am.” 

“Bite me.”

The monster’s dimples wink at the irony of her insult, and his voice carries a knowing edge that only he can decipher. “Don’t I always?”

They fall into their usual rhythm after that, easily discussing what each of them had been up to throughout the week during their gaps away from the other.  Those gaps, Harry realizes as he listens to a work story from Y/N, are becoming shorter and shorter. He’d swung by Y/N’s cafe for lunch on Thursday to order a mediocre at best sandwich, and indulge in a far from mediocre makeout session in the back of his car.  And watching Y/N hurriedly tighten her ponytail while she stumbled away from his Cadillac, cheeks flaming as she nearly ran to the employee entrance around the back of the building before her break ended, had prompted Harry to call her that night for a long overdue phone sex session.  

Even after they had both helped the other reach climax, and post-orgasm photos had been sent (Harry had received a picture of Y/N stretched out on her bed, her face visibly heated and chest sweaty as she wore nothing but his “enjoy health” t-shirt, and in return, he’d sent a snapshot of his cum-covered abdomen, fingers resting delicately at the edge of his butterfly tattoo), the vampire and human had stayed on the line as they both caught their breath.  Harry had followed the nude photo with a picture of him posing with a glass of water and a thumbs up, smiling grandly amidst his colored cheeks and sweaty curls, captioning it “Make sure to hydrate after a workout!” The energy it took to take the self-timed photo was worth it when he’d heard Y/N’s laugh tumble out from the opposite end of the line. 

It’s the same carefree laugh that she’s trying to stifle now, her hand pressed over her mouth and nose as her eyes send an apologetic glance at Luca setting her plate of gnocchi down in front of her.

“Thank you, Luca,” She manages to choke out, wiping her eyes with the edge of her thumb to stop the saltwater threatening to rush down her heated cheeks. “It looks delicious.”

Harry nods in agreement as the waiter sets his own dish in front of him, his mischievous smirk still shining at Y/N from across the table. “Grazie.” He says as he curls his lips around his newly topped off wine glass.

Y/N bites her tongue to hold back the continuous laughter that’s on the verge of bursting from her chest like a dam.  With every moment Harry keeps his eyes locked on hers, the human girl has to press her lips harder and harder together, and barely manages to wait until Luca has left them again to release the wave of giggles that crest out of her chest.

“Something amusing?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he sets his glass down, hardly able to hold back his own laughter as couples seated away from them begin to take notice of the boisterous sounds.

“You—” Y/N sucks in a ragged breath, half snorting once more as she manages to calm herself enough to take a small sip of wine.  The liquid soothes the raw ache in her throat that is practically raw from the convulsed snickers. “You did not say that to him!”

“I did.” Harry answers smugly, adjusting the napkin covering the light grey fabric stretched over his lap before picking up his knife and fork. “He was too certain that no girl had ever faked it with him just because of a leg shake.  I couldn’t let him live in that delusion; it’d be a crime, really.  Just plain cruel.”

“Oh, right, like telling your friend that all the girls he’s been with have been faking it isn’t cruel?” She gently sets down her wine glass at the edge of her plate as she voices the retort, shaking her head in disbelief. “Poor Niall.”

“Not Poor Niall!  I was trying to help him!” Despite the claim, Harry can’t stop himself from chuckling out the words. “How’s he going to fix his ways if he doesn’t know anything is wrong?”

“Alright, so riddle me this, then, Dr. Phil.” Y/N picks up her fork, spearing a piece of gnocchi and holding the chunk above her plate as she issues her challenge to Harry. “How did you become the expert in whether or not a girl is faking it?  Do you have a lot of experience with that?”

“Not in the slightest.  I think you know that much.” Just as he did before, Harry begins to slide the tip of his boot up Y/N’s calf, relishing in the slight hitch in her breath and stutter of her heart. “If I’m an expert in anything, it’s how to make someone cum until their legs actually shake.  That’s why I can tell the fake from the real.”

Y/N takes a deep breath through her mouth, closing her eyes for a moment as she forms a coherent reply. “I guess I do know that.” She relents, opening her eyes just in time to see the simper that’s growing again across Harry’s face as he continues to rub up and down her leg with his shoe.  Y/N lifts her fork, carefully slipping the sauce-covered gnocchi into her mouth. “But Niall doesn’t— holy shit.” The mortal gasps as the flavours burst across her tongue, the perfect mix of savoury and salty and drenched in decadence.

“It’s good, innit?” Harry pokes his cheek with his tongue as he slices off a corner of his steak, checking the rarity of the meat before bringing it to his mouth. “There’s a reason this is my favourite restaurant, and it’s not just Vincenzo.”

“It’s fucking delicious.” Y/N can’t think to censor herself as she meticulously chews and swallows the bite, savouring every second before poking another gnocchi onto her fork. “I understand the price now.  It’s still outrageous, but I get it.”

Harry watches the way Y/N’s lashes flutter as she chews her bites, and the satisfaction growing in his belly increases. “High quality is worth paying for.” He states, slicing off another portion of steak. 

Y/N nods slowly, swallowing the food before pointing the prongs of her fork at Harry’s plate. “How’s your filet mignon?” She asks, spearing another bite of gnocchi onto the utensil. “Worth the price point?”

Dragging the bite on his fork through the sauce that’s pooled on his plate, Harry beckons her forward as he extends the piece towards her. “Open your mouth and find out.”

There’s something about the way that Y/N immediately obeys the command— setting down her own fork and leaning across the table to wrap her lips around Harry’s— that sends a shiver down his spine.  With her mouth closed, she slides the cut of beef off the silverware and leans back in her seat, chewing thoughtfully with a contemplative look on her face. 

A drop of sauce is smeared from the bite, dripping from the edge of her mouth, and although it goes unnoticed by Y/N, it’s all Harry can see as he watches her savor the bite of food.  He leans forward more, collecting the droplet on the pad of his thumb, which he brings to his mouth and licks off casually before settling back in his chair.

“Like it, tesoro?” He asks, an expectant look glinting in his eye as he slices off another bite for himself. 

Y/N cocks her head to the side as she swallows, trying her best to focus on the flavour and not the way Harry had been so careful not to smear her lipstick as he touched her. “I like the sauce.  It’s sweet, but has a bit of a kick to it.  The steak, however…” She wrinkles her nose the slightest bit. “It’s a little too rare for my taste, I think.  I’m not really a fan of anything bloody.”

Harry curls his tongue inside his mouth as he allows himself a single laugh. “No?” He questions, spearing a piece of meat and sliding it past his lips. “I can’t say the same.  I like my steaks cooked rare.  The bloodier, the better.” 

“I bet you’re one of those weirdos who orders blue steak, huh?” Y/N asks, taking a gulp of her wine to wash out the taste of the meat. “Like, still cold in the middle, and looking practically raw…”

“Oh, no.  Not at all.” Harry’s chuckles increase, and he has to hide them behind a false cough to stop himself from drawing more attention. “It tastes much better if the meal is warm.”

Although Y/N doesn’t grasp the full meaning behind his words— and thank God she doesn’t, Harry thinks, because she’d probably run screaming from the restaurant— she hums in acknowledgement as she swirls the wine around her glass.

“But you’re enjoying your meal, right?” Harry changes the subject swiftly, deciding he’s indulged his one-sided humour long enough. “I have no problem sending it back if it’s not to your liking.”

The human’s eyes widen as she swiftly sets down her glass, shaking her head at the question. “No, no, it’s delicious!  Probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten, honestly.” She collects another bit on her fork, twirling the potato dumpling through the gorgonzola sauce before motioning to Harry. “Wanna try?”

When Harry nods in response, they slip back into their former position, both of them leaning forward in their seats to meet in the middle of the table.  Y/N slips the fork into his mouth, feeling the resistance as Harry’s white teeth meet the strong metal of the cutlery. 

Just as had happened to her a few moments prior, a small droplet of sauce gathers at the corner of Harry’s mouth as she pulls her fork away.  Y/N collects the sauce with her thumb as Harry had as well, but before she can sit herself back in her chair, Harry captures her wrist within his cool hand. 

Keeping his canopy green eyes locked with hers, the creature slips her thumb into his mouth, licking the remnants of the bite off the digit with his slick tongue.  His boot continues its climb up her leg, just barely reaching her thigh again before traveling back down to plant itself firmly onto the floor of the restaurant.

A quiet gasp leaves Y/N’s mouth as Harry lulls his tongue around her thumb one last time, and the barely audible sound raises his strawberry lips into a hint of a grin as he extracts the finger from his mouth.  With his hand still wrapped around her wrist, Harry brings her open palm forward and plants a delicate kiss to the center of her hand.

“That’s quite good.” Harry finally says nonchalantly, attentively setting Y/N’s hand back down on the table and releasing her wrist from his grasp. “I’ll have to try it the next time we come.”

Y/N struggles to regulate her breathing as she retracts her hand from the table, setting it down in her lap as her fingers involuntarily clench into her heated thigh. “Um, yeah.” She wisps, clearing her throat once as she reaches for a slice of garlic bread. “Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s really good.  The sauce is— it has a nice balance to it, I think, with the thyme…”

“I agree.” Harry wipes his wet finger off on the napkin laying over his thigh. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, don’t you, pet?”

“You would know.” Y/N huffs snidely, cheeks blazing as she reaches for her wine again to extract a heavy gulp of the liquor.  

In the moments of silence that fall between them, Y/N allows herself to canvas the restaurant, observing the interactions of those around her.  True to Vincenzo’s promise of a private spot, the couples nearest to them are all at least five tables away, and partially hidden from view because of the positioning of their corner booth.  However, Y/N’s sharp eyes don’t miss how every formally-dressed staff member, from servers to busboys and hosts, cast their eyes in Harry’s direction each time they pass by.  Some even whisper to their coworkers as they turn the corner, their gazes always lingering on Harry with a mix of awe and wonder.

“Have you noticed how all the staff here watch you?” Y/N asks as she catches the eye of a passing waitress, who offers her a tense smile before sliding her stare towards Harry. 

“Do they?” Harry replies curiously, raising his wine glass to his lips as he lightly shrugs. “I’ve never paid much attention to it.”

“I think Vincenzo’s given them all the update on the prestigious British bachelor, Harry Styles.” Y/N pokes fun, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully as she contemplates Harry with an observant eye. “Or maybe they’ve all just noticed the ridiculous amount of designer labels you insist on wearing.” She teases him with a playful grin, tapping a finger against the Gucci cufflinks on his sleeves. “I feel a bit like a celebrity.”

A modest laugh breaks past Harry’s lips as he lowers the glass, keeping his ringed fingers twisted around the stem. “In my experience, I’ve found you’re treated best when you treat the staff best.  I tip well, so I receive better service.  When I receive better service, I tip more.  It’s a bit of a cycle, isn’t it?” He asks rhetorically, the tip of his boot once again exploring the soft skin of Y/N’s bare leg. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.  I thought I’d test the waters tonight and see how well you like the high life before I arrange anything more… extravagant.”

“More extravagant?” Y/N laughs at the idea, propping her elbow on the table and plopping her chin in her hand as her eyebrows raise. “What could possibly be more extravagant than a Gucci cocktail dress, Loubotin heels, and a fifty dollar pasta dish?”

The answer rolls off Harry’s tongue immediately, slathered in a jesting, matter-of-fact tone. “A trip to the Bahamas, obviously.”

Although Y/N’s eyes widen slightly at the comment, it’s not long before she giggles softly, the wine beginning to twist its way through her system.  Harry can smell the way her lavender and honey scent is intertwined with the dark, fruity notes of the liquor, but even if he couldn’t, it would be obvious in the way she draws towards him with a tender smile on her face.  Despite the dewy appearance of her skin amidst the lulled candlelight, it’s the genuine warmth behind Y/N’s eyes that makes Harry feel like her gaze could thaw the ice from his long-frozen limbs.

It’s that warmth that brings Harry to reach over the table after Luca has cleared their bare plates and refilled their glasses, dragging his hands across the linen tablecloth with his palms turned upwards.  He just can’t ever seem to stifle the need to touch her.

The motion is a quiet question in itself, and Y/N gives the desired answer when she fills his empty grasp with her own palms, automatically tangling her bare fingers with Harry’s jeweled digits. For a moment, Harry just sits there, thumbing over her fragile knuckles in the way he’s grown so accustomed to doing, basking in the heat that congregates in his chest and gives him the feeling that he’s glowing.  He almost hates to break the perfect silence between them, which is so understanding, but he’s been thinking about his words too carefully to swallow them back.

“Thank you for agreeing to let me take you out.” He says, his voice gentle and low, a far cry from his usual cocky drawl. “It’s…It’s been a really long time since I’ve done something like this with anyone, let alone had this much fun doing it.” He takes a quiet breath through barely parted lips. “It’s nice.”

His ears prick with the sound of Y/N’s hummingbird heartbeat thrumming in her chest, the pattern bringing an ache to his tummy in an entirely new way, but the ache is quickly soothed by the soft smile that adorns her crimson lips.

“It’s…It’s been a while for me, as well.  Which you know.” She laughs airily, but is too entranced by the vivid color of Harry’s eyes to tear her gaze away. “I’m having fun, too.  I’m glad— I mean—”

Harry continues to rub over her knuckles patiently, keeping his touch as gentle as she is, making sure to gift her an instance to collect her thoughts.

“I’ll admit, I was… worried at first.  When we started to go on actual dates.” The mortal takes a deep breath through her nose, but it hardly calms her down as she inhales the vanilla and tobacco scent of Harry’s cologne. “We were doing so well with just sex, y’know?  And I was worried that adding more would… ruin it.”

The faint grin playing on the edge of Harry’s mouth disappears, and a chill runs through his bones at the possibility of what they have dismantling at the seams. “But it hasn’t… Has it?”

The seconds Harry spends waiting for an answer is agony, but the relief is instantaneous when Y/N replies in a bashful voice. “No.” She whispers, her gaze faltering down to her lap before raising back to him. “It hasn’t.”

“I feel like…” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, nearly forgetting to be mindful of his strength so as to not break his skin. “I feel like it’s made things better, even.  Like… like we work better together, yeah?” He clears his throat gingerly as nerves begin to dip into his dormant veins.  He knows he’s treading on dangerously thin ice, and he’s never been more at risk of plunging into the freezing depths below, but he can’t make himself return to shore.  Not now. “Not that we weren’t working well before, because we were.  We were working really well— incredibly well.  But I just feel like tacking on this little bit of extra stuff makes everything more fulfilling.”

A wry smile breaks across Y/N’s face. “Right, because who doesn’t love getting wined and dined before getting their back done in?” She jokes easily, and Harry snorts in spite of himself, grateful for how she always manages to save him from making an ass of himself.

“I just really like spending time with you, I guess.” He squeezes her hands within his own before the sincere moment disappears. “It feels natural.  Really natural.”

“It does.  And while we’re confessing our innermost confessions over garlic bread…” The mortal purses her lips as a sparkle appears in her eyes, glinting at Harry like the North Star. “I want you to know how grateful I am for what we have.  I was feeling really lonely and out of place when we met, and running into you…” Y/N hesitates for a fraction of a instant, just long enough for Harry’s own breathing to catch. “It really helped me get back on my feet.  It’s just nice to have someone who I mesh with so well, especially after such a big move and everything, so…” A new wave of heat works its way over the apples of her cheeks. “I suppose this is a bit of a ‘thank you’.  Thanks for coming up to me that night at the club.”

Harry’s lips quirk at the corners as the tender confession settles into his chest. “Thank you for letting me chat you up.  It was a two way street, love.  Although—” His signature smirk begins to make a reappearance. “It’s not like I had to try very hard— you practically drooled the second you laid your eyes on me.”

Y/N’s mouth drops open indignantly as she yanks her hands back from his, rolling her eyes heavily while smoothing the hem of her dress. “Alright, that’s enough.  Moment over, dickhead.  Go back to sipping your wine and looking hot in your suit in silence.”

Although Harry obeys her order and picks up his wine glass with nimble fingers, his eyes grow teasingly large over the rim, accent dripping with faux shock. “You think I’m hot?”

“I’d hope you know that,” Y/N says cooly as she grasps the stem of her own glass. “I don’t let just anyone choke me.”

It’s Harry’s turn to cough on his liquor as he registers the comment, and he struggles not to spill the dark liquid down the front of his brand new suit as he barks out a laugh.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he says after he swallows the drink, setting his glass back down on the table firmly. “I don’t let just anyone use my jacuzzi whenever they want.”

“Right, right, because you allowing me to use your hot tub is equivalent to me letting you wrap your fingers around my throat.” Y/N snorts, drumming her digits against the table top. “Practically identical.”

Harry snakes his hand across the table and cards their grips once more, squeezing her fingers playfully as he taps against her knuckles. “It’s not like you complain while it’s happening.”

“Only because it’s hard to talk when my air flow is restricted.”

“Really?  Because you still manage to moan just fine.”

Harry delights in the way her eyes hurriedly dash to the other diners, her heartbeat stuttering in her heaving chest.  He likes that he can still get a rise out of her with his crude jokes, even after all he’s said to her.

“Christ, Harry, lower your voice!  Don’t let anyone hear you!” Y/N protests, cupping a hand over her sizzling cheek.

“No one can hear me, love.” He chuckles lightly as he reassures her with another squeeze of her fingers. “S’why I always request a private table.”

“Oh, so you have a pattern, then?” She quirks an eyebrow at the comment. “Do you bring women here that often to discuss choking?  So much that you need a private table?”

Although there’s a mocking air to her words, Harry’s laugh cuts off. “No.  I don’t.”

Y/N hums in the back of her throat as she raises her wine glass to her lips. “I don’t believe you.  I think I’ll ask Vinzenco on our way out.  He seems like an honest man.”

Cool relief flushes through Harry’s body, but he hides it behind an incredulous gasp. “So what I’m hearing is that you’re interested in him.  Do you want Vincenzo to choke you instead?” His face breaks into a look of exaggerated disbelief tinged with fake disgust. “He’s married, you tramp!”

Y/N can’t help but laugh when Harry yanks his hand away from hers, pretending to wipe it on his napkin while gagging, as if touching her is a horrendous act. 

“I hate you.” She giggles, shaking her head slowly. 

“I promise you that no matter how much you hate me, Vincenzo’s wife would hate you tenfold.” Harry shakes out his hand before setting it back down on the table. 

“Don’t worry.” Y/N rolls her eyes at the exaggeration. “I don’t plan on breaking up a marriage tonight.”

“How gracious of you.” Harry murmurs, but he leans forward with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shamelessly canvasses Y/N’s body. “You could, you know.  Vincenzo is only a man.  Look how you had Poor Luca drooling tonight.  You in that dress…” He settles his eyes on her prominent cleavage. “Y’look like Aphrodite, almost.”

Despite the heat that flashes over Y/N’s entire body, she keeps her voice dry when she responds. “I don’t know about that; this isn’t much of a grecian look.”

“Well…” A grin creeps onto Harry’s face, igniting his jade irises with humour. “You look like Aphrodite if Aphrodite was a twenty-first century sugar baby.”

Y/N’s mouth drops open before she spits out an indignant reply. “I’m not a sugar baby!”

“Sorry, who bought you that dress?”

“That doesn’t count—”

“And who do you call ‘daddy’?”

Harry can hear the way blood rushes to her cheeks, and it sends a delicious shiver down his spine. 

Y/N, however, glares up at him through her thick lashes, her hands twisting the cloth napkin in her lap. “You’re a prick.”

“I’m simply stating facts, darling.” Harry sighs lightly, ducking one of his hands underneath the table and reaching to give her bare knee a squeeze.  He revels in the way she jumps at his touch. “And I’ve got videos of you whimpering that over and over to prove it.”

“If you keep this up,” Y/N says, forcing her voice to stay steady as she nods to his grasp on her skin. “You won’t be getting any more of them.”

“Is that so?” Harry’s hand travels further up her leg, the metal of his rings icy against the heated flesh of her inner thighs. “Guess you won’t be getting any more videos of me playing with myself either, then.  Fair’s fair.”

The whimper that falls from Y/N’s lips is so quiet that if Harry were human, he wouldn’t have been able to detect it. “Harry—” 

“You don’t like that, do you?” He taunts lowly, continuing to rub over her thigh as he leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “The idea of me taking that away? Of never seeing me lose myself for you on video ever again?”

Y/N clears her throat thickly. “N-No.”

“I didn’t think so.” With his free hand, Harry lifts his wine to his lips, taking a long sip as his darkened eyes stay locked to hers. “So you’d better behave for me then, hm?”

Despite the electrifying way her entire body is starting to fizzle, Y/N still manages to choke out an amused scoff. “You’re starting to sound like a cheap porno, H.  Be careful.”

“Careful?  You want to be careful?” Harry asks, eyebrows poised as he digs his fingertips into the meaty flesh of her thigh. “Alright.”

In one fast motion, Harry snakes his hand completely up Y/N’s dress to cup over her lace-covered cunt, running the pads of his fingers over the dampening cloth.  He hooks one finger into the side of the lace and gives a sharp yank, and although Y/N’s not sure how he does it, or how Harry attained the sudden rush of strength needed to do so, she feels the delicate fabric rip right down the center. 

Before she can even process what’s happened, the act is over as quickly as it started as Harry settles back into his seat, eyebrows cocked in a conceited fashion as he watches her assess the new issue. 

“You’ll have to be careful now, won’t you, minx?  Gonna have t’keep your legs closed like a proper good girl— which I know is hard for you whenever I’m around.” He teases, his hand still clenched under the table as the other raises his glass to his strawberry lips. “Otherwise we might have a little mishap, hm?”

Y/N’s breath stutters in her pounding chest as she clenches her thighs as tight as she can. “You didn’t.”

Raising his hand from beneath the table, Harry opens his palm for just a moment, flashing her the scrap of black lace that had once been her panties before coasting his hand beneath his jacket and tucking the article into his pocket. “Didn't I?”

“Harry!” Y/N hisses, her voice dangerously low as she leans over the table. 

“Yes?” He replies innocently, wrapping his hand firmly around his glass. “Something the matter?”

Y/N gapes at the man across from her in disbelief. “You’re such a dick, you know that?” 

“I promise you, I’m well aware.” Harry laughs lightly as he polishes off the last of his wine. “But it’s not like you don’t like it.  You wouldn’t bounce on my cock if you didn’t.”

Sucking in a harsh breath through her teeth, Y/N clenches the tight satin of her dress in her fists. “God, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Yeah?” Harry quirks an eyebrow with a cocky smirk. “Good luck trying to catch me without flashing your entire arse to the kitchen staff.”

“I swear on my life, I’m going to rip off your—” 

“Ciao, Harry! Bella donna!” Vincenzo’s voice cuts over Y/N’s thinly-veiled threat as he approaches the table with arms wide and a smile pasted onto his face. “Come trovi tutto? Possiamo portarti dell'altro vino? La carta dei dolci?” How are you finding everything?  Can we get you more wine?  The dessert menu?

“È tutto delizioso, Vincenzo, grazie.” Everything is delicious, Vincenzo, thank you. Harry drawls, his grin growing as he turns to Y/N with a condescending tilt of his head. “What do you think, tesoro?  Are you in the mood for dessert?  Or have you had enough?”

Y/N’s mouth is too dry for her to answer, especially with the way Harry’s irises twinkle suggestively at his own words, so she finishes the last dregs of her wine before shaking her head tightly. “No— no dessert for me, thanks.”

Vincenzo heaves a dramatic gasp as he turns his full attention to her. “Bella donna, what is this?  Surely you want to try our dessert?  Even just some homemade gelato?”

“Oh, no, Vincenzo, thank you, but I don’t think I could squeeze any more food into my stomach.” Y/N fights to keep herself from sounding flustered, but she knows it’s a losing battle when she hears Harry mutter something about how wonderful she is at squeezing under his breath.

Vincenzo clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, twisting his astonished gaze back to Harry. “Harry, per favore, sicuramente puoi convincere il tuo appuntamento a mangiare un boccone di dessert? È sulla casa.” Harry, please, surely you can convince your date to have a bite of dessert?  It’s on the house.

The vampire presses his tongue into his cheek as he appraises Y/N again, the clenching of her abdomen drawing his eye more than anything else. Harry uses the tip of his boot to once again trail up the back of her calf beneath the tablecloth, giving her a wicked grin. “You’re sure you don’t want anything else, tesoro?”

Y/N jerks her head once more as a shadow crosses over her eyes. “No, thank you.” She reiterates in a strained voice.

With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Harry twists to face Vincenzo again, voice surrendered. “Grazie per l'offerta, Vincenzo, ma sembra che stiamo bene. Accettiamo solo il conto, per favore.” Thank you for the offer, Vincenzo, but it looks like we’re fine.  We’ll just take the check, please.

The restaurant owner sighs in disappointment, but nods in acceptance. “Va bene, va bene, solo l'assegno. Ma la prossima volta che torni, mi amore,” Vincenzo shifts his attention back to Y/N, who meets his smile as best as she can. “Dovrai provare due dolci per compensare la mancanza di uno stasera, vero?” Okay, okay, just the check.  But next time you come back, my love, you’ll have to try two desserts to make up for the lack of one tonight, yes?

Harry leans across the table and whispers the translation low in her ear, his cool breath sending a shiver down her spine as it rolls over her body.

“Yes, Vincenzo.  Next time.” Y/N promises quickly, clasping her hands tightly around the hem of her tight dress as the thigh slit begins to ride up.

Vincenzo motions over his shoulder for Luca to bring the check, chatting happily to Harry in Italian throughout the whole transaction.  Y/N stays quiet the entire time, instinctively hiding her boiling cheeks behind her hands each time one of them casts a glance her way.  Despite the nerves wreaking havoc in her belly, Harry continues to make casual conversation as he swipes his credit card, laughing and joking with Vincenzo like he has all the time in the world.  By the time the restaurant owner bids them both goodbye, Y/N’s certain she’s sweated well through the thin fabric of her dress from her nerves.

Harry, however, looks perfectly at ease as he tucks his wallet back into his suit jacket. “You handled that well, doll.  ‘M proud of you.” He says easily, rubbing a finger down the condensation dotting his glass of ice water. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” Y/N hisses at him, clenching her thighs together as another waiter passes dangerously close to their table. “How am I supposed to walk out of here without anyone noticing?”

“Like this.” Harry rises from the table and extends a hand to Y/N, who eyes it warily from her seated position. “C’mon, love, you’re going to have to trust me.” He goads her with a sigh, wiggling his fingers until Y/N gives in and settles her palm inside his.

Making sure his own body is hiding Y/N from the line of sight of anyone else, Harry helps pull his lover from her chair before removing his jacket with one swift motion.  He settles the rich grey fabric over her bare shoulders, draping the article in such a way that it covers the deep thigh slit that exposes her bare skin. 

“How’s that?” Harry asks lowly, voice tender as he fixes the collar of the jacket around Y/N’s delicate neck. “S’that better?”

The moment Harry’s familiar and intoxicating cologne fills her senses, all the irritation evaporates from Y/N’s veins, leaving behind only the quiet thrum of attraction that’s intensified by the man’s fragrance. 

“Yeah.” She whispers, the cadence of her voice nearing shyness as Harry tugs a lock of hair from underneath the collar of the jacket. “It’s a bit better.”

“Good.” The vampire leans down and stamps his lips to the girl’s forehead, letting his mouth linger for a few seconds before straightening up. “I promise I won’t let anyone see anything.  And even if someone does see something, as long as you’re with me, nobody will say a word.”

Y/N nods gently as Harry grasps her hand in his own to lead her out of the restaurant and back to his car. “Alright.  I trust you.”

That warmth from earlier begins to spread through Harry’s chest again the moment she utters the words. ���I’m glad to hear that.” He snakes his hand inside the jacket, brushing his fingertips against her breast before dipping his hand into the pocket.  When he withdraws it, the lace of her ripped panties is visible for only a moment before he tucks it into the back of his slacks with a smirk. “These are mine now. A little spoil of war for my trophy case.”

Despite his protective stance around her as he begins to weave the two of them through tables, Y/N scoffs at the action. “I still can’t believe you did that, you asshole.”

“Oh, I’m an asshole?” Harry glances over his shoulder as he quirks an eyebrow teasingly. “Alright, then.  I can just drop you back off at your apartment, if you’d like.  Go back to my place alone tonight. Gonna have to unbutton my trousers on my own, and peel this nice shirt off by myself, and crawl in between my sheets rather than in between your thighs. Such a shame.”

Y/N can’t stop the whine that echoes the back of her throat. “No, H—”

“That’s what I thought.” Harry steps back from her just enough to tug open the glass front door of the restaurant, his eyes already settling on the valet.  When he speaks, however, it’s just for her to hear, and her alone. It sends a current of anticipation through her veins as it washes across the shell of her ear, his breath smelling of sweet grapes and notes of cherry from their wine, thick with the tangy scent of liquor and cooler than usual from the chilled beverage. Despite that coldness, his next promise settles into her exposed core with a familiar heat that she knows only he can resolve.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done with you just yet. It’s gonna be a long night.” 

[vantaenims]

the lonely hearts club | jungkook

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: college au, friends to lovers | fluff, humor, angst

word count: 17.5k

warning/s: break ups, alcohol consumption, profanity, cheating, making out, mentions of divorce.

summary: A story of how two lost humans in the cruel world of love managed to find each other in a sea full of failed relationships, heartbreaks, and drunken karaoke nights but could they truly find the love they’re looking for through each other?

✧ fic teaser ✧

masterlist

all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

--

Sunday Mornings are the best time of the week for eight year old Jungkook since it’s the only time he gets to wake up to both of his parents on his side, cuddling him up like they just not told him last night and many other nights that he should sleep in his own room, considering that he’s already becoming a big boy but Sundays has become an exception for that.

That is until one morning when Jungkook woke up and found himself all alone in his parent’s king sized bed. He’s trying to outgrow being a crybaby but he can’t help how tears started to prick his eyes, feeling betrayed at their absence. Without a second thought, he threw away the comforter hastily as he jumped out of the bed and went straight out of the door with loud thudding steps as the immature boy he was.

Descending the stairs, Jungkook was ready to throw a fit as soon as he saw his mother mopping the floor of their living room but he was quite dumbfounded when his father grabbed the mop off of his mother’s hand, taking her hand instead to pull her in for a dance of cha cha along to the love song playing in the background which is The Spiral Starecase’s More Today Than Yesterday.

Jungkook wiped his tear stained cheeks as he sat down on the stairs, clutching the banisters so he could insert his face in between them and thought how his mom and dad looked like they were having a lot of fun despite how awful and silly their dancing was. Nonetheless, it made Jungkook smile, that is until his mom suddenly slipped on the still wet floor. Thankfully, his dad caught her in time, making the both of them erupt in laughter at how foolish they were being.

It was a sight to see how light hearted that moment was and that was the exact time Jungkook felt the immense warmth of his parent’s love with each other, leaving him to wish that someday he’ll find a love like his parents.

And that was how Jungkook began to develop a deep sense of faith in love.

It’s the image of his mom and dad dancing to love songs every Sunday Morning that has gotten him so smitten about the idea of love and that is how he thinks he became a hopeless romantic who believes that love makes the world go round.

But it seems like the world is treating him rather unfairly and indifferent with the way he keeps on getting involved in countless failed relationships. Love turned out far from what he expected and it can’t be helped that his faith in love is starting to dwindle down but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he gives up on the idea of it yet although he sometimes asks himself.

Is love even worth a shot at this point?

Specially, when today just happened to be the day he got dumped by Cho Hee, his girlfriend or rather his ex-girlfriend for about six months which is not too long of a time but in Jungkook’s case, it’s the longest one he got into out of his previous short-lived relationships.

Break ups shouldn’t be that big of a deal for him by now as it has become some sort of a norm to him but that doesn’t mean that he’s spared from the pain. Atleast, it’s comforting to know that there’s someone who could totally empathize with his misfortunes about love and someone who suffers through the same fate as him – you.

Jungkook met you back in sophomore year when you joined the school newspaper as the new feature writer. The both of you got the chance to be closer when you were assigned to cover the university’s 75th anniversary event along with him as the photographer and that’s how he ended up always being tied with you.

Well, event coverages aren’t the only thing that made you closer because you see, failed relationships just happened to be one of your commonalities and there’s only one place that ties down two miserable beings together.

Usually, you take a break in life and embark on a soul searching trip to compensate for your heart’s misery but that seems pretty unattainable for two college students who live off of their parent’s allowance.

It’s nothing grandiose but the place is enough for the both of you to distract your minds away from all of those heartbreaks just by singing your hearts out because apparently, karaoke nights are better when you’re broken hearted.

The familiar LED signage with a word ‘Soundcheck’ on it is what flashed brightly in front of Jungkook once the doors of the elevator opened at the third floor of the building just near the campus.

“Oh Jungkook” Hyunseok, the receptionist, whom he had gotten close to by now greeted him as soon as he stepped inside the establishment. Jungkook went on to grip his hand, pulling him to give him a pat on his shoulder, “Y/N’s already here, by the way.”

“Oh is she?” Well, that’s a first, considering that you’re always late by five or ten minutes after he arrived.

“Yeah, she ordered a bucket of beer, some food, and she also told me that you’ll be paying for it” Hyunseok chuckled.

“Okay” Jungkook smiled as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth but he nonetheless took out his wallet since he’s the one who invited you here tonight, “What room?”

“Same room as always”

Jungkook nodded, waving a salute to Hyunseok as he walked along the hallway that’s surrounded by muffled sounds coming from each room but he could easily distinguish your loud off-key singing when he rounded the corner.

Twisting the knob, Jungkook took in the sight of the dimly lit room that’s only illuminated with the electric disco ball attached to the ceiling. On the other hand, you’re totally too immersed into the song that you didn’t even notice his presence as you continue to hit the notes with your eyes closed while simultaneously jumping up and down.

Jungkook went to sit down on the black leather couch, grabbing himself a plate of french fries from the table as he continue to amusedly watch you belt out the lyrics of Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen and when the bridge of the song came, you turned around and suddenly got startled to see Jungkook already there.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you shouted into the mic, drawing the last part of his name longer like you’re some type of an announcer in a boxing match and as if it isn’t comical enough, you picked up the tambourine as you shake it vigorously, “How are you feeling tonight,  Jungkook-ssi?”

“Good” he said in a monotonous voice.

“Doesn’t sound like it” you said as dramatic as ever, shoving the mic again into his face “How are you feeling?”

Jungkook would ride on your silly antics on a normal day but he can’t keep up with your energy right now so he just sent you a small smile as he placed the plate back onto the table. Your question definitely threw off a bit of his composure and he bit his lip as he tried to keep his emotions at bay.

“Is it that bad?” you asked in all seriousness this time as you set aside the mic and tambourine to take a closer look at him.

Sighing, Jungkook threw back his head against the couch as he pinched the bridge of his nose, chuckling even to get a grip of himself.

“Oh no are you going to cry?” you didn’t even purposefully say it to mock him but he hates how it makes him cry everytime and maybe, he really never outgrew being a crybaby.

Awkwardly, you sat down beside him to pat his head but you stopped, thinking how you stupidly looked like you were petting a dog instead so you just moved your hands down to his shoulders.

Honestly speaking, you’re not the best person when it comes to comforting others but it’s questionable why Jungkook chose you to be his go-to person when you’re clearly bad at it.

“What happened?”

“Cho Hee broke up with me”, Jungkook wiped his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt as bitterness started to rise inside him, “Ah i can’t believe that i was right along when i said that this relationship felt so one sided.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to know her reason?”

“What?” you asked as you scooted closer, curious to know why.

“She said that we’re not compatible because she’s a Gemini and i’m a Virgo.”

You gauge Jungkook’s expression to see if he was joking but he said it so earnestly that you had to purse your lips as you try your best to contain your laughter but you soon gave in as Jungkook met your gaze.

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear”, you said in between laughs as you clutch your stomach, “but are you serious?”

“She told me that it is the reason why our relationship isn’t working”, Jungkook unlocked his phone as he read something over his screen. You can’t help but take a peek as you see that Jungkook’s reading a series of text messages from Cho Hee.

[Thursday, May 28, 8:01 AM]

Cho Hee ❤️ : Jungkook

Cho Hee❤️ : I’m breaking up with you because it looks like this relationship isn’t working and i think it’s because we’re not compatible to begin with.

Cho Hee ❤️ : A Virgo and Gemini don’t go together.

Cho Hee ❤️ : Sorry...

“Oh no, she broke up with you through text” you said, laughing even more despite Jungkook's unamused look yet he later found himself smiling along with you after he realized how it sounded more ridiculous when he said Cho Hee’s reason out loud but that still doesn’t make up for his sour mood.

“Aren’t you supposed to comfort me here?” Jungkook said, squinting his eyes at you.

“Of course but you know, you can never blame Cho Hee for being a firm astrological believer”, you bumped your shoulder against Jungkook as you calmed yourself down from your laughing frenzy.

“Well, she could’ve just told me that she didn’t love me instead of that crap”,  Jungkook reached out onto the table to get himself a bottle of beer to swig on.

“I guess, it’s time to sing our go-to break up song then”, you grabbed the remote as you pressed the song numbers in while mimicking the karaoke machine’s voice.

You stood up on your feet once you heard the guitar intro of Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson played whilst Jungkook didn’t move an inch besides to drink that is.

“Join me”, you passed him the other mic to which he took but he still didn’t make any move to sing or stand up.

Eventually, you went on to sing by yourself as energetic as ever, specially when the chorus part came, prompting you to jump wildly with your arms flailing, causing Jungkook to smile at how ridiculous you were being.

“The bridge part’s coming” you grabbed his hand, tugging him up to stand but Jungkook is purposefully making it hard for you to do so by making himself heavier just to tease you and test your patience and not long after, you swatted his hand away as you playfully rolled your eyes, leaving him satisfied with your reaction.

Jungkook waited for the last part of the bridge before he stood up to interrupt your moment by belting out the high note perfectly which got you startled for a second as you turned to look at him and you’re glad to see that he’s finally okay, well, at least for now.

You hit his arm for ruining your moment as you try to feign annoyance, “You’re supposed to sing it badly that’s – SINCE YOU BEEN GONE!”

Jungkook doubled in laughter as he slung his arm around your shoulder. The two of you continued to sing to your heart’s content while also jumping in unison, leaving you exhausted as you tried to catch your breath by the time the song ended.

“You good?” you said in the middle of your coughing fit from straining your throat too much as you collapsed back on the couch, turning your head sideways to look at Jungkook.

“Better”,  Jungkook said as he went back on his feet, tugging you to stand along with him.

—

There are no assignments due, no presentations to prepare, and no thesis revisions needed to be done so what better way to spend the weekend than playing games for hours.

Jungkook was roughly forty five minutes into the game of League of Legends when his phone went off. Glancing at it, your name popped up onto his screen, leaving him to wonder as to why you’d call him when you’re in the middle of a dinner date with some boy you met through a dating app.

“Hello?” Jungkook said as he removed his headphones, replacing his phone to press it against his ear with the support of his shoulder.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?”

“What?” he furrowed his brows, wondering why you sound so frantic.

“You got into a car crash!? Where are you!?” you said in a higher pitch this time.

“What are you talking about?”

“Where are you?”

“Uh Grounds?” he told you the name of the PC Bang where he is currently at but still confused with whatever you’re up to.

“Okay, I'll go there” you said as you hung up just like that, leaving him hanging for the sudden odd phone call.

Nonetheless, he put back his headphones in as he went back to focus on his game, leaving the whole thing for him to think about for later since he’s still in the middle of the game. In fact, he was so focused into the game that he had failed to notice that you had already managed to arrive and sit down right next to the cubicle beside him fifteen minutes later.

Once the game ended, he reclined back to his seat as he twisted his upper body side to side which enabled him to catch a glimpse of a girl in a black puff sleeve dress next to him. The outfit clearly made her stand out from the rest but he had to do a double take once he realized that the overdressed girl right next to him is you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Watching a movie”, you pointed to your screen as he leaned towards your cubicle, catching a glimpse of a scene from the movie called Romeo + Juliet.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, spinning his chair to face you, “What was that earlier? And why are you eating so much for someone who just had dinner?”

A server just laid down a tray filled with instant noodles, hotdog bun, onion fries, and a soda onto your table. Jungkook was about to get some onion fries until you slapped his hand away, glaring at him as you popped a fries into your mouth whilst you adjusted yourself in a more comfortable sitting position by removing your shoes to cross your legs.

“I’m hungry and the date was awful”, you shrugged as you continue to watch the movie.

“Didn’t you have dinner yet?”

“I did but the prick ordered for me a fucking stale salad when i originally wanted a rib eye steak and i just knew i had to get out of there when he randomly pulled up his shirt to show me the  scars he got for playing football or needless to say, he just wanted to show off his oh so perfect abs”, you shaked your head, cringing once you remembered how you felt embarrassed for him when everyone in the restaurant turned their attention towards your table.

Jungkook snorted, “Maybe he just wants to impress you?”

“Yeah, well, I'm very impressed with how he managed to just talk about himself for the whole date” you rolled your eyes but you immediately got distracted when Jungkook just got served with a steaming hot cup of noodles.

“That looks delicious”, you brought in your chopsticks towards the cup noodles, eyeing it despite feeling full but your stomach says otherwise. Disappointingly, the cup of noodles was taken away out of your reach as Jungkook proceeded to slurp a mouthful of noodles, not even caring that it’s still piping hot.

“It’s hot” Jungkook repeatedly said as he made a face once he felt his tongue being burned, causing him to tear up a little as he tried not to spit it out.

You took this chance to get a hold of the cup noodles but Jungkook stopped you, widening his eyes as he shaked his head no at you, “There’s crab sticks in there”, he warned you, considering you’re allergic to shellfish.

“You’re cruel”, you laughed as you noticed that some broth managed to splatter on his chin, making you get a tissue from your bag as you wiped it for him but Jungkook was quick to grab the piece of tissue from you, muttering a thanks as he wiped his whole mouth.

Leaving the game, Jungkook went on to Netflix to search for the same movie you’re watching as he peered over your monitor to see what part of the movie you were in so he could synchronize with you.

“Ah Y/N, how long are we going to be unlucky?” Jungkook said, pertaining to your previous discussion, “Actually, I'm the unlucky one since you’re the one who always ends things.”

“How am i not unlucky? I always end up dating guys with red flags and I end things right away as soon as I notice that red flag,” you defended.

“But don’t you give them some time to confront them about it and give them a chance to improve?” Jungkook asked as his hand sneakily made way towards your onion fries, smiling to himself as he popped in the fries into his mouth.

“Trust me, I've learnt my lesson and as the old saying goes – ‘prevention is better than cure’” ,you playfully winked at him.

“How?” Jungkook looked at you as he awaited your answer but you didn’t answer, probably too annoyed at how his curiosity is comparable to a child with all of his unending questions so he just continued to watch the film that is until you spoke, quite seriously he might add.

“I wasn’t snooping or anything but I got bored one time and managed to borrow my dad’s phone to play games and a text popped out from my aunt saying, ‘what cake should i get?’ and ‘red velvet’s nice, right’, thinking it was for me since my 12th birthday was coming but my aunt got me a chocolate cake instead.”

Jungkook pushed his chair near you, eager for you to continue your story even though he doesn’t know where you’re trying to get at or if this is even related to what he just asked.

“I thought maybe the red velvet flavor ran out so I just shrugged it off and I think about a week after my birthday, I was playing on my dad’s phone again and a text from my aunt popped up again saying, ‘Thanks for the red velvet cake. Happy 2 Years Anniversary to us <3’ and that’s when i thought i wished i never knew what that red velvet cake is for.”

“Shit, what?” Jungkook widened his eyes as he bit his thumb.

“I thought the reason my dad would always bring me to my aunt’s place after school every Friday is that I could get to play with my cousins and that’s the red flag I didn’t care to notice.”

Jungkook tried to read your face to see if the memory still affects you ‘til to this day but it seems not like it. You were being nonchalant while speaking about it as if it isn’t some big of a deal although he could definitely make out your serious tone.

“How is your mom?” Jungkook asked with more caution.

You shrugged as you still remained your eyes on the screen, “Well, my mom found out about it a few months later and they eventually got a divorce.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N”

“It’s okay. Anyway, It’s ages ago”,  you smiled before your eyes light up as you pointed to the screen, “Oh, look at Romeo and Juliet’s costume. We should wear that for Sunwoo’s Halloween Party, what do you think?”

Sunwoo happens to be the Editor in Chief of the school newspaper and he announced earlier on during the board meeting that he’ll throw a Halloween party this year but that’s not what’s important right now.

It was clearly noticeable you weren’t comfortable anymore to talk further about your parents as soon as you changed the topic. Jungkook felt sorry and worried about you but he decided to just drop it off as he agreed to your halloween costume suggestion.

You might not realize this when you said that you’re okay since it was ages ago but Jungkook could easily tell that it made a big impact on you, specifically on how you handle your relationships which gave him a better grip of understanding now that you weren’t just ending things for the sake of finishing it.

You’re just scared when you shouldn’t be but how could he blame you? Dads should set the bar high for their children but your dad just had to set it so low that he had caused you irreparable damage or worse, caused you your first heartbreak.

Jungkook’s misfortunes in love does not do justice to what you went through and he has come to realize that love isn’t just Sunday mornings and love songs but it could be a whole lot worse with it’s ugly side of after school Fridays and red velvet cakes.

--

Once again, Jungkook found himself at Soundcheck, not to sing but to do a whole lot of listening to you gush over Minho, your new boyfriend for about two months now. According to you, you met Minho during high school and had a big crush on him before but it didn’t go past that until you reconnected with him recently when you discovered that he’s in your Investigative Journalism subject.

Your relationship with Minho started out pretty soon, right after a week since your awful date with that football player from the dating app to be exact.

“Okay, one last song” you exclaimed as you got off the couch after resting a little while.

“I thought that was the last one?” Jungkook closed his eyes in exhaustion as he slid himself sideways to the couch, “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’ll pick a mellow song then” you searched through the song list and shouted an ‘aha!’ in joy as you picked up the remote to enter the song numbers right away.

Jungkook stared at the television, waiting for the screen to show the song title and he just had to sit back up once Emergency Room by Izi flashed on the screen, “Don’t you know that this song is superstitious to sing in a karaoke?”

“Is that the one where it’s believed that you might literally end up in an emergency room if you happen to sing it in a karaoke?”, Jungkook nodded his head while you could only roll your eyes, “Oh come on, Emergency Room is a must in karaoke and that’s why it’s called a superstition, Jungkook. It’s not real”

“Well, It doesn’t hurt to believe one, does it?”

You shrugged as you turn a deaf ear by singing the whole song by yourself, insistently proving that it’s just a stupid superstition like the others.

“So far, so good, hm?” you beamed a contemptuous smile as you finished the song.

“Let’s just go to Eomma’s, I'm hungry”, Jungkook shook his head as he grabbed your hand, dragging you outside of the room and into the elevator, pressing the ground floor button.

Eomma’s Tteokbokki is a hole in the wall restaurant located right beside the building where Soundcheck is and it is owned by a 72 year old woman named Han Ji Hye but everyone who frequents the place just calls her ‘Eomma’.

“Jungkook and Y/N, you’re here again” Eomma greeted the both of you as soon as you entered the restaurant. Despite her age, Eomma has a very sharp memory and remembers each and every one of her loyal customers, even treating them just like her children – Eomma sure does live up to her nickname.

“Of course, Eomma. How could i not come back to the most delicious tteokbokki i’ve ever tasted ”, you winked at her as you raised both of your hands to give her a thumbs up.

“Ah you kids always flatter me”, Eomma placed both of her hands above her heart, “You’ll be getting the classic tteokbokki as always, right?”

“As expected, Eomma knows us so well”, Jungkook smiled.

“You’re really such a handsome young boy, isn’t he Y/N?” Eomma pinched his cheeks as she turned to look at you but you could only laugh as soon as you saw Jungkook adorably scrunched his nose.

“Ah Eomma, i might be convinced if you keep on saying that” Jungkook said through his gritted teeth.

“Is he?” you raised your eyebrows as you teasingly looked at Jungkook.

“Oh dear, you’re missing out. I’d marry my granddaughter to him if only i have one around his age but in case you change your mind, you better invite me to your wedding – you’d make a great pair!”

Jungkook shyly caressed his hair behind his ears as he pursed his lips and he just had to cover his face once he felt his face getting warmer by the second and you aren’t also an exception for Eomma’s teasing as you felt yourself getting shy, making you chug a glassful of water just to hide it.

“Alright, let me just get your orders”, Eomma chuckled as she patted both of your shoulders.

Peering through his fingers, Jungkook waited for Eomma to disappear into the kitchen but you wrapped your hands around his wrist as you tried to pry it away from his face as you went on to tease him.

“Come on, why are you hiding your handsome face?” you laughed but got startled all of a sudden once you heard your phone vibrating against the metal table.

Jungkook willingly took his hands off his face as he watched you pressed your phone against your ear, already guessing that Minho is probably on the other end of the line.

Eomma came by to serve the tteokbokki, telling you to eat to your heart’s content before disappearing once again behind the kitchen. Jungkook proceeded to eat first as he tried not to eavesdrop into your conversation that is until you called his attention.

“Is it okay if Minho’s joining us?”  you asked as you pry your phone away from your ear.

Jungkook paused for a bit before he could answer, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Great” you smiled as you then told Minho over the phone to come over at Eomma’s.

Well, this is new. The both of you have never met each other’s significant other – except for Cho Hee since you went to highschool with her but besides that, the both of you have never bothered to begin with, considering how they just come and go so why go through all that trouble now?

“So, is that the reason why you wanted to have a late dinner with me?” he slowly drew out the words as he tilted his head to the side.

“Well, i think it’s just a matter of time for you to meet him”, you shrugged as you placed down your phone and grabbed the chopsticks off the utensils holder.

“I thought we don’t do that?” Jungkook chuckled as he looked across you.

“I know and this may sound cliche but…” you tried to chew first the tteokbokki but you can’t contain your smile as you thought of the next sentence you’ll say and now you looked like a cheeky chipmunk, “Minho’s different.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“He’s actually very very nice like he’s such an angel and he’s just that kind of person you’d want to introduce to your family” you explained with glimmer in your eyes like you just discovered one of the most lustrous diamond on earth and by that, he could tell just how smitten you are with Minho and that’s when he weirdly felt the twinge of envy inside him.

“Oh here he is” you sat up straight as you raised your hand to call Minho.

Jungkook turned around and suspected the boy clad in a blue flannel shirt and black jeans to be Minho when he saw him walking over towards your table.

“Hey”, Minho leaned down, pulling you in a one sided hug as he kissed your cheek, making you flustered until you realized that Jungkook’s probably cringing at your display of affection.

“Oh um Minho this is Jungkook, Jungkook Minho” you pointed them towards each other, smiling brightly as you clasped your hands together right after.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook” Minho extended his hand for Jungkook to shake but Jungkook remained in his seat, sizing him up until you kicked his foot.

“Glad to finally meet you too, Minho” Jungkook stood up as he firmly shaked his hand.

“Okay, why don’t we all sit down?” you interjected when you noticed the visible awkwardness between the two.

You guided Minho to sit down on your left side as you called over one of the servers to ask for the menu. On the other hand, Jungkook watched in amusement at your sudden change of character, smiling to himself as he went back to eat.

[Thursday, Sept 18, 9:33 PM]

You: BE NICE

Jungkook glanced towards his phone then to you after reading out your message and he tried his best not to snort when he saw you widening your eyes at him as if that’ll threaten him. Nonetheless, he’ll be willing to follow through whatever you want since it looks like you’re very keen to make him and Minho get along.

“So uh you went to the same high school with Y/N, right?” Jungkook asked, initiating to start and engage into some small talk even though he despises it.

“Yeah and it’s funny to think how small the world is huh?”, Jungkook furrowed his brows at his statement, “Y/N told me you’re dating Cho Hee.”

“Did she?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you while you just silently sat there as you poke on your food to avoid his glare.

“You know what? Why don’t we invite Cho Hee here, we could do a double date”, Minho suggested as he nudged you with his elbow.

You scratched the nape of your neck as you let out a chuckle that sounds way out too forced, “I’m going to go in the restroom real quick.”

Jungkook remained his gaze at you until you’re out of his sight, turning back his attention to Minho, “Um, we broke up.”

“Oh really? I'm so sorry i didn’t know”

“It’s fine”, Jungkook quickly dismissed Minho, making the whole atmosphere awkward all of a sudden. Thankfully, Minho found a way to fill in the uncomfortable silence as he changed the topic.

“You’re majoring in Information Systems, right?” Minho asked and Jungkook wondered what’s the point of doing this small talk when you have already shared loads of unnecessary information about Minho, heck he even knows he has a phobia of chickens because he was attacked by one when he was child in his grandfather’s poultry farm and he could only guess that Minho probably knows everything about him too.

“Yeah”

“Then you probably know Professor Seo?” Minho asked as he planted his elbows on top of the table after ordering.

“Yeah he was my advisor during my feasibility study last year, made my junior year eventually a hell with the constant revisions that shouldn’t be even revised just because he’s being so stupidly meticulous”, Jungkook blabbered, trying at least to exert some effort into this conversation, “How do you know him?”

“He’s my uncle”, and with that being said, Jungkook choked up on his food, prompting Minho to get him a glass of water, passing it to him.

Well, fuck. Why have you not mentioned that to him before?

“But yeah, I get it, me and my cousins hate how he’s sometimes strict with us too”, Minho smiled, leaving Jungkook to decipher if it’s a fake one or genuine. Nonetheless, Jungkook let out a nervous chuckle as he eyed the restroom, wondering when are you going to come out to save him from his embarrassment.

As if the gods had heard his prayers, the server went by the table to put down Minho’s order of tteokbokki whilst his phone went off just in time to save his dignity.

“Excuse me”, Jungkook stood up as he went outside the restaurant to answer the call from his thesis mate.

As soon as he answered the call, his thesis mate endlessly rambled on about how his brain had managed to dried up from creating different survey questions only for them to end up getting rejected by their advisor hence why he’s calling Jungkook to ask for help.

Jungkook was put on the spot as he tried to brainstorm for plausible questions although it took him some time but he ended up contributing five questions so at least there’s that to save his thesis mate.

Once the call ended, Jungkook went back inside to see a bit of commotion going on around your table. Minho was rubbing his hands at your back as he looked at you with an equally confused face whilst the server from a while ago was trying to assess the situation by asking you a question but your coughing fit prevents you from speaking up.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook asked the same question the server was just asking.

“I think she’s choking” the server handed a glass of water to Minho who took it to put it against your mouth, assisting you whilst continuously patting your back but it took no effect to cease your coughing fit.

“I can’t breathe” you heaved as you scratch your neck and that’s when Jungkook noticed your watery eyes and your face that’s starting to swell. Pulling up the sleeves of your jacket, his guess was right when he saw hives littering your arm – you’re having an allergic reaction.

“Do you have an antihistamine with you?” Jungkook asked you as you shook your head no, remembering how you had just brought only your wallet with you and that’s how he began to get frantic.

“I’ll hail a cab, we need to get her to the hospital” Jungkook rushed towards the door but Minho stopped him before he could get outside.

“I’ve taken my car with me”, Minho told Jungkook as he hoisted you up by putting his arm around you, guiding you towards the outside and into his car. On the other hand, Jungkook went straight to the cashier to pay for the bill before he dashed out of the restaurant to follow suit.

Minho started the car once Jungkook got in the backseat, speeding right away to the nearest hospital. Jungkook leaned forward towards the center console as he worriedly looked at you

“What’s happening with her?” Minho looked totally lost as he looked over at you then towards Jungkook for some answer.

“She’s having an allergic reaction”, Jungkook stated the obvious fact, “What did she eat?”

“I ordered the new flavored tteokbokki then she just grabbed a bite or two, that’s it” Minho said in his defense.

“The cheesy shrimp one!?” Jungkook widened his eyes.

“Yeah, is she allergic to shrimp? But I thought she’s allergic to seashells though?”

Jungkook looked at Minho dead in the eyes, wondering if your boyfriend is seriously trying to make a joke right now or is he just plain stupid? With the way he looks so serious asking him about it, he could confirm that it’s the latter.

“You meant to say shellfish, right?” Jungkook grumbled as he tried to remain calm, knowing that your boyfriend isn’t actually clueless about your allergy but he sure is careless to forget that one important thing about you.

Jungkook was pulled out of his anger as soon as a sob escaped from you, making him turn his attention at you, just in time to see you clutching the collar of your shirt as if you’d want to loosen them with the way you looked like you were gasping for air while your shoulders heaved.

“I can’t breathe”, you said in between shaky breaths, “I’m going to die.”

“Hey, try not to cry, okay? It’ll be harder for you to breathe” Jungkook instructed Minho to roll down your windows as he warmly smiled at you once you looked at him but you quickly diverted your eyes to Minho when he gently grabbed your hand, squeezing it to reassure you.

“We’re near and I promise, I’m not going to let you die” Minho told you as he steered his eyes away from the road for a moment to look at you oh so lovingly like he isn’t the reason why you were like this in the first place, causing Jungkook to internally cringe.

Not too long, Minho drove the car to the driveway slope of the emergency bay and Jungkook quickly hopped off the car, opening your door as he removed your seatbelt for you, wrapping his arm around your back and under your knees when you slightly pushed his shoulder, stopping his movements.

“I can walk”, you weakly voice out.

Jungkook let out an exasperated sigh as he went on instead to grab your arm, slinging it around his shoulder while he held you securely close to him by wrapping his arm around your waist, hoisting you up out of your seat and towards the entrance.

“Is your pride really that important?” Jungkook reprimanded you.

Once the automatic doors opened, a nurse stationing the desk nearby the entrance rushed in to your aid. Jungkook explained the whole thing to the nurse and she was quick to get a wheelchair for you as she wheeled you towards one of the vacant beds.

Jungkook stood at the end of the bed, crossing his arms as he anxiously bit down on his thumb whilst he watched the two nurses move you towards the bed. They try to ask you your name or simply assure you to try to stay you calm as they put on an oxygen mask for you to breathe properly.

Thankfully, your breathing started to come back to normal when they injected a shot of epinephrine into your thigh. The nurse removed your jacket for you as they rolled up the sleeves of your shirt to wrap the cuff of the blood pressure monitor around your arm.

“How is she?” Minho asked as he suddenly appeared beside Jungkook, startling him a bit.

“They just gave her an epinephrine” Jungkook told him without taking his eyes off of you as he gave you a reassuring smile when he saw your still worrisome face.

The nurse came up to Jungkook after she had taken down your vital signs, “Are you her boyfriend?”

“Uh no, he is”,  Jungkook pointed to Minho as he rubbed his hand against the nape of his neck.

“Oh I’m very sorry” the nurse apologized as she turned her attention to Minho to ask him a few questions and to also fill out some paperwork.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asked as he went to sit down on one of the chairs beside the bed.

“Good”, you heaved out a sigh, “I should’ve listened to you.”

“About what?” Jungkook furrowed his brows, clueless to what you’re referring to.

“I should’ve not sung Emergency Room.”

Jungkook closed his eyes as he smiled, tiling his head to the side, “I thought you were being serious there.”

The sound of the curtains closing swiftly caused the both of you to turn your attention towards the nurse and Minho who just ended their conversation. Minho walked towards the side of the bed where Jungkook is currently seated, prompting him to stand up and give his seat to him as he chose to idly stand at the end of the bed instead, watching the two of you converse.

“I’ll just go to the convenience store outside”, Jungkook announced, quite finding it awkward to be a third wheel inside that cramped cubicle room.

The trip to the convenience store didn’t take him too long as he’s now entering the automatic doors of the emergency room with a white plastic bag on his hand, containing refreshments for the three of you. He was about to open the curtains of your cubicle but he stopped himself when he overheard Minho’s words, not wanting to get in the way of your conversation just yet.

“Shit, i forgot to pick up my sister”, Minho said, panic evident in his voice.

“Oh, right, you should go'' you muttered albeit disappointedly.

“Are you sure?”

Your boyfriend is completely incredulous to say that, knowing you were in a critical situation minutes ago and Jungkook knew that he just had to interject into your conversation, “I’ll take her home.”

Minho was dumbfounded for a bit when Jungkook shoved the bottle of cold brew right away into his hand and he was left to think how nice Jungkook is but his not so subtle aggressive action says otherwise.

“Okay then”, Minho shrugged as he leaned down to you, planting a kiss right on your forehead, “Keep me updated, okay?” you nodded as you watched Minho go over to Jungkook, pulling him in for a half hug as he thanked him for the drink.

Minho looked over at you one last time, waving his hand before he disappeared right as he went out through the curtains. Sighing, you laid your head back against the pillow, staring right through the creamy white ceiling when a box of apple juice appeared right before you.

“And for you”, you grabbed the juice from Jungkook as you sat yourself upright, opening the box as you punched the straw through the hole.

“Thanks”, you said as you took a sip.

“So, he left to pick up his sister huh?” Jungkook asked as he sat on the side of the mattress.

It really wasn’t hard for you to miss his snide remark and it can’t be helped that Minho might’ve not sat well with Jungkook considering all of the events for tonight, giving Minho a bad first impression for Jungkook.

“Minho’s really going to fetch his sister tonight. He just dropped by at Eomma’s because it’s on his way”, you defended as you try to justify Minho’s action.

“Still, aren’t you here because you’re allergic to seashells?” Jungkook smiled in a condescending way.

You chuckled as you kicked his side with your leg, “Don’t be so hard on him besides, it was an accident.”

“Ow, that kick sure is harder” Jungkook hissed as he rubbed his sides, acting as if your kick was really that strong and forceful when it’s not.

Jungkook immediately hopped off the bed as soon as the doctor came in but she was quick to dismiss him, telling him it’s fine. Nonetheless, Jungkook chose to stand, watching Doctor Kim – as it says on her coat –  switch on her penlight, instructing you to open your mouth.

“What did you eat?” the doctor asked you as she examined the chart.

“I had a tteokbokki but i didn’t know that it had some shrimp on it.”

“Okay and have you ever had this type of reaction before?” Doctor Kim asked as she clicked her click pen against the clipboard to write down what you’re saying.

“No, I usually just take an antihistamine for my allergy.”

Doctor Kim nodded as she reviewed the chart one last time before she spoke up, “Alright, so what you went through is called an anaphylactic shock which is a severe allergic reaction that can be very life threatening if not treated immediately but thankfully, you were taken care of. Since it's the first time you got this reaction, I'd recommend that you carry an EpiPen with you from now on just to be cautious for future attacks like these.”

“Will I be discharged now?” you asked when you suddenly remember that you still have an unfinished essay to work on.

Doctor Kim chuckled at how you sounded like an impatient kid, “Well, not yet because you’re still under observation and we need to make sure that you won’t have a second reaction. Also, i have to put you through an antihistamine IV drip to lessen the swelling on your throat.”

“Oh okay” you said, sounding unsure as your mind is too busy thinking if you’d be able to finish your essay and pass it on time.

“Alright, i’ll be checking on you from time to time, okay?” Doctor Kim smiled as you thanked her.

As Doctor Kim left, you pressed your fingers against your temples, sighing as you unlocked your phone to stare at your essay that still needs 1,000 words for you to finish it but nothing seems to come up to your mind when you try to brainstorm for ideas.

“What’s the matter?” Jungkook asked out of curiosity.

“I have an essay due before midnight and I’m still not yet done.”

“What is it about?”

Before you could even reply, a nurse came in to set up the IV fluid solution bag by suspending it on an infusion stand, “Hi, i’ll be inserting the IV now, okay?”

You watched the nurse wrap a tourniquet around your wrist as she palpates the skin atop of your hand, looking for a prominent vein. The catheter hasn’t even pricked your skin yet but you had already turned your head to the side, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as the nurse swabbed the sterowipe atop of your hand.

Stifling a laugh, Jungkook enclosed his hand around yours for you to hold on to but he was not expecting for you to grip his hand so tightly as if your life depended on it, making him grimace in pain.

“Okay, you’re done” the nurse told you as she opened the roller clamp to let the fluid flow through your veins.

“Thank you”, you smiled.

“That was one hell of a grip”, Jungkook shook his hand, “Were you going to crush my bones?”

“Sorry”, you apologized as you immediately went back to look on your phone, skimming through your essay.

“What is it about?” Jungkook repeated.

“It’s fine, It’s not like you could really help me with it” you waved your hand, dismissing him.

“Are you underestimating me?” Jungkook  squinted his eyes as he leaned closer towards you.

You withdrew your eyes away from the screen just to roll your eyes at Jungkook, “It’s about Marxism and its relevance to today’s society.”

“That’s something about capitalism, isn’t it?”

“It’s a theory about the effects of capitalism on workers and the economic development but yeah.”

“See, have a little faith in me, yeah?” Jungkook winked as he grabbed your phone to search  the topic right away.

“If you say so”, you said, still quite unconvinced.

“I’ll treat you at Eomma’s if you get a perfect score.”

Well, that’s more convincing although the real reason you don’t want to accept Jungkook’s help is because you’ve been a big burden just for tonight. It’s not like you could deny him if he’ll keep on insisting besides, you could feel your eyes getting heavier with how tired you are just from crying.

You pointed out clearly to Jungkook that he just needs to open the student portal and submit the essay before midnight. Jungkook was quick to dismiss you after you have relayed all the important information, instructing you to just lay down and rest.

Jungkook tried to absorb as much information about the concept behind Marxism and he has one and a half hours left to do some research and write about it that’s why he’s concentrating hard to put out all his best to this work but you got him all distracted upon hearing you chuckle.

“What?” he raised his head to look at you.

“You look so serious”

“Just close your eyes”, Jungkook covered your eyes with his hand, making you grab his wrist to pry it away from your now closed eyes.

Shaking his head, Jungkook went back to focus on his writing and next thing he knew, he had finished and submitted it just in time – five minutes before midnight to be exact.

Jungkook let out a yawn as he stretched his whole body by extending his arms upward and twisting his body from side to side. He inched the chair closer against the side of the bed so he could lay down his head atop of his arms to take a quick nap.

Looking at you, fast asleep and so peaceful, Jungkook chuckled to himself at how he could clearly make out your wide open mouth behind the oxygen mask thus prompting him to prod your chin up to close your mouth only for you to open them again.

His gaze remained on you and weirdly enough, a familiar sense of warmth overcame Jungkook, just like that day when he saw his mom and dad dancing in the living room therefore making him realize that maybe, suppressing these emotions won’t be of much help anymore.

--

Jungkook rushed towards the campus plaza after his classes to meet you there since you are both assigned to cover the Chuseok festivities in the campus for the school newspaper. He took out the laminated staff ID from his pocket, wearing it around his neck as he ran even faster once he heard the introduction speech of the hosts for today’s program booming through the speakers.

It took him another five minutes before he was able to get past through the barricades and stand right beside you at the side stage, considering the plaza was already packed when he got there. Jungkook had to squeeze his way through the crowd as he muttered a bunch of ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ to those who he had bumped onto accidentally in the process.

“I saved you some” you said, giving him a pack of Pumpkin Songpyeon that was distributed for free by the brand that’s sponsoring the event.

Jungkook first got his camera from his bag before he took the pack of rice cake from you, “Thanks.”

A group of girls dressed in blue and red traditional hanboks filled the stage once the host introduced them. They went on to form a circle as they joined their hands together to perform a dance of Ganggangsullae. Raising his camera, he looked into the viewfinder as he set on to capture the performance that is until you nudged his shoulder

A blurred shot of the performance then displayed on his camera’s screen, causing him to tighten his lips as he looked over at you to question why you had to ruin his shot but you were busy shaking your pointer finger towards the performers on stage.

“Oh Jungkook, isn’t that Cho Hee?”, you said, “She’s gotten prettier.”

The girls in the circle are now crouched down as they languidly swing their arms side to side, surrounding the two girls dancing in the middle of the circle and sure enough, Jungkook now recognized one of the two girls wearing the red hanbok to be his ex-girlfriend.

Honestly, it has been a while since he last saw Cho Hee around and he could thank the massive campus for it. He’s actually glad to see her perform up there, knowing that his bitter feelings for her have naturally subdued which could only mean that he had actually moved on from her.

Junkook chose to ignore your remarks as he then proceeded to take a few shots until he got satisfied with it. The performance soon ended with all of the girls going down to the side of the stage where the both of you are standing and he pretended to review his shots, knowing how awkward it always gets when he gets to see his exes by chance.

“Cho Hee! you were great up there” you said as you approach Cho Hee to grab her arm.

Did you really have to talk to her?

“Ah thank you” Cho Hee smiled, bowing his head shyly at you and then she looked at him, “Hi.”

“Hi”, Jungkook raised his hand to do a little wave.

You could definitely feel the awkwardness radiating between the two when you looked over them as they tried to look anywhere else except at each other’s gaze.

“It’s so nice to see you again” you spoke up, making it easier for the two.

“Yeah, you too” Cho Hee said, “Anyway, i need to change backstage so i guess, i’ll see you around and by the way, Happy Chuseok!”

“Happy Chuseok”,  Jungkook said in unison with you.

“Well, that was awkward” you chuckled as you imitated Jungkook’s awkward ‘Hi’ greeting to Cho Hee.

Jungkook shook his head at you as he opened the pack of Songpyeon to snack on, “How are you and Seashell?” he asked, changing the topic.

“Stop calling him that” you pinched his arm but laugh nonetheless at how Jungkook stuck to calling Minho that obnoxious nickname ever since that incident, “We’re good. Actually, he’s going home with me tomorrow to meet my parents.”

Well, that’s surprising. You’ve never taken home any of your past boyfriends for the holidays or maybe it’s just the fact that they didn’t last long enough to celebrate a special holiday like this whereas it looks like Minho is in it for the long run but isn’t it too early to introduce him to your family?

“Oh you’re leaving early?” Jungkook asked, completely ignoring the fact about Minho.

“Yeah, how about you?”

“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Jungkook can’t fully understand what you see in Minho and he doesn’t get it either why your relationship with him seems too fast but who is he to complain like that anyway?

You’re now happy and Jungkook doesn’t want to ruin that just because he had doubts about Minho although you clearly know already how much he dislikes your boyfriend. Jungkook just wants what’s best for you because that’s how a friend should think, is it? This is definitely not rooting from something else.

After the event, you went your separate ways with you saying that you still have to ready and pack up your belongings for tomorrow whilst Jungkook spent the rest of his day inside his dorm to just lay around and watch his roommate pack up like what everyone else is probably doing.

The highway traffic is always the worst before the eve of Chuseok as everyone is scampering to spend the start of the holiday in their respective hometowns while Jungkook took the smart idea of travelling to Busan on the eve itself since everyone’s home by then and the traffic is much lighter.

It was already past noon when Jungkook woke up the next day to see that his roommate already left. He snuggled closer to his pillow, closing his eyes to go back to sleep again since there’s really nothing important for him to do for the whole day so he might as well get that well deserved sleep for all of those all-nighters he went through this semester.

Jungkook groaned as he heard the blaring sound of the alarm on his phone go off when he’s certain that he had not set up an alarm. Nonetheless, he patted the space beside him to blindly search for the device, pressing the home button so he could peacefully go back to dreamland.

He was slowly drifting off to sleep again when his phone went off again and this time, he opened his eyes as he looked over the screen to notice that it was not an alarm but it’s a phone call from you.

“Jungkook”

“Hmm?” he drawled out a low hum as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Are you doing anything now?”

“I was sleeping but why?” he said with his eyes still closed, wondering why you're calling him.

“Can you meet me up at Soundcheck?”

Jungkook sat himself up as he looked over at his window to see that the sun was beginning to set, “Aren’t you back at home with Minho?”

“Hmm there’s a change of plan so hurry, i’m already here” you ended the call before he could even ask you more about it.

Well, it looks like sleeping in isn’t an option anymore. Jungkook yawned as he stood up lazily, ruffling his hair whilst he walked towards the bathroom to take a quick shower.

He could not be bothered to take out his comfy casual clothes that he had already packed in his duffle bag so he had just set on to wear whatever is left in his closet – a simple white t-shirt and a nice pair of ripped denim jeans plus a black windbreaker to protect him from the cold.

It’s quite strange to see how the street outside his complex looks almost empty or rather the whole area surrounding the university looks like a ghost town with the majority of the establishments closed prior to the holiday.

Soundcheck is approximately just a seven minute walk from his dorm that’s why it didn’t take too long for him to arrive there. As usual, Hyunseok greeted him, telling him that you and him might be the only customers he’ll be having tonight.

Jungkook headed straight to the room where you are to see you already belting out the lyrics to Since U Been Gone as soon as he opened the door. Not wasting any time further, Jungkook grabbed the other mic off the couch, joining you as he went on full crazy with you by bobbing your heads along to the beat.

It all went like that until Jungkook slumped back on the couch by the fourth song, all out of breath as he tried to take a rest for a while. On the other hand, you’re still energetic as ever and maybe, the two empty bottles of beer on the table is a very clear indication.

Wait.

That’s very unusual of you, considering you could only tolerate one bottle or less of alcohol and any amount more than that will make you a drunken mess in a matter of time – you’re a lightweight drinker after all.

Suddenly, Jungkook remembered the reason why he is here in the first place yet he still ought to know why you’re here, drinking way too much for your liking when you should be back at your hometown to introduce Minho to your family.

“I’ll have that” he snatched your supposedly third beer from your hand as he took a swig that had you complaining at him.

“There’s two more in the bucket!” you whined with your brows furrowed in annoyance.

Jungkook smiled knowing that he got you annoyed but it’s more of the fact that you look rather adorable than menacing. Of course, you wouldn’t take his delight too well as you rolled your eyes at him and proceeded to get another bottle in the bucket instead.

“Don’t be too greedy. Why don’t you save me some?” Jungkook took a hold of your arm that’s already extending towards the bucket of beer as he pulled you down to sit beside him into which you thankfully obliged.

You used Jungkook’s arm on the headrest to cushion your head against as you blankly stared at the ceiling and you felt your eyelids getting heavier once you felt the drowsiness setting in. Scooting closer, you moved your head on Jungkook’s shoulder as you closed your eyes.

“Sing me a song.”

You must’ve thought that Jungkook didn’t hear you when he made no move to grab the remote and pick a song, considering you murmured the words to him but he caught you by surprise when he started to sing an acapella of Alaina Castillo’s Sad Girl much exactly to what you’re feeling right now.

Jungkook’s honey like voice reverberated around the room and you always love how soft and warm his voice is, adding up to the already comforting touches he’s giving you.

Jungkook held you tighter as he enveloped his arms around your shoulder, reeling you in whilst you nuzzled further into his neck as you absentmindedly took a whiff of his cologne – you can’t help it, he just smells so good all the time.

You're supposed to be back at home to introduce Minho to your entire family yet here you are, cuddling up on Jungkook's side. It’s oddly unfamiliar to have Jungkook be this close to you but it’s strangely good and you can’t tell if you want yourself to be familiarized with this kind of setting.

Opening your eyes, you observed Jungkook’s other hand on his lap, laying ever so close to yours and you may or may not have the urge to hold his hand out of nowhere but you were brought out of your thoughts before you could even give in when Jungkook finished the song.

Jungkook went on to hum a soulful tune that you can’t point out if it originated from a song or if he had just made it up but it’s not like you actually mind. You’re at least thankful for having Jungkook to be just here for you even though it was a spontaneous invite. Still, he made the effort to go here and you think that’s enough for your spirits to be lifted up, at least for a little while.

“I broke up with Minho.”

Jungkook glanced down at you, surprised that those words came out of your mouth though he had a hunch that something bad happened between you and Minho as soon as you called him but he didn’t fully expect for you to end things with him, not when you were so ecstatic to bring him home just yesterday.

“What happened?” he tried to lower down his head to take a look at you but he’s unable to, given that your hair has now made its way to your face, making him tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I just realized that he’s not the right person i’d want to introduce to my family.”

Well, that’s a pretty vague answer but before he could question you for more, Hyunseok appeared by the door.

“Hey guys…” Hyunseok’s voice faltered once he took in the view of you both cuddled up close but of course, that didn’t quite last long as you separate yourself from Jungkook, “Um i’m closing early tonight which i mean is in fifteen minutes – just a heads up though!”

“Okay” you both said at the same time and once Hyunseok is out of the room, you stand up all of a sudden to grab the mic and remote off the table.

“We better sing then” you said with a bright smile on your face like you just didn’t gloomily tell him how you had just gotten out of a relationship.

Jungkook assumed that maybe your break up is still too sensitive for you to talk about and maybe you weren’t meant to break out the news just yet. Of course, he’ll respect that until you’re ready to tell him although he’s dying to know what went wrong.

In a span of fifteen minutes, Jungkook was quite spent from trying to squeeze in a whole lot of songs to sing and he was also getting tipsy from gulping down the remaining bottles just so you could not drink any further though you’ve managed to sneakily sip just a bit from his.

“To Eomma’s!” you said once the doors of the elevator opened, darting immediately towards the direction of the restaurant that was disappointingly close already.

“Oh man” Jungkook scratched his head as he stood right next to you while you both stared at the closed signage by the door, “guess we just have to find another place.”

Jungkook slung his arm around your shoulder when he saw how you looked like you were walking on two left feet. You both wandered off the streets to look for any open restaurants you could walk into but it looks like you wouldn’t even find one no matter how hard you look everywhere.

“There’s nowhere for us to go” you pouted, planting your hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna head back?”

“Mmm no”, you shook your head, “I don’t want to be alone just yet.”

Glancing down, Jungkook examined your face to see if you’re doing okay but you're completely devoid of any emotions because you looked like you're spacing out instead.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks to tease you only for you to swat his hand away. In return, you turned your head sideways as you playfully bit on Jungkook’s arm, causing him to remove his arm off of you.

“Ow!”,  Jungkook chuckled, “Where do you want to go then?”

You looked up as you try to rack your brain of where you could possibly go at this hour but Jungkook’s adamant on being a little shit right now as he continues to bother you further by bumping his hip against yours to which of course, you retaliated back with an even stronger force and you both went on with it until you eventually lose your balance that had you landing on your bum.

“Ah look what happened”, you take a closer look at your palm, inspecting the new formed graze you got when you tried to lessen the impact of your fall by planting your hand down on the concrete.

“Sorry” Jungkook crouched down on your level, taking your hand to dust the dirt off your palm and to also pull you up with him, keeping you back on his side again by intertwining your arms since you’re prone to hurting yourself lately – emotionally and physically wise speaking.

“So, where now?” Jungkook asked as he rested his head sideways against yours.

“Ew, can’t you talk properly? Your saliva is sputtering on my face” you wiped your cheek as you disgustingly looked at Jungkook.

“That’s not me”, Jungkook widened his eyes at your accusation when he could also feel something wet on his face, more so when he looked up towards the night sky, “Oh? is it going to rain?”

As if on cue, the heavy rain poured, leaving you with only a little time to save yourselves as you both giggly made your way over the sidewalk where you took shelter under the canopy roof of a coffee shop.

Jungkook took in the familiar surroundings and he easily distinguished where the both of you are, “My dorm’s nearby, do you want to stay there for a while?”

“Sure” you said, letting Jungkook take your hand as he guided you, even pointing out the puddles you should avoid but you ended up stepping on some of them, making the both of you laugh.

Upon entering the lobby of Jungkook’s dorm, the security guard blatantly give you weird looks just because you’re both a giggling mess for no apparent reason at all although you stopped midway to apologetically bow your head to him before Jungkook dragged you towards the elevator in a hurry.

You observed your appearance once you had taken a good look of yourself against the mirrored elevator doors. Luckily, you’ve only gotten wet patches throughout your green sweatshirt and leggings but water began to pool around your white tennis shoes because of how drenched it is.

“Doesn’t this sound too dirty?” you laughed as you lightly stomp your feet to produce the wet sloppy sound that totally mimics a sound of two people making out or just having sex in general.

Jungkook smiled as he scratched his brows, finding it ridiculous that you’re starting to voice out your weird thoughts so indiscreetly, “You’re weird.”

Obviously, the weirder thing is that Jungkook has been staring at your joined hands through the whole ride up and it’s inexplicable how nice it is to feel your soft and warm ones against his own that he can’t bring himself to break away the contact, well as long as you allow him to.

Disappointingly, you managed to let go of his hand when you got inside his room so you could discard your wet shoes and socks before going inside the bathroom. Jungkook sat down on the chair, removing his windbreaker and untying his shoes as well.

“Your roommate has gone home already?” you asked as you went over to Jungkook’s bed to lay down.

Jungkook nodded his head as he opened the drawer to get a strip of band aid, alcohol, and a tissue to tend for your graze.

“Have you washed your hands?” Jungkook looked over you as you nodded your head at him. You hissed as soon as Jungkook pressed the tissue he soaked in alcohol onto your graze, finishing it with a band-aid.

“How cute that you have this”, you smiled as you ran your fingers along the green band-aid with teddy bear patterns on it.

“It was Cho Hee’s”

“Oh”, you didn’t mean to sound so disheartened but your tone just came out like that, “Do you still have her things?”

“No, i just didn’t bother to throw out little things like this”

You slowly nodded as you felt your chest tighten for reasons you still ought to know but you quickly dismissed the feeling, laying yourself down on Jungkook’s bed while Jungkook just sat on the side.

Sometimes, you’re curious to know how Jungkook still manages to have faith in love despite being taken for granted by his past lovers – which you hate to see happen to him – or just being unfortunate in general but the question eventually slips your mind before you could even ask him about it.

“Do you still believe in love, Jungkook?” your gaze fell on him and he locked his phone, looking up to meet your eyes with a warm smile.

“Yeah”, Jungkook said with no hesitation as the natural lover he is.

“Why?” you asked, wanting to know his point of view and maybe you could try to learn a thing or two from him.

Jungkook thought about it for a minute before redirecting the question to you instead, curious to know what you have to say, “Why don’t you tell me first? Do you believe in love, Y/N?”

“I guess so” you answered unsurely.

“You guess so?” Jungkook knitted his brows, tilting his head sideways.

“Well, don’t we love because we want to be loved?”

Jungkook shook his head, disagreeing from your statement, “Love should always start from yourself.”

After he had said that, you looked back up the ceiling again as if you’re deep in thought whilst Jungkook just focused on picking up the loose thread along his ripped jeans. Not too long, Jungkook laid back a bit in an opposite position from yours, resting his weight against his elbow on the mattress as he pinched the bridge of his nose to fight off the sleep that’s slowly starting to get him.

“Am i beautiful?” you asked out of nowhere.

Your eyes are still fixated towards the ceiling when he looks over you, unsure at where this question is coming from and why you had said it so suddenly.

“Why are you asking this?” Jungkook nervously chuckled while you just remained silent, prompting him to actually answer your question to not throw you off, “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

Jungkook tried to gauge your reaction but you’re not even showing any emotion at all when you’re completely lost looking at the ceiling ever since, thinking that maybe you’re just spewing out nonsense.

Laying down completely, Jungkook felt his eyelids getting heavier by the second no matter how hard he tried to fight the sleepiness away although at the end, he eventually gave in as he fluttered his eyes shut.

“Do you love me?”

Jungkook was caught off guard, prompting him to open his eyes as he asked himself if he just happened to hear your voice in his dream but he’s not that deep into his sleep yet for that to occur.

“Did you say something?” Jungkook asked, trying to make sure he heard it right.

“Do you love me, Jungkook?” you repeated but this time you sat up as you set your eyes on him instead of the ceiling.

Mimicking you, Jungkook sat himself up, facing you completely as he rubbed his hand against the nape of his neck, “Of course.”

“I mean, not as friends but... Is it possible that you could love me more than that?” you clarified as you await Jungkook's answer with such an intense stare that had him shying away, making him avert his eyes elsewhere as he thought of what he should even reply to that.

You broke out an awkward laugh when you noticed that you’ve made him uncomfortable by putting him on the spot, “Sorry, i wasn’t thinking straight.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why he just had to grab your arm when you’re about to lay down again but it’s like his body acted for him and ignored the warning signals his mind had sent him. Courage striked through as he bore his eyes into you while he said the words he thought would’ve never come out of him.

“I do love you”, Jungkook muttered before he could even regret saying it.

Not even a second later, he felt his sudden act of courage dwindling down right when he saw you widening your eyes but he had never expected for you to follow through by cupping his face with one of your hands as you went on to move intimately closer, so close that he could make out the raw skin of your lips that possibly resulted off of your bad habit of picking its dry skin.

“Y/N…” he whispered as a fair warning yet it sounds more like a lure.

All this time, he was standing on the edge, asking himself if he should move forward to jump and take the risk although it’s the unknown final outcome he fears the most – will it be a safe landing? or will it be a tormented crash?

There’s no time for him to hold back anymore as he had already let himself fall completely and  Jungkook couldn’t care any less about his fickle thoughts when he averted his gaze away from your lips to your now closed eyes, making him do the same once he felt your lips collide with his.

Jungkook was just taking in how warm your lips felt but you pulled away as soon as you kissed him and he didn’t have to open his eyes to tell that you’ve not completely backed away from him when he could still feel your hot breath inches from his lips, leaving him wanting for more.

Wasting no time, Jungkook grabbed your shoulders as he tilted his head more to the side, opting to close the minimal space between you and that’s where things began to get pretty heated.

You deepened the kiss more as you placed your hand on Jungkook’s nape whilst the other rested on his chest. On the other hand, Jungkook eventually got his hands down to your waist and you responded by readjusting your position, straddling him with your legs placed on both sides of his lap.  

It was then a constant pull between you two as you let yourselves be sucked in a state of euphoria and this is when Jungkook knew that he’s mindlessly falling dangerously fast and hard, making it thrilling yet scary at the same time that he has no assurance to hold on to but it’s not like he’s putting his mind to think of it right now.

Jungkook moved his hand towards your hair as he loosened the piece of elastic around it, letting your hair flow down as he threaded his fingers through it until his hands eventually came across your nape, reeling you in closer as if he’s trying to get rid of any non-existent space, if that’s even possible.

You broke away for a second as you hastily discarded your sweatshirt off and Jungkook’s mind immediately short circuited, eyes travelling down from your face and down to your upper half body that’s barely covering you with the help of your neon pink sports bra that had him smiling in amusement.

“What?” you raised your brows in a teasing manner.

“Cute”

Jungkook’s smile waned off as he felt your lips leave wet trails of kisses along his jaw and down to his neck, causing him to close his eyes in pleasure whilst he bit on his lip to try to keep his moans at a minimum.

Having you like this is totally driving him insane and on edge but as much as he wants to go on further, this feels very unsettling considering you’re both intoxicated and Jungkook had to put a stop before this goes too far.

He gently pushed your shoulders, creating a space between you two, “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

Jungkook pretty much looks like he’s still trapped in a daze but you could tell that he’s just holding it off, confusing you out as to why until you had finally come to your senses – you asked him a stupid question and one thing led to another and you’ve come to not realize until now that you’re sitting on his lap, half naked you might add.

Embarrassed, you froze in place, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes as you crossed your arms across your chest and stomach, feeling conscious all of a sudden like you didn’t initiate the whole thing.

It didn’t go unnoticed for Jungkook to know how you suddenly felt uncomfortable so he searched for your sweatshirt around his room to give it to you but it ended up at the top of his closet and it’s not like he could stand to reach for it when you’re still sitting on his lap.

Jungkook was quick to tug the end of his white shirt, raising it over his head which gave you the chance to ogle at his surprisingly toned chest and abs, making you fluster as you weren’t even aware that his body is this fit and he’s just been hiding it under those oversized clothing of his.

“Raise your arms”, Jungkook demanded.

You blinked as you averted your eyes back on his face, just in time to catch him smirking at you. Nonetheless, you obey as you did what is told even though you’re completely clueless as to why he’s asking you to do so.

“Better?” he asked after he slipped his shirt over your head, smoothing some of your hair that he eventually messed up in the process of kissing you.

You nodded as you held his face with your right hand, smiling fondly when he leaned into your touch and you hate how this moment itself is making you emotional for reasons you don’t even want to remember right now.

“Do you really mean it?” you asked, pertaining to his unexpected confession, “that...you love me?”

Jungkook went on to caress your hair, only pausing as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your forehead before he lowered his head to match yours, deeply staring into your eyes as he took a deep breath to shake off his nerves. He was already falling, so what difference would it make it if he held back just to slow down a little bit?

“It has always been you”, Jungkook whispered in a low hum.

Closing your eyes, you heaved a content sigh, circling your legs around his body to pull him in closer as you lowered your head to rest them against his shoulder, arms snaking around his lower back ever so tightly.

Whereas, Jungkook had his arm around your shoulder whilst his other hand remained at the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and you’ve come to learn that he must love to do that, finding it so endearing of him.

This seems perfect and meaningful, it really is, but you can’t help but feel awfully unfair.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked once he felt you trembling but your crying had only gotten worse with that question, catching him off guard at the sudden change of events.

Jungkook tried to pry you away to take a better look at you but you won’t let him when you just hugged him tighter in return. Stunned, he questioned himself if he had said or done something wrong to upset you or was he just being too much that he got you overwhelmed?

You had finally broken away, breathing raggedly as you quickly wiped your tear stained cheeks, making Jungkook’s concern grow more.

“Hey” Jungkook whispered, sliding his thumb across your cheeks to wipe your tears but you subtly pushed his hand away as you removed yourself off his lap to sit instead near the headboard of his bed, creating a distance between you two.

Crossing your legs, you let your head hang low so your hair could completely block your face away from Jungkook, making it hard for him to read you but your body language speaks for itself and he thought that maybe, he had misread the whole situation.

“I’m so-”

“I caught Minho cheating on me” you broke out the news after you’ve taken a deep breath.

“What?” Jungkook gaped his mouth in surprise, eyes widening as he replayed the words over and over again into his head.

“I went to his dorm unannounced yesterday and when I opened the door i-” you buried your face into your hands as you broke out into a sob again.

“You don’t have to continue that”, Jungkook inched closer as he was about to give you a hug but he was reminded of how you had pushed him away seconds ago thus making him retract his hand away that’s been hovering above your shoulder for quite a while. Instead, he gave you some space as he could only helplessly watch you.

Anger bubbled up inside him and he was furious, knowing how much love and effort you have poured for your shit of an ex-boyfriend. Jungkook had finally claimed his doubts that he’s up to no good yet you always dismiss him because of how you truly love and believe in him.

Jungkook propped his fist against his temple, watching you worriedly but he’s just glad that you’ve managed to calm down a bit, “I think you need to take a rest now.”

“Okay” you nodded, standing up and walking over to get your still soaked shoes.

“You could stay... If you want” Jungkook stammered as he scratched his head.

You stare at your tennis shoes, deciding whether to wear it or put it back but you guess that the latter option is more reasonable just because it’s much more comfortable to wear these shoes dry anyway but that’s just an excuse your mind made up for you to believe.

“Sure”, you said, joining Jungkook to sit at the side of his bed.

“Okay”

“I’m just going to wash my face” you excused yourself before it gets too awkward.

While you were inside the bathroom, Jungkook got up towards his closet, getting himself another shirt and also taking off his pants, leaving him only in his boxer shorts. He headed back to his bed, getting under the covers as he laid on his back to look at the ceiling and think of this night that had him running his hand along his face.

He has come to know now that you’ve asked him those questions because you just need to be reassured and so you could also stray away from those insecurities that Minho has now planted on you.

Jungkook hates how he could be so naive at times but could you blame him for being unaware? For taking the chance you don’t even fully intend to give to begin with? But shouldn’t he be grateful at least that he was able to grasp that chance for a little while even though he knows it’s only a matter of make-believe? And by that, he can’t help but feel a pang on his chest.

Were you just using him to get over Minho?

There wasn’t enough time for him to ponder much over it when he heard the knob of the bathroom door twisting and he went to scoot to the other side, giving you enough space to lay on.

As you laid down, Jungkook tried his best to set aside his own feelings for your sake, reminding himself that you’re the one he should be worrying about more but that doesn’t erase the fact that you’re not just the only one hurting here.

“You good?” Jungkook asked as he felt the bed dipped.

“Yeah”, you whispered.

“I knew there’s something wrong with him ever since that emergency room incident”, Jungkook said, filling in the void.

“Actually, he lied about picking up his sister. He went over to see his ex that night” you said with such contempt in your voice.

“Oh wow”, he said, turning his head sideways to look at you, “Do you want me to beat the shit out of him so that he could actually end up staying in the emergency room this time?”

Jungkook tried to make the mood lighter and somehow, his statement earned a chuckle from you although the awkward silence made its way back once again.

“Jungkook, about-”

“We should sleep” Jungkook cut you off, choosing not to hear what you have to say, knowing that you’re probably going to bring up about the events before. Call him a coward but some things are better left unsaid and he would appreciate it if you spare him his pride, at least for tonight.

Even though it’s completely dark in his room, he could definitely feel your eyes on him and thought that maybe, his words came out way too harshly than he thought, “I mean, we should talk in the morning when our minds are clear”, Jungkook offered you a smile as he went on to return your stare.

“Yeah, i agree”, you momentarily looked at him, “Good night, Jungkook”

You turned on your side with your back facing him and he didn’t try to let the still visible tension between you two bother him so much, deciding to himself that it’s better to just deal with it tomorrow in the morning as what you’ve agreed on.

“Good night, Y/N”, Jungkook turned to face the wall, closing his eyes as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

As the morning came, Jungkook ended up lying on his stomach with the side of his face pressed on top of his hand. The sunlight shining directly on his eyes made him knit his brows in his sleep as he tossed and turned over to try to avoid it but the light won’t certainly leave him alone as stubborn as it is.

Groaning, he begrudgingly fluttered his eyes open, squinting them until his eyes could fully adjust to the bright light. Honestly, Jungkook thought that you’ll be the first thing he’ll see this morning but he was puzzled to see instead the white shirt he was wearing last night, rather you were wearing last night to be neatly folded next to him.

Jungkook propped himself up on his elbows as he scanned the room to see that your green sweatshirt is not atop of his closet anymore or how your soaked white tennis shoes are also missing and he started to doubt himself if he had just too much to drink to imagine all of it but that clearly wasn’t the case when he saw your hair tie is still around his wrist.

Sighing, Jungkook let himself fall back down on the mattress as he squeezed his eyes shut only for him to open them again to stare at the ceiling that’s seemingly getting farther and farther away from him as he feels himself sinking down along with his heavy heart.

And just like that, you were gone.

--

Who would’ve known that winning first in Uno is this boring? More so when he’s stuck to watch the remaining eight players draw more and more cards, making the game seem endless. Bored as hell, Jungkook chose to just lay back on the couch, snacking on a bowl of peanuts as he eventually slowly lost focus, mind drifting particularly to that night.

What if he didn’t invite you over to his dorm? What if he didn’t confess? What if you never kissed him? What if the reason you left him in the morning is because your bus is scheduled to depart early? Or could you possibly intend to just leave him there with not a single word?

A month of no communication perfectly backs up his thoughts that you had indeed intended to leave him there and all these questions that still managed to plagued Jungkook’s mind are just a product of his wishful thinking.

Since then, he hasn’t heard from you and he didn’t try to bother reaching out too, unsure if you still consider him as a friend but you have obviously drawn the line ever since you left him that morning, making him guess that he’s now a stranger to you.

Although he can’t help but still cling to this little hope inside his mind and give you the benefit of the doubt that maybe, you haven’t totally cut your ties with him but that’s just proper bullshit.

It is what it is.

Sighing, Jungkook got his phone out of his pocket as he scrolled on it, not really in the mood to socialize anymore in Sunwoo’s Halloween Party. He would’ve gone home and left the party if he could but he carpooled on his way here with his friend, leaving him no choice but to stay and wait.

“I’ll just go outside”, Jungkook told his friend as he got up to make his way outside the backyard. Along the way, someone suddenly slung their arm around his shoulder just as he was about to open the sliding door.

“Jungkook!” said the man dressed in a Darth Vader costume.

“Oh Sunwoo”, Jungkook greeted him as soon as he removed his mask, greeting him in a hug.

“I’m glad you could make it”, Sunwoo smiled as he looked him up from head to toe, trying to make out his costume, “What are we wearing tonight?”

Jungkook let out a chuckle as he observed his costume, wondering if his silver chain mail shirt paired with an arm armor doesn’t give away that he’s clearly dressing up as a medieval knight or specifically, that he’s dressing up as Leonardo Dicaprio in the movie Romeo + Juliet, just like as you planned.

“Oh i’m dressing up as Leonardo Dicaprio’s Romeo character” he explained the costume you had forced him to buy and the only reason he’s wearing it is because it’ll be a waste of money if he’ll just let it gather dust in his closet.

“And where’s your Juliet?”

Maybe, it is a bad idea wearing this costume if he’s just going to be asked that question for the nth time tonight as he’s just making a complete fool out of himself or perhaps, pitiful more so.

“Well, i’m still looking for my Juliet” he smiled and hoped he’s not going to say that cringy reply anymore for tonight.

Sunwoo chuckled as he leaned closer to Jungkook, whispering, “In that case, you don’t have to look too hard.”

Jungkook knitted his brows at Sunwoo who just winked at him as he patted his shoulder before disappearing in the crowd to communicate more with the guests as the host he is. Nonetheless, he just shrugged it off as he got himself out in the backyard and took a breather away from the party he’s not really fond of at all.

Well, it’s rather peaceful and quiet out here except for the muffled music coming inside the house and he wished he would have come here sooner if he had only known that he’ll be having the backyard all to himself.

Jungkook sat himself down on the wooden garden swing and it enabled him to get a nice view of the perfect clear sky, surprising him even at the sight of the rare blue moon, prompting him to get his phone so he could capture the moon in all its glory.

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Jungkook looked at the picture and he wished he could’ve brought his camera here to give the moon’s beauty justice but since that won’t do, he laid his head to the side to rest as he kept his gaze on the moon, not even noticing that he’s slowly being lulled to sleep by the swing.

“There you are”

Jungkook opened his eyes, surprised to see you staring down at him with a wide grin, chuckling even at how his eyes got bigger.

“I heard you’ve been looking for me”,  you said as you rounded up the swing, taking the space next to Jungkook.

Rubbing his eyes, Jungkook sniggered in embarrassment as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Did Sunwoo tell you that?”

“Well, he just said that there’s a medieval knight looking for his angel and I just knew it had to be you”, you chuckled.

“And how could you be so sure about that?” Jungkook raised his brow in a teasing manner.

“You’re Romeo and I’m Juliet. We planned this, remember?”, you said as your smile faltered after having said that, speaking more in a whisper, “I just didn’t know you’d still go through with it.”

Glancing at you, he gets to take in your costume for the very first time with your white dress that extends up to your knees, your little angel wings, and your hair tied up in a half ponytail with braids and wisps of hair falling at each side of your face.

He averted his eyes away the second you catched him looking, causing him to look back at the sky, pretending as if the blue moon were much more worthy of his attention although he’s  confused or possibly intrigued to say the least as to why you’re talking so casually to him when he could still clearly remember that you don’t want to do anything about him anymore.

“How have you been?” he asked, choosing to talk casually as well if that’s what you want.

“Nothing much, really”, you shook your head but later snapped your fingers as if remembering something, “Oh! I actually got a perfect score on that Marxism essay.”

“Really? Congrats!”

“So i guess you have to treat me at Eomma’s huh?”

Jungkook stroked his chin, looking up as if he’s trying to remember, “Did I say that?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t say that” you laughed as you shoved him but quickly regretted it when he almost fell off the swing, causing you to grab his arm as you put your other hand to cover your mouth, stifling your laugh.

“Do you have a grudge on me or something?” Jungkook put his finger in the middle of your forehead, chuckling at how you closed your eyes and scrunched your face as you waited for the impact of his flickering finger.

Somehow, laughter ensued between the two of you and this weird sense of familiarity crept over him, putting a smile on his face that is until you spoke up.

“I’ve missed you”

Jungkook turned to look at his fiddling fingers on his lap as he bit on his lip to hold back himself from returning those words he has been wanting to say to you ever since he saw your face but he’s afraid he’ll end up hurting again.

“I love you, Jungkook”

Jungkook felt his heart twinge, not in excitement but in pain as he let out a chuckle that sounded albeit scornful.

“You can’t just say that and expect everything to be okay”, Jungkook said in a venomous tone, making the big elephant in the room much more obvious now.

“I know and I’m sorry i should’ve stayed for us to talk but...” you stopped, hesitating to continue your sentence.

“But what?”

You rapidly blinked your eyes as you try not to get too emotional, unsure if you should even lay out this information but Jungkook deserves to know why you had left him that morning even though it’ll hurt him more.

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes before you could talk, “Minho called me that morning to meet up with me and i don’t know… i just ended up taking him back.”

Jungkook looked at you incredulously, finding it hard to believe at why you would take your cheating ex-boyfriend back and he felt himself getting furious that had him rolling his eyes at you.

“Minho cheated on you!” Jungkook raised his voice in anger as he twisted his body to face you.

“I know that I’m stupid, okay!? But he was willing to change and fix things up so i gave him a chance to redeem himself”

“Still, why would you take him back?”

You’re starting to get irritated with Jungkook’s questions that is outright making you look much more pathetic when you know that he doesn’t have to shove it in your face for you to acknowledge it but he’s pushing you to level with his anger and you’re afraid you can’t bite back your tongue anymore.

“It’s because I loved him and I knew that from the moment I found myself feeling guilty when I kissed you, wishing it was him instead of you”, you said only for you to widen your eyes as you cover your mouth in shock.

In that instant, Jungkook’s felt his anger subside into dejection, leaving him speechless and you knew that you had to act fast to explain to him that you’ve just said those words out of anger when you saw that he was about to hop off the swing.

“I didn’t mean to say that”, you held him back by grabbing his arm.

“Then you probably didn’t mean to say that you love me”, Jungkook hopped off as he walked in long strides to get back inside and be just out of here just like what he originally wanted.

“Jungkook, please just hear me out one last time” you pleaded desperately as you stood in front of him, blocking him from opening that sliding door.

“What more do you have to say?” Jungkook scorned.

“Me and Minho just lasted for a week before i called it quits-” you tried to deliver your point as fast as possible before he tries to get away one more time but Jungkook is just persistent to not listen at all although it’s not like you could blame him for being that way – you broke his heart after all.

“Aren’t you done breaking my heart? Is it too much to ask if i’d beg for you to spare me another one?”, Jungkook creased his brows in pain, “Look, I’ve had my heart broken too many times to get used to it but you – you’re like all of my past heartbreaks combined perhaps even worse.”

It was evident that you’re completely floored at his statement and Jungkook took the chance to sidestep you but you were quick to snap out of it as you stubbornly took a hold of his hand to drag him towards the middle of Sunwoo’s backyard.

“Jungkook, please just-”, you sighed as you let the tears you’ve been trying to hold back stream down your face, “Please just hear me out.”

Jungkook softened at the sight of you crying, wanting to wipe the tears off of your face but he reminded himself that he needed to stand his ground thus he crossed his arms as he waited for you to collect yourself and speak up.

“I broke up with Minho because I realized that he’s not going to change no matter how much i’ll ask him to but that’s not the only thing I fail to realize”, you wiped your tears as you shake off your nerves but the sound of your voice cracking gave you away, “I love you, Jungkook and i might’ve realized that a bit late but that doesn’t mean i love you any less.”

You cried even more as you try to push out all of the words you’ve kept inside onto the table, partially scared at how much you’re letting Jungkook know all of your raw emotions but you’re done letting your worries about love control you, not when it had caused a lot of damage not only to you but to Jungkook.

“I love you not because i owe to return it back but because you care so much for me and i can see it in the little things you do like when you rushed towards my building just because i was crying over a bad presentation i did or how you always check up on me whenever i tweet something cryptic even though most of the time I’m just frustrated over a game of Candy Crush”, you chuckled midway, remembering how you tweeted an ‘i give up’ and seconds later, Jungkook is up on your messages, asking how you are when in fact, you’re just ‘giving up’ because you can’t move on to the next level.

You sniffled as you smiled, standing closer to Jungkook to cup one side of his face onto your hand, looking at him intently with fondness written all over your eyes, “In all seriousness, I do love you because you taught and showed me what love is supposed to look like.”

Jungkook grabbed your hand off of his face as he also grabbed your other, enclosing them around with his hands, looking down at it as if he’s trying to contemplate first the whole thing which makes it more unnerving for you, wondering if you’ve come forward to lay your true feelings down perhaps a little bit too late.

“Y/N, I appreciate those words, I truly do but I hope you’re not just saying that because you see me as a rebound”, Jungkook laid out his concern as he let go of your hands.              

“You’re not a rebound, Jungkook” you widen your eyes, taking his hands back in yours as you try to convince him to believe your words.

With a somber smile, Jungkook squeezed your hands, “Don’t expect me to be the only one picking up the pieces, you should also be able to do it for yourself and not just me. I need you to be able to say that again when you’re completely whole.”

“What are you trying to say? Have I already lost you?” you said as your lips quivered.

Jungkook shook his head, thumb swiping over your cheeks to wipe your tears, “Even though you’ve broken my heart, you won’t lose me and that won’t ever happen because i’d still love you with all of my pieces.”

Overwhelmed, you headed straight towards Jungkook’s arms, causing him to step back with the sudden force as you hugged him tightly, relieved to hear that you weren’t too late after all.

“I’m so sorry Jungkook for everything, really and I swear that I'll build myself up first” you whispered as happy tears still managed to flow.

Jungkook kissed the top of your head, glad to hear you’re willing to do the best thing for yourself. He figured that diving into this relationship right away will just cause harm for the both of you, considering you still have a lot of things to figure out for yourself. You just have to take things slowly until the both of you eventually get there.

“I guess we'd have to invite eomma to our wedding, hm?” Jungkook suggested as he looked down on you.

“Is that a proposal?” you chuckled as you wiped your tear stained cheeks, creating a space between you although you’ve still kept your arms around his shoulders.

“How about a promise?” Jungkook raised his pinky finger.

“A promise then,” you giggled as you wrapped your pinky against his while you pulled him in by the shoulders, sealing the deal officially with a chaste kiss and a smile on both of your faces as you enveloped each other once again in an embrace.

You stayed like that for a little while, swaying each other side to side as you try to bask in each other’s warmth full of contentment, knowing full too well that all of those heartbreaks and pains you went through is meant to lead you to this exact moment and that concludes the story of how two lonely hearts who have lost their way in love have finally found each other.

--

A/N: Hi! It’s been a while since I last posted but here you go hehe although i have to say that i’ll be writing in a much slower pace from now on since i’ve become really busy irl and there’s just a lot going on, mentally speaking. I’ll still post stories from time to time though not as regularly as I used to so please look forward to my other ones in the future :)

P.S.: This is for you, Onigiri.

[ohagialpaca]

Fling Posse: “Catch Us If You Can” DRAMA TRACK | Fan Translation: Part 3

drama track

Notes: The scene changes to Gentaro and Dice in a deserted building, looking for Ramuda.

Dice: Are you sure he's really here?

Gentaro: Yes, by looking at the current conditions of this room, it's been turned-inside out.

Dice: Hm..he's not here though. Oi RAMUDA~A-mmph-!

Gentaro: What are you doing?? Are you an idiot, shouting like that at the top of your lungs?! You know we're being pursued as we speak!! Oh wait, you are an idiot, sorry for shouting at you just now; the truth sometimes hurts, doesn't it?

Dice: That statement hurts even more!

Ramuda: Aha~ha! You two love to joke a lot, even at times like this.

Dice: Oh Ramuda! Glad to see you're safe!

Ramuda: Peace! Peace!

Gentaro: I'm glad to see you're alright as well, after running away from the Kotosarai.

Ramuda: Yep~p! My sixth sense worked amazing and helped me escape from them!

Dice: So what now? Any more, and we're all gonna get caught.

Gentaro: How was your side of the plan?

Dice: It didn't work, they're all a step ahead of us. What about you Gentaro?

Gentaro: I did the best that I could, but all we can do now is hope for the best.

Ramuda: Well, whatever happens now, happens, because that’s how everything works in the world!

Dice: Hey Ramuda.

Ramuda: What's up Dice?

Dice: Since Chuohku is coming arrest us, You should run, even if it means to abandon both of us.

Gentaro: Dice is correct, if there is life, then there is hope. Even if the two of us get arrested and you are still alive, we can still have a chance to escape.

Ramuda: If I'm destined to die, then I'll fight to my death-!

Dice: What's wrong Ramuda?

Ramuda: You're...Honobono....

Honobono: Hehehehe...are you three done playing tag with us?

Ramuda: Tch.

Dice: Is that...the Kotosarai Unit..?

Honobono: Ara ara~ It seems like you two are planning to fight for Ramuda, hm?

Gentaro: Yes, that is correct.

Dice: We won't let you hurt him.

Honobono: That's really cute of you to do that. Your friendship is very beautiful, but watching so-called friendships like yours break apart is prettier hehehe!

Gentaro: Ramuda! Dice and I will buy as much time as we can, please go and escape though the back!

Ramuda: No, I will not-

Dice: Ramuda hurry up! Think that by running, you'll save Gentaro and I!

Kotosarai Member 1: Leader, what should we do?

Honobono: Let him go. it’s only a matter of time until we'll catch him. After all, the two 'specks of lice' won't be much of a match for me.

Gentaro: You seem so confident, I'll be looking forward to seeing your expression after she gets bitten by "specks of lice".

Dice: Hah! This is a gamble I can’t afford to lose to!!

*Gentaro and Dice rap about saving Ramuda*

Honobono: Oh look at this!

Dice: What the hell? No damage?

Gentaro: Kotosarai seems like a bigger obstacle now that I have encountered them for the first time.

Honobono: It's my turn now, but don't worry, I can take you both down all by myself~

*Honobono raps about Fling Posse's friendship and how she's going to end it*

Dice: Dammit! She's too powerful!

Gentaro: I can’t believe her strength either.

Honobono: Sigh. You both went below my expectations, I might as well put you both out of misery.

Kotosarai Member 1: Leader, killing them is against the rules!

Honobono: So what?

Gentaro: If we take another hit, we'll be goners.

Dice: Yep.

Honobono: Well then the next time you two will meet, it may be in Hell or your next lives, bye bye!

Ramuda: DONT YOU DARE! Don't you dare harm them!

Dice: You idiot! Why did you come back?!

Gentaro: It's not too late, go back!

Ramuda: Never! If you both are going down, I'm going down with you guys!

Gentaro: Ramuda!

Dice: Hahaha! If that's so, then we're gonna to fight together to win, not to lose.

Gentaro: Indeed. If we lose here, there is no going back.

Honobono: Fufu~ this is getting interesting!! The deeper the bond, the more fun it is to break it!

Ramuda: Get ready you two!!

Gentaro and Dice: Yeah!

*Fling Posse raps about their friendship as a group*

Honobono: Hm...seems like you three gotten a little better just now.

Dice: How is she still standing after that??

Gentaro: Truly a monster.

Ramuda: *coughs blood*

Gentaro and Dice: Ramuda!!

Honobono: Ara ara~ Ramuda-chan, are you suffering? How about I'll slowly, painfully end your life bit by bit? I'll start with your two precious little friends~

Ramuda: DAMMIT!!

*Ramuda raps directly to Honobono*

Honobono: Are you done playing around? You don't have the willpower to even use a hypnosis mic anymore. Now then, time to kill those two~

Kotosarai Member 1: Um...leader...are you just going to let them go?

Honobono: Huh? What do you mean, they're standing right in front of us...?! Those were...illusions...

_

[kiryuun-blog]

Attack on School Caste ep 4 english translation (Attack on titan drama CD)

Here’s the english translation of the 4th and last episode of the drama CD “Attack on School Caste”. Kind of sad it’s over but it was fun to translate ! Also, I’ve uploaded on my Youtube channel all of the episodes subbed, so check it out: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQXkQAha6FpPBkUTg1qB9rA/featured

Translation below:

After spending some time together, and confronting each other several times, they ended up exposing little by little their real personalities. And after they divulgated the reasons why they were in detention, they opened up about their worries and dreams.

A: The reason why I ended up in detention is only known to some of the teachers, and I haven't talked to anyone about it. If it was known, it would be a big problem. J: What the hell did you do ? A: To tell you the truth...with this laptop, World-kun, I created a pirate anime site. R: What ?! A pirate anime site ? I can't believe that. Well, I heard that around Somalia there were pirates, but to think that there was one in our school...and that you tainted your hands with that kind of business, using anime... H: Reiner, it's fine if you don't know about it but there's no need to be that surprised. R: Sorry... H: A pirate site is one that illegally uploads anime, and that is a crime. J: So that's the kind of site where you can watch anime without spending a penny, huh. R: I see. That's definitely not forgivable. M: A complete evil which no one can prevent. A: Yeah...you're right. Not only it's an infringement to copyrights, but it also infringes the rights of all the staff that worked hard to produce these animes. It's the worst, it also tramples on the audience that loves these animes. J: And why did you do that kind of thing ? A: Because I'm someone like that ! I'm made fun of at school for being a geek, I'm not good at sports and I'm not even good at studying, and I don't have a lot of friends. I'm a grandpa's kid and weak, and I can't even tell others what I want. I'm just a pathetic and worthless geek. And that's because I'm this kind of guy that I wanted to, at least, shine on the net ! At the beginning, it was just a site where I recommended my favorite animes, but then, the views increased and I was thanked in the comments, so I wanted even more popularity and started to upload illegally episodes. And one day I realized that it ended up being a complete illegal site. I couldn't bring myself to stop... R: When did you realize it was bad ? A: My friend, Marco, warned me, saying that this was a complete crime. And, in order to stop me, he talked about it with the teachers. J: Huh, so he snitched. That sounds like what a serious ass like him would do. A: But thanks to Marco, I finally realized what I was doing. So that's why I immediately closed the site and it didn't become a serious problem. Well, I ended up in detention though. J: To think that you were a potential criminal. H: That's not a potential criminal, but a criminal indeed. M: One's outward appearance and one's real identity is completely different. Once the mask is removed, the truth shows its face. R: And I thought that you were just an otaku... A: Even someone like me has things I want to do and dreams...One day, I want to go to Akihabara, the sanctuary of anime ! Neons illuminating the high buildings, and posters of my favorite anime characters plastered everywhere...the sanctuary I'm yearning for ! A market so wide and deep that even if the geeks from all over the world were to assemblate, they wouldn't be able to buy everything ! When I was administrating that site, I felt that I was able to touch a little that world... But in truth, I was just drowning in the deep sea of the net... R: Dreams, huh. Up till now, I never even thought about that. H: Are you serious ?! Didn't you want to become a football player ? M: What about those titanic muscles...and that robust body...? R: Those were obtained after training regularly. But that was not because I wanted to become a football player. H: Then, why ? R: It's because I wanted to be acclaimed as an excellent sportsman and obtain a scholarship. J: Ha, what's with that. Such a petty reason ! R: Well, I was brought up by my mother only. It's already tough to let me go to school. I was born in a country beyond the sea. When I was young, my mother and father separated, and me and my mother moved here. After that, there were only hardships. It was tough to only feed ourselves in a foreign land. I want to provide for my mother and let her rest, that's what I always thought. J: H-huh ! After calling me a mother complex, you're not one to say ! R: Yeah, you're right. If I did my best in the football team, it was to make my mother happy. I trained myself everyday, in order to obtain this armor-like body, and even became the captain. And even for my caste, I became the president of the clubs, and volunteered for cleaning garbage, I gained popularity with the students and took special attention of the teacher's moods. I did all I could. And I finally became the jock. A: So you suffered a lot too... H: And why someone like you ended up in detention ? R: On the last physics exams, I had some difficulties... H: So you didn't pass ? R: Y-yeah...that's right. But, no, what I want to say is that...I scored 0 points. J: 0 points ?! For real ?! You must be lying, even I scored 17 points ! R: To tell you the truth...I'm really hopeless with studying. No matter how much I try, I never do well, and up until now, I've managed to barely pass. And physics is my worst enemy. I don't understand a single thing. Like you all said, maybe even my brain has become only muscles. A: But even so, 0 points...? R: That day, during the exam...I lost sight of myself. Until that moment, I always thought that I wanted to let my mother rest, and she has big expectations. In order to meet those expectations, I became the jock, the captain of the football team, the president of all the clubs, and I had to always be strong and right. And when I thought "do I have any dreams of my own ?" "do I have something I really want to do ?", my mind went completely blank, and without realizing, the exam was already over. I couldn't write anything other than my name. J: Well...that explains the score. R: But, even without that happening, it would still have been hard to score more than 10. Armin, before, I said that you were miserable, but, like Jean said, it was me, who has no dreams of his own, that was miserable. A: N-no...that's not true, you're doing your best aren't you ? H: After all, you were just a king in name. That's so stupid. J: Hey ! You don't have to say it like that ! H: It's already great that his mother has expectations of him. Unlike him, no one cares about me, and that includes my own parents. Laughable, isn't it ? R: Hey, Historia, you're a rich lady, there's no way what you say is true ! H: Here's the problem. Just because I’m crazy rich and the cutest, not only in this school but in the entire state, everyone's spoiling me. But no one cares about the real me. J: Huh, that's some luxury ! H: And what do you think you know, Jean ? What do you know, you, who has a mother kind and loving enough to bring your lunch to school just because you forgot it ? I only picked up some fruits that were left on the table. My parents never cared about my lunch. And we never eat together, the last time we ate dinner together was when I was five. They leave my care to the butler, and only see me as a tool for the succession of the family. R: But they're your parents...there's no way they think like that ! H: No, I'm only a tool, and a doll. I've been raised as a rich lady, with disinterested parents, and then I'll marry with a dull man who only has reputation, then give birth to a child and success this house. My parents, teachers and the people surrounding me at school, they're all stupid ! I'm fed up ! School caste ? Queen bee ?! What does that even mean ! A: I understand the situation...but you must have things you want to do, right ? If so- H: Are you really in a position to say that, Armin ? A: Huh ? What do you mean ? H: I also like japanese anime ! I can't help it ! Shugo Chara and Sugar Sugar Rune, they're all the best ! And I'm so envious of your bento box of Maji Moji Rurumo ! I want to go to Akihabara and Ikebukuro and buy all the goods I want ! Armin, you said it, right ? That even if geeks from all over the world couldn't buy everything. But that's not true ! If it's me, I can do it ! With the assets of the Reiss family, I can buy it all ! But I can't ! That's all because I have to be the queen everywhere I go ! I can't like anime ! A: Historia... H: I ended up in detention because I tried to steal an anime magazine, and I got caught. Of course, I had the money. I could have even bought 100 copies of it. But I couldn't let anyone see me buying it. So, I had no other choice but to steal it. J: Being the queen is quite burdening, huh... H: One day, I want my parents to look at the real me. I just want to have fun with real friends and talk about anime. Maybe it's a small thing, but I think that's my dream. I doubt that you all would understand me though. M: That's right, there's no way I would understand. J: Hey, you don't have to say it like that ! M: But, I am aware of the fact that I cannot understand you. You and I are completely different, and we don't live with the same worries. However, it doesn't change the fact that we are together in this darkness. H: Mikasa...how did you end up in detention ? M: After school in an empty classroom, I tried to perform a ritual to summon the goat-faced devil, Baphomet, who has the power to destroy this world and engulf it in flames. And I got caught by the History teacher. J: Ha ! Are you serious ? You should know when to stop with that persona of yours. M: I don't want to hear that from you. J: Well, my apologies ! But that's the truth, isn't it ? It's just a persona. H: Why are you a goth, Mikasa ? Do you really like gothic things ? Or is there another reason that you ended up in this caste ? M: It is...to have perfect control of myself. J: Huh ? What do you mean ? M: Before, I was a normal student. I didn't belong neither to light, neither to darkness, just a normal person. I had a friend, and lived nonchalantly. I had no complaints towards that kind of life. But one day, my friend went up a caste higher. And after that, that friend began to avoid me. R: They didn't want to mingle with a lower caste, huh... H: Well, that does happen often. M: Yes, it's a common story. But to me, that was an unbearable shock. That's when I realized, that this world is cruel. So, I have to have perfect control over myself in order to keep on fighting... J: And that's how you became a goth ? That escalated quickly ! That's crazy ! M: No, occult and curses are helpful to strengthen one's soul. Thanks to that, I managed to remain myself. Also, since I'm asian and my hair is black, it goes well with black clothes. H: It's true that it suits you. M: Also, goth is a caste that isn't bothered by others as much as other castes. If I keep on being immersed in my own world, no one talks to me. It's not that I'm avoided by others, but I do things so that they avoid me. I can think of it that way. R: So, you chose solitude ? M: I want to become stonger. I have to be strong. And one day, I'll become a strong woman like a fearless dark knight. J: Well...you don't have to be that stubborn, don't you think ? And right now, you're talking with everyone just fine. Who knows, you might make another friend ? M: I don't need that. J: Don't say that ! The six of us, who didn't have anything to do with each other, opened up and all ! R: Hey, wait a minute, Jean. J: What ? You want to be in charge again, is that it ? R: No, did you say the six of us ? A: Eren hasn't said a thing yet... E: Huh, me ? J: Don't "huh, me ?" me ! Take part to the conversation ! E: I did listen to you all. I went to the toilet twice though. J: Always about the toilet...what are you, an old man ?! E: I know right, to say the truth, I'm a little concerned about that... My organs may have some problems. Everyone, how frequently do you go to the toilet ? How about you, Historia ? H: Me ?? J: What's with you, Eren ?! No one wants to talk about that ! A: H-hey, Eren...why did you end up in detention ? E: I'm not sure, but I think it's because I skipped the History exam. R: So you skipped, huh. Are you bad with History ? Or, do you have any worries that you can't say to people ? E: Not really, I just forgot about it. When Mr. Smith talked to me about it, that's when I remembered. H: So, is that not because of worries, but because you couldn't think of anything else other than your dreams ? E: Not at all. I really just forgot about it. I don't have any dreams. M: It's complete nought, and thoroughly normal. E: Is that bad to be normal ? I don't really love or hate this world, and I don't have particular worries or dreams. I really don't care about school castes either. Even so, I'm living normally everyday. R: Well, that's true. H: Everyone's worries are different after all... M: Everything comes in all colors. So many men, so many minds. A: Why is it that even though everyone carries its own worries, we all become the same adults...? M: That's because everyone loses to something, and ends up giving up. H: We become arrogant and showy adults, full of deception, huh... A: Hey, in truth, there was something I was thinking about. I know it's weird to ask that, but, when we meet again in school on Monday, what should we do ? J: Huh ? R: What do you mean ? A: We are...friends, right ? H: Do you mean to ask if we should keep up our relationship, where we can talk freely to each other just like now ? A: Yeah. H: Do you really want me to answer ? A: I want to hear it. H: I'll ignore you. A: Is that so... M: Do you mean only Armin, or everyone here ? H: Everyone. I'll pretend that I never met you all. Well, I don't mind Reiner though. R: That's some attitude here. But you like anime, right ? You could talk about it all you want with Armin ! H: Ha, there's no way I could. And that's the same for you, Reiner. When you're with people from the football club, what would you do if Armin, wearing an anime t-shirt and carrying a bento box of Maji Moji Rurumo, went to you and spoke to you ? R: Well, that's... H: Even though you could exchange a few words with him, you would go back to saying bad things about him when he's gone, right ? "What's with that otaku, even though he's a geek, he has the gall to talk to me !" for example. R: I'll never do that, and I don't even sound like that ! H: Then what about that, "Hey, Armin. Everyone, let me introduce my new friend.", would you introduce him to your friends like that ?! They'll just end up mocking you. And without a fault, you'll lose your position as a jock ! Are you fine with that ? Even though you did so much to gain that title- R: Stop that, Historia ! J: Cut that crap... H: You two are liars and hypocrites ! Jean, could you introduce Armin to your delinquent friends ? Could you cosplay as a character from Twilight with Mikasa and go to a party ? J: Shut up ! H: You can't, right ?! There's no way you could ! I'm just being honest. I can't be on good terms with you all ! And why ? Because our castes are different ! A: Then...it's better to be a geek like me. Even if people call me weird, I don't have to care about my surroundings and avoid my friends... M: Armin's right. A: And you, Mikasa ? Would you avoid me if I were to talk to you ? M: No. A: Even if you're with other friends ? M: I don't have any other friends. Even if I had, they wouldn't hate you. J: Mikasa... A: Let me say that, I won't ever avoid anyone here ! That would be too mean. H: Say what you want. I'm different than you, because I'm the queen...the most popular girl in school ! I can't walk alongside with you ! J: I'm astonished...how conceited can you be ? H: I'm not conceited ! It's the truth ! It's because it's the truth that it hurts ! Do you know anything about my pressure ?! The pressure of having to be a good girl at home and at school ! I have to smile all the time to be loved by everyone ! I have to make fun of the anime that I like the most ! I'm fed up with all that ! R: Historia, that's enough ! H: No, it's not ! Nothing's fine ! There's no way it is... E: Hey, sorry to interrupt, but... H: What ? J: What, Eren ? A: Does something bother you ? Feel free to say it. M: You can open up about everything. E: Can I go to the toilet ? J: You...cut it out ! H: How about you try read the room ?? Why do you even ask us permission ! E: If I go on my own, Jean's gonna complaint about it...that's really bothersome. M: Even though he's normal, he's the weirdest... E: Really ? I think it's pretty normal. I just go to the toilet more often that everyone. H: Hah...that's so stupid. J: We were the ones at fault for believing you would say something serious. A: How about you just write your essay in the toilet ? E: Huh ? I don't want to. R: Come to think of it, I completely forgot about the essay. H: We should finish it first. M: Once again, we are back to the cruel reality. J: Let's just do it. A: Yeah. R: Okay everyone, let's finish it quickly and go home. J: Don't you try to be in charge of everything again ! E: Then, I'm going to the toilet. *bell ringing* E: It's finally over. J: I'm so tired. R: We finished just in time. M: We are finally freed from that cage. H: After all it was not impossible huh. Well, as expected of us. A: You all made me write in your place though... L: What, so you're finally going home ? J: Yeah ! R: Mr Levi, thanks for your work. L: Well, that is my work after all. Leaving that aside, what happened ? Your expressions changed since I last saw you. H: Is that so ? I was just having detention, with those five weirdos. M: That's what I want to say. A: Historia was the most surprising, right ? H: Huh ? Did you say something ? A: No, nothing ! L: Whatever. But if you've finished, then hurry and go home. You're going to dirty the floor. R: Mr Levi's right. Let's go home quickly, drink proteins and do some training. A: My World-kun's battery is running low. J: What about you, Mikasa ? Do you have someone to pick you up ? If not, then I don't mind walking you home... M: Huh ? H: Oh my, a bad boy being kind to a goth, what a sight ! J: Shut up ! That doesn't matter ! Right, Eren ? E: What ? J: The castes ! E: That kind of thing doesn't matter. J: Haha ! See ! *everyone laughing*

That is how the six who belonged to different castes, while carrying their own worries and dreams, went home, with the same bright mood. Meanwhile, the History teacher Erwin was in the library, checking their essays.

Er: Hm. "Mr. Smith, thinking about what we all did, it was a given that we ended up in detention. However, the theme "Who I am" was so stupid that it made us want to throw up. This school fixed upon us statuses like the "bad boy", "queen bee", "jock", "geek", "goth" and...the "normal person". Nevertheless, we will keep on moving forward. Without caring about other's expectations, we will do as our hearts please, and this world, this school caste...You will probably say that it isn't the right path, but still, it will surely connect to a future. To a future decided by none other than us."...they're really idiots to the end.

Erwin left with a mysterious laugh. The evening sun illuminated the empty library through the window, and their essay was left there, dyed in gold, like the sun was shining upon their hopes.

[knight-queen]

Black Wolves Saga Bloody Nightmare (Common Plot Part 1)

This game covers 200+ memories and but I were to translate them individually, it will take me forever which no way I want lmao. So I decided to make the whole game into parts, specially the common plot. Each parts hopefully ends with a red-splash thing. I know it may sound inconvenient  but I found it as a best option. The main thing I am worried is the selection things because they are so long and I hope God will help me to arrange the whole story smoothly <3

The sky is weeping. Weeping for grieving over the sorrowful event that is going to happen right away.

Large droplets of rain hit the ground. Some approaching sounds of footsteps mixed with such groaning rain could be heard from far away. Gradually, gradually.

The village which is more likely has sank inside the darkness has yet to notice the impending crisis.

???: ーー...It’s raining...brother.

???: ーー...Hmph. What is wrong, Rath? You are scared?

Rath: No, it’s not….It’s not like that...Brother, it’s raining awfully too much.

???: ーー...Raining? You are wrong, these are tears.

Rath: Tears? …...What do you mean?

???: God of the Weblin is crying. He is feeling sorrow for these humans after all.

Rath: Human...human...HUMAN...I hate them.

???: If so then kill them. Paint your heart with those emotions. Wolves do not need any heart inside them.

Looks like they appeared out of nowhere. Unscared of this rain, two human-looking persons were standing in the middle of the village.

One of them is tall figued. Another one is a young man still in the mid-way of becoming an adult.

Those are the eyes of fellows, ash colored beasts, the eyes which were shining like sparkles, like starving for flames and blood.

???: ーMove forward.

He commanded splitting a single word.

*Wolves howling sounds*

*Village was set to fire*

Female Resident 1: Heeeeehhh…!

Howling wolves are screaming as if they are proceeding by tearing through the rain.

As the people are uproaring in panic, the man’s smile inside the rain deepens.

A beautiful smile that one cannot overlook if the situation would allow you.

???: Kukukuh...Devour it all. These human’s blood, flesh andーーeverything.

Female Resident 1: KYAAAAAAAAAAA!! Wolves!? Why, what are they here....!!

Male Resident 1: Just run…!! Hurry and take our kids to….gh, kyaaa!!

???: ーIt’s pointless.

The howl of wolves that vibrates the dark night. Plus their accumulated screams rise one by one, and the echo disappears in an instant.

The sound that could be heard next was the pulling sound of something heavy. Pulling human bodies one after another.

*BG turns to an wolf eating flesh*

The next sound that could be heard was the chewing sounds of the wolves mixed with rain-water. Those wolves were slicing humans as if they were nothing more than baits.

Female resident 1: Kyaaaaayaaaaaaaaaa!! Stopp….ughuh….!!

*Blood splash*

An awkward chewing sound was resounded from all around by getting mixed with raining sound.

At the same time, the scent of blood which was not getting erased even with incessant rain spread around. It stirs up the instincts of the wolves as well.

???: Fufh...it has a very beautiful timbre. Human’s shierkings are the best comfort. I hope you will not mind letting me hear more. 

From the shadows of the wolves’ flock, someone stretched their hand by appealing for help.

Strengthless, yet that person was shivering and struggling like has gotten twitched.

???: Just die, shameless.

*Blood splash*

That person has stopped moving right away.

From human, to object. To alive, to dead. From a mass of protein, to a piece of flesh. 

All left now is the despicable sound of water that wolves are using to satisfy their hungry stomach, but that could be heard inside of darkness.

???: More, fill your stomach more. Eat them all….

The male’s heart gets filled with screams and frustration. Meanwhile, a villager seemed to run away in sight of that man.

That person is a villager. His destination will probably be the stable. His intention for now is to ask his neighbouring villagers to help him out by riding on a fast horse.

Once he manages to get on the horse, then wolves or something like that will be unable to interfere with him.

???: ...Guillan.

He muttered by calling that name.

Guillan: Hiyaaaaaa~! What’s up, Arles? Isn’t it just a waste of time to kill that ugly jackass?

Arles: ーIt is an order.

Guillan: Tch, how boorish. ...Well then I am gonna kill ‘em in boldly, ‘kay? Just watch me will yaaa’ー?

Along with sliced-through-wind sound, silver light breaks through the dark night. Then he immediately scratched off the man’s head who was trying to reach the horse-stable.

Resident 1: Guggh…!!

*blood splash*

Slashed fresh blood. But that immediately got mixed and soaked with rain and soil respectively.

*Shoots*

Guillan: I hit itー! Wooooooh! Oi, they’re seriously tiny sized fish. Guess it’s worth it to get more of ‘em still alive?

The headless villager trumple down to the ground with a thud. Right there was a flock of wolves. Soon enough, they could be seen devouring by chewing him. 

They slurp down the fresh blood as they apart the flesh. Gushed and overflowed red with rain droplets have become one and they both are ending up being mud. 

Guillan: Ahh, that guy is fukin’ ugly. Me the great don’t wanna see him, so gonna mess him up.

*Shoots*

Guillan: Hiyaaa! Cool, cool. Kindly just pass away, ugly humans. 

*Another shoot*

Guillan: Hiyahahahah! Now it becomes easier to eat, yah? Eat ‘em more, ‘cuz they are merely chunks of “meat” anyways, kay?

*Blood splash*

Guillan: Ooh, It’s damn boring for some reason. It’d be better if they would fight back more. Just hunting isn’t fun though?

Arles: ーShut up. It is my order.

Guillan: Oh goodness, I smash ‘em all just as you wished right? You knoooow, wolves sob if you don’t compliment them.

Arles: ...Alright. 

*Arles pats Guillan*

Guillan: Kukukuh...I like that side of yours. Oi, shall I butcher ‘em more?

*gets ready the spin-blade*

The young man called Guillan, at his fingertips, there is the dangerous weapon that reaped out the life of the villager is rotating making a humming sound.

It is a weapon called chakram, a weird weapon where one has to bag fingers into it and hurl at the distant target by being very concentrative. 

Every single part of it’s external is made out of blade, the users will get hurt if they make an error in holding that.

The perfect owner of that weapon, that young man, was really suited to using that.

*Shoots + Blood flash*

Guillan: Arlesーwhat ‘bout attacking a bigger place? As you can see, It’s been a while since this miny village’s gone hollow.

They aren’t even responding a thing. Darning borin’. They are fukin villagers after all. Seriously trash yeah?

More, more and more, let’s do somethin’ more entertainingー?

*Shoots again*

Guillan: Hiyaaa, hiyaaaaaa, hiyaaaaaaaaahーhhh!!! Blooood, blooood, blood-blood-blood-blood, gotta chop off everything wooo!

Although he seems to have lost his mind, at the same time, the Charkram shoot off from his fingertips and hunts the prey by spinning through the rain and wind. 

*Blood splash + stab sound*

Female Resident 1: KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAー!!

His attitude is potent, and his talent is that not only was he able to master a very difficult weapon, he mastered hunting a target very comfortably and easily. That skill of his is very well-known.

Arles: ...Fufh, you are right. We can begin to prey upon a larger city onward. We must make those humans...suffer, more suffer.

Kill more...we must kill them more. We must erase them entirely.

Guillan: Hiyahah! Sounds great...I can’t wait…

Among the wolves as they run, hunt and howl in the rain, those two’s conversations are like talkings between a child and his corresponding guardian.

Right after, Arles starts gazing on the other side.

Arles: ...What is Rath doing?

Guillan: Rath? Oh...you mean that rookie huh. Wasn’t he just hunting the foolish who were simply trynna escape over there. 

He doesn’t seem to like murder thing that much. Don’t really think he is your younger bro.

Arles: ...Rath is still immature. If he abandons his emotions, he should be able to kill humans. 

Guillan: Abandon emotions? He’d feel more at ease if he’d just do fun stuff and stop thinking about troublesome shits.

*Spins his Chakram*

Guillan: Hiyyaaah! ‘Kay then, I’m gonna rampage a lil’ more.

Arles: Do not let even a single one be alive. Kill everyone except wolves, seize the souls of everyone. Everyone.

Guillan: I’m down for itー! Bossー!

The scent of blood, as well as the screams and everything which is happening gets erased in the rain, doesn’t even reach anyone. 

Now this small village has turned into a hunting ground for wolves.

Arles: ...Rath.

Rath: ……

After shifting places with guillan, the young man has shown up as if he gets out from the dark.

Arles: What were you doing?

Rath: ...Nothing particular. I was killing them. Just as you told me.

Arles: Do not worry, Rath. Set on fire after the rain stops.

Rath: ...Yeah. I know, brother.

Arles: We are doing this in order to let it know what happened. We want the foolish subjects of Weblin to realize the existence of us, the wolves.

Take everything away, their houses, lands, and lives so that they cannot even think about coming to these places again.

Rath: ...Big brother, I know.

Arles: If you know then respond. The leader of this flock is me.

Rath: ...Yeah.

Arles: Rath, do not think about the points that much. Listen to your own insects inside you. Sound yourself more like “kill humans!”

Rath: ...I know, brother. I know!!

Arles: Say it, you will kill them.

Rath: I will kill. I will...kill humans.

Arles: Say it once more. It is an order.

Rath: ...Kill, kill, kill...kill. I will kill...kill...kill. I will kill, kill...kill, kill, kill, kill them.

I must kill them.

Arles: Rath, do not hesitate. You are not allowed to forget what they did to us. 

Rath: Kill, kill, kill, kill. Yeah...I will kill them.

Arles: Alright...time to go. Fire up.

A small nod, then the young man disappeared out of sight just like he faded away in the dark. 

Arles: ...Kukukuh.

The male chuckles as he is glaring at this hellish disaster.

Arles: Other races etc, just devour all of them. Wreck them out and get rid of everything.

Look, the God of Weblin. This is the beginning of the wolves’ revenge. If you say our race is cursed, then I dare you to curse more.

Kukukuh, hahahah, HAAHAAHHAHAHAH!

As the bloody-rain continues, the man who stood in the middle of this tragic place was the king of the wolves.

Weblin Kingdom

It is a small kingdom which is lying at a corner of the continent thronged with great powers.

Garibaldi family of the Cat species rules it. Surrounded by abundant and strict atmosphere, Weblin is undoubtedly standing as an solitary island on the continent.

While wearing armor called “Nature which prevents aggression”, this kingdom was flourishing as an independent civilization on the continent.

The one that holds domination power is the species called ‘Cats’.

In this world the species that exist are ー1) ’Cats’

2) Human

3) Wolves

4) And the rare species are ‘Rat’

5) Lion

6) Dog

7) Rabbit

When wolves and humans hand over the top of the Weblin to the Cats, the races living there including the rare ones were being dominated. 

Hundred of years passed after its founding, although there were clan’s barriers in it, Weblin was still a harmonious and splendid country which existed in a beautiful environment.

Exactly like this, until ten years ago. 

As the history progressed, Cats and other races of Weblin were producing a few number of frictions. 

Exploiting takes place right one after another. The relationship between the tribes finally began to be disputed. 

There was a rebellion that occurred ten years ago.

A wolf guard-knight who used to work for the Weblin kingdom had turned the sword towards one of the members of the royal family.

Cats who ruled Weblin, and the one who ruled on their top of that was the royal family Garibaldi.  Treasoning that family was a very heavy sin.

That guard-knight’s residence was disrupted and so after he was driven out from the country. However一the uproar still was not all over.

That uproar was not only between Wolves and Cats but involved in every other race.

一And thereupon, a big plague had assaulted the country.

A brutal death-disease called “Zodiva” 一 so called this disease by human and it was in trend. 

This may dye the sufferer’s skin into black color and may also end up completely spoiling the brain-tissues. And this unknown caused plague will eventually lead the affected individual into madness.

Wherein a rumour takes place which is “Wolves are the reasons behind the origin of this plague.” This rumour got spread across many regions in no time. 

The people of the villages and towns that wolves attacked were feared, that thoroughly-outbroken disease was the wolves’ curse.

And eventually that ‘Zodiva’ name becomes identified as ‘Madness-disease by Wolves.’

In order to sweep away the fear of such people, the Weblin Kingdom Garibaldi VI had announced a certain rule.

一 “Genociding Wolves Law”

“Behead the wolves who are the origin of the nation-wrecking disease.”

Balanced relationships between the clans that had been preserved for 100 years have decisively collapsed after coming this far.

The decree to protect yourself from the wolf species was warranted as a reason to hunt the wolf species behind anyone’s notices.

In the fear of Zodiva, the other clans started wildly joining in wolves-hunting and had decided to exterminate them. 

ーAnd ten years have passed since then.

Due to the dramatic decrease of wolves, the impact of Zodiva has also descended.

However, the wolves killing law that Garibaldi VI had published still continued to function without undo. 

The wolves species began to decrease so much as if it was an endangered species. 

By changing the wolves’ position to be preyed on, the cats became more and more absolute strength owners.

Weblin, unlike the outer places where the plague was not spreaded, is now belonging to cats…

ーIt was an absolute monarchy.

Place: Weblin Kingdom Castle一 Corridor

Auger: …?

Hm, I just heard a voice. As I was walking leisurely in the hallway, I stopped and brought up my ear to listen to something interesting or not.

(Hmmm? What kind of conversation would they possibly have in such a place like this.)

Waiting Maid 1: Hey tell me, did you two heard a rumour about a witch?

Waiting Maid 2: A witch?

Waiting Maid 3: Yeah, rumour about the witch of Charmessen (Beautiful Forest)? 

Waiting Maid 1: Oh yeah exactly. You know, it’s said that there’s a witch in the Charmessen forest.

Waiting Maid 2: Yes, I have heard about it a little. It was about like the witch from the Charmessen forest is cursing the Weblin by wielding a disaster, right? 

Waiting Maid 3: Exactly, as you see the northward village has been raided up and destroyed by the wolves recently.

Waiting Maid 2: Very miserable indeed… After eating and killing the people regardless of their gender and age, they even set the places on fire.

Waiting Maid 1: Yeah, I talked to a member of knighthood who was dispatched later on…

It was not cool to ask him but, he turned pale after saying it wasn’t something that humans could do.

Waiting Maid 3: Even a brave knight has averted his eyes, it means it was a terrible spectacle indeed…

Waiting Maid 1: Same goes for the impact on the wolves, I heard the witch is manipulating the wolves to attack everyone.

Waiting Maid 2: Eeh? But what the witch would possibly achieve by making the wolves attack down. 

Waiting Maid 3: You know, it’s something that I have heard though...because the witch wants to have an eternal life, she will need so many sacrificial victims. 

Waiting Maid 1: Then she is making the wolves hunt the villages or towns to get so many sacrificed people...I am scared now.

Waiting Maid 2: Talking about being scared...recently the Garibaldi Majesty IV keeps getting in weak condition. I am scared of what if something bad happens.

Waiting Maid 1: You’re right. Majesty’s condition just keeps getting frailed lately…

Waiting Maid 3: Raids by wolves, Zodiva, Witch and so many threatening stuff are going on. So I would like the Majesty to hang on there…

Waiting Maid 2: Rather, isn’t it okay to hand over the royal to His Highness Mejojo really quick?

Waiting Maid 1: Hush…! How can you handle it if it goes to others’ ears…!?

Waiting Maid 3: As she said, no matter how number one royal successor Lord Mejojo is, don’t say so confirmly that he is going to be the next heir. 

Expecting Garibaldi VI is going to pass out is something considered as the crime of treason you know?

Waiting Maid 2: ...R- right...kh. I am so sorry for being careless.

The silence that stares around for a while continues. The three of them are more likely to sweat over what they will do if somebody would hear their conversations.

Auger: (Seriously, you ought to be careful since you don’t know if somebody had a chance to hear you or not.)

That’s right. For example, just like this, there was a possibility that the twin brother of the next royal successor prince Mejojo Von Garibaldi has been taking a peek in your conversations. 

(Everyone likes gossiping about rumours afterall~ I also don’t hate it though)

I like it even more if it comes out handy for me.

Waiting Maid 1: That being said...It just pops up in my mind. The disagreements between the Garibaldi Majesty VI and his twin princess came out pretty much a fact.

Waiting Maid 2: Eh? No kidding?

Waiting Maid 3: Oh, I heard about that too. Let me go back umm...it was about Lady Eleanora and Rayrie, yeah?

Waiting Maid 2: Lady Eleanora and Rayrie…? Who are you talking about? Was there anybody with those names?

Waiting Maid 1: Ohh, you have moved here recently. Both Lady Eleanora and Rayrie are Majesty Garibaldi VI’s wives.

Waiting Maid 2: Oh yes, that’s why...I felt like I heard those names before.

But surely both of them had passed away right?

Waiting Maid 1: ...Yeah. It’s been many years since Lady Eleanora and Rayrie had passed away.

Waiting Maid 2: I see. Guess no matter how newcomer I am or other maidens, you are gonna know those names today or tomorrow.

If that is the case then...it means Majesty Garibaldi VI is very sorry.

Waiting Maid 1: Eh? Why’s that?

Waiting Maid 2: Because both of his wives have passed out pretty early, no?

Waiting Maid 1: ………

Waiting Maid 3: ………

Waiting Maid 2: Eh? What’s wrong with the two of you? Did I just...say something weird?

Waiting Maid 3: ...You say something weird or not, Err well...looks like you still don’t know yet, so I shall inform you about that.

Waiting Maid 2: E- eh?

Waiting Maid 1: Talking about Lady Eleanora and Reyrie are prohibited in the interior of the castle.  Even if you split them accidentally, you are gonna be dismissed.

Waiting Maid 2: Di- dismissed…?

Waiting Maid 3: Told you right? Lady Eleanora and Reyrie contents are the main reason for the bad patches between His Majesty and his princes.

Waiting Maid 2: Eeh? What does that mean?

Waiting Maid 1: Well you see…

Auger: (Looks like the time has arrived)

*Footsteps*

Waiting Maid 1: …!

Waiting Maid 2: …!

Waiting Maid 3: …!!

I purposely straightened my neck up and showed up from the place that I have silently been hiding.

The maidens who were blooming like a flower while ridiculously chattering a minute ago, are instantly turning into pale blue.

That’s not surprising either. Because the rumoured person that was being chased by these ladies’ curious minds has presented his appearance.

Auger: Hey there, what three of you were talking about? Would you please let me join too? I love those kinds of conversations.

With an intentional carefree and light voice, I asked if it would be okay to accompany them.

Obvious enough, they turn around their heads side to side with immense vigor. 

Waiting Maid 1: W- we are terribly sorry, your highness Auger...we are taking our leaves…!

Waiting Maid 2: Kindly excuse our silliness…!

Auger: Eeeh, aren’t you going a bit over? I had already heard every single word of what you just talked about. That being said, you also mentioned something like ‘you will get dismissed’, no?

Waiting Maid 1: N- not at all…! No way…! If I had misunderstood something...kh, I- I am begging your forgiveness…

Auger: Nope, now way I will pardon you right? You are gonna die here.

Waiting Maid 1: Hhhee…!!

*that maiden falls down*

Auger: So, what are you upto? Oh right, you also intended to say that yeaaa.

Waiting Maid 2: W- we are begging...your pardon...gh!

Auger: Oh jeez, do not let out that loud voice. It’s earsore. 

...I am a royal master musician. My ears are very sharp. And you can tell it clearly by looking at those ears, no? Or perhaps you humans can’t possibly get what I meant.

Look carefully, my ears are really great. I may end up hearing every single thing.

Waiting Maid 2: ...R- right.

Auger: That- is- why, if you talk about such things for a second time...I will kill you. 

Waiting Maid 3: ...hhhgh…!!

Auger: Your response, lil’ human girls?

Waiting Maid 3: A- alright!! Your highness Auger!!

Waiting Maid 2: W- we beg our excuse…!

While the three parties fairly raised their voices, the ladies got dismissed from that place in no time.

Auger: Looks like there're so many rumours spreading out...Fufu, rumours are pretty fun I guess…?

I slothly resumed to start wandering while giggling.

Although it has declined, the effect of Zodiva still has not reached zero.

The raids on the towns-villages by the wolves.

The same time when those situations got paired, other threatening rumours also got spread in a blink of an eye.

Auger: (Even the ‘father is passing out’ being a rumour...mhm, pretty interesting indeed)

I was able to hear something very amusing while loitering around looking for cool news.

I’m also telling this great news to my big brother.

I have to set it up since brother has a serious gaze. He may also not be gonna tease about it like me.

Let’s make it more interesting if that’s what the case is, okey?

[cloudy-leonhart]

Paubaya.

[Author Note: I watched the Paubaya music video, I suffered bad, so you guys are going down with me :)) Jean stans, sorry in advance <3]

Summary: you and Jean had a happy relationship, so what went so wrong? You both never knew until you both got the closure you need at the very same church you left Jean standing at the altar. (It’s kinda a songfic? The original song was in filipino so i translated it.)

Female Reader.

Recommended Song: Paubaya by Moira Dela Torre.

Theme: Angst, Breakup, Modern AU.

Pairings: Jean x Reader.

TW: breaking up, swearing, crying. (Can’t rlly tell if this is cheating because the song is rlly just about ghosting someone and forgiving, I’ll put it in anyway.) cheating.

Jean had no idea why he kept coming back to the same church. He had no reason to, and here he was sitting in once of the polished benches. Churches were supposed to give you hope, it was where people gave prayers of all kinds. He’d never hate a building so much.

Where did everything started to change, when was I not enough anymore?

It was nearing midnight, the church will soon close and Jean’s finding it so hard to stand, he was soon the only one left inside the marble building. It was warm due to the candles that lit the altar in the front, he could see the ghost of you standing up front with him, a reminiscent feeling washed over him, god you looked so beautiful that time. 

Why didn’t you tell me from the start, I’m the one you needed but not the one you love?

He couldn’t help but shed a tear, the white lace caressed your skin so beautifully, he was so awestruck on how your hair fell perfectly on your face. He was so whipped, and he wasn’t afraid to show it, he could remember how he reached his hand out, connecting with yours as your father passed you onto Jean’s hand. He pulled you in front of the altar, holding your hand tightly.

If only he knew how much you didn’t want to do this. 

Where did my love lack, I gave everything just to make you smile.

He had so many things he dreamed of doing with you, it was a shame it would never happen, he gave it up, so many things he gave up just to keep you in his arms, but when did you start falling out of love? Jean watched as the ghosts of your supposed happiest day faded from him eyes, leaving him alone in that church.

Why didn’t I see you don’t want us anymore, I’m the one you’re with, but you’re looking for him.

He missed you so much, a year went by so fast, a second you were stargazing with him, and the next, he’s alone, reminiscing on something long gone. Jean doesn’t even know where you are anymore, god knows if you’re having the most fun in your life, he’s hoping you are though.

And if you’re happy with his company, I won’t insist no more.

Jean wonders if you were to go through with your wedding, would you be happy? He looked at his watch, 11:03 pm, it read. A sigh left his mouth as a hand ran through his ash grey-brunette hair. He remembers all the things you did in your relationship, a smile unconsciously planting itself into his lips.

All I wish for him is to never make you cry, and to take care of you.

He could remember when you and him went on a trip to have a picnic, your were smiling the biggest that day, he could still remember how the sun showered you both in warm gold, Jean felt like he remembered that one moment like it was yesterday. His hands ran up his arms, trying to replicate the same warmth you gave him when you jumped into his arms that day.

Where did the faithfulness stopped, every time you say you loved me?

Where did it all go so wrong, why couldn’t Jean hear you didn’t want to do this anymore? God, why were you so silent? He knew could never blame you, even if he tried hard to, you weren’t at fault, at all. Everyone breaks out of phases, relationships all the time, but damn it, it fucking hurts.

It wasn’t your fault, neither of you. Jean never blamed you, he hopes you don’t blame him either. Maybe he lacked in something. He doesn’t know what, it was just something. Maybe you knew?

Why didn’t you admit that there’s somebody else? I’m the one you embraced, but you’re thinking of him.

Jean laughed at his state, he felt dumb thinking of something that happened a year ago. He felt his eyes tear up as his laughter died down, why is it still painful? it hurts so bad, he needs to let go, god it’s hurting him so bad. Jean laughed through his tears as he tried his best to wipe them away from his vision.

He moped no longer and stood up from his spot, walking towards the altar one more time.

Why didn’t I think, that there’s a finale?

He could hear footsteps coming up to the front of the church, he turned around to walk away, when he saw you, the girl he’s been hurting over, bad. Jean thought it was just a figment of his imagination until you stood in front of him, his nose picked up your familiar scent. He knew you were standing in front of him, the real you.

“Hi..Jean..” You looked up at him, a similar pain in your eyes, matching his.

Jean couldn’t speak, he felt he was gonna sob if he even spoke a word. You took it as a sign to continue what you wanted to say. “I..I’m sorry.” 

“God, I’m so sorry..Jean.” Jean’s eyes widened slightly. You could feel your eyes sting with tears, as your throat started to close, a familiar feeling. You recognized it as you starting to breakdown. 

“I, am so sorry,” your voice starts to quiver, “I got tired. I’m sorry I had to disappear.” Jean turned his gaze to the side, feeling himself start to tear up. “I tried, jean. I really did.” your gaze was long on the floor. “I gave you everything, I truly did, I was just emptied.” 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Jean felt himself sigh, his sigh was shaky, and he felt himself take a big gulp, “I’m sorry.” He found his voice to say something. You stood before him, your gaze was on the floor, feeling too shameful to look at the eyes of the one you used to be in love with.

He continued either way, “I’m sorry..that I wasn’t there when you needed me.” Jean forced himself to muster the courage to say what he needed to say, he needed to, for both of you. “I’m sorry if I didn’t protect you.”

“fuck, I didn’t even get to protect you.” Jean’s voice started to pitch, he felt a tear run down his cheek. “I got scared.” You looked up at him, “I was so scared.”Jean confessed his fear of not being good enough for you and the relationship. “But, I wanted to be there, Reader, I really did. I wanted to be there when you were hurting so badly.” Jean ran a hand down his face to rid of the itch from the cold wind hitting his wet cheeks.

He could start to hear your sniffles and your attempt to try your best not to sob right then and there. “But, I wasn’t.” Jean laughed through his shaky voice. “Maybe because, I was slowly realizing that..we weren’t meant to be with each other.”

You tried to smile through your pain, an attempt of a smile was on your face as you quivered, “We tried, right?” Jean looked at your face, tracing over every small feature. “We gave it out best fight, right?” You asked. Hopeful, that he too believed you both did your best, trying hard to keep the relationship together between you. 

Jean gave a painful smile back, nodding. “Yeah, we tried.” You sniffled, wiping your tears, fiddling with your hands. “I uhm..wanted to thank you for the memories you made with me,” Jean confessed, a pained smile still on his face. “Even if we couldn’t do what we always dreamed of doing.” 

“I’m happy with the life you shared with me.” You wiped your tears away, listening entirely to Jean and him only. Not the buzzing silence, not the wind outside swaying the trees. Just him.

“I’m..happy that, you’re happy.” You looked at the side, trying to catch a breath, even if it’s hard to do so, with every breath you took taunting you to let out the sob you keep supressing. “I want you to be happy, too.” You confessed, looking at him. He felt relief, maybe because you both needed to talk this out, or maybe finally feeling like you could both let go of the things you kept holding on about each other.

Your eyes closed shut as you whispered out, “Thank you.” Jean reciprocated with a thank you of his own. You hiccuped, a line of thank you’s coming out of your mouth, maybe from the fact that you’ve finally told him and you’re finally getting the closure you needed.

You felt comfortable enough to reach out for his hands, those same hands that held you during the coldest nights. He welcomed you into his hands once again. Your gazes met each other once again, as one hand cupped your cheek and the other cupped both of yours.

“Oh, God.” The overwhelming feeling of nostalgia and hurt started to resurface and slowly start to fade away, as he glanced up. He could feel your smooth skin, his fingertips caressing it ever so gently. “I want you to know, that I forgive you.” He mumbled out, making sure the moment of intimacy were for both you and him only. “I forgive you, too.” You replied, holding on the hands that held your face lovingly.

You felt your head become weak as you cried into his shoulder, relief coming out. You felt so relieve that he forgives you for the pain you’ve caused him, you couldn’t believe that such a wonderful man was once yours.

Jean looked at you as if it was the last time you’ll see each other, and it probably was. He scanned over every single detail, every speck of light in your eyes, he wiped the tears that cascaded down those beautiful eyes of yours.

And for one last time, laid a gentle kiss on your cheek. before he nuzzled himself into your neck, holding you tightly. He pulled back, “I need to go..” You looked at him with pleading eyes and mumbling incoherent pleas. “I need to..” He felt like he was going to break if he stayed a second longer.

“Take care of yourself.”

You nodded and sighed, starting to pull away, Jean planted his lips one more time on your forehead, his beard tickling your face, before he started to pull away from you. You looked at him one last time, also trying your hardest to memorize his face.

I was the first, but he is the last.

With every step Jean took, he felt the guilt and the burden become lighter, he knew both of you needed to let go, and god had given both of you one last time to recieve that closure.

And it can really be seen in your eyes, why he’s the one you chose.

You wiped your tears away, watching as Jean left you alone in the church you both used to hate so much, and for once, you could see the ghost of your past self leaving with him.

I can’t go against your destiny,

both of you had to let go, and with this, you needed to release the burden of still being in pain, both of your guys’ pain and hurt are no longer’s each other burden, you realize that it’s okay to entrust things to fate and destiny.

But, I forgive you.

Jean knew you and him forgave each other, and that finally releases the heavy weight of pain and guilt both of you held, you both feel like you could breath so freely, and even if you both won’t see each other again, at least, you both got to hold each other one last time.

I’m setting you free.

Jean was happy that he no longer has to feel chained up to your guys’ relationship, and you were happy that you no longer have to deal with the guilt of causing Jean pain and leaving him unanswered. Jean’s footsteps faded away softly, as you stood in the church, crying your final feelings out.

I’m letting you go, and entrusting everything to him.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x19: Inherit the Earth

We’re down to the end, and guys, I’m not ready. :(

Then:

THEY’RE IN LOVE

Now:

The world is empty.

Sam and Jack wander the empty streets. Dean pulls up in the Impala (still wearing his jacket with Cas’s bloody handprint. BRB CRYING.) Everyone’s gone. Dean tells the others that it’s Chuck that did this. Jack asks the IMPORTANT question: “Where’s Cas?” Dean looks down and hesitates, but eventually says, “He saved me.” He tells them the cliff’s notes version of what happened while shoving down A MILLION feelings of regret and loss and I want to hug him. “Cas is gone,” he finishes, and hahahahahahahahah NOPE. Sam, in disbelief, calls his side-ship Jody. No answer. 

They head to an empty sports bar (AND WHAT I WOULD DO TO GO TO A BAR WITH FRIES AND TVs AND BEER RIGHT NOW). Jack stays outside and prays to Cas. He gets nothing and starts walking. All the flowers start to wilt as he passes them. WHAT IS HAPPENING? 

Sam blames himself and is done. They decide to meet with Chuck.

They tell him that they’ll play his little game. They’ll kill each other. Dean demands that they put everything back to normal first, though. “The people, the birds, Cas.” All of it. (WEEPING.)

Dean, DEAN, Cas doesn’t want to be in a world where you don’t exist. 

Yeah, Chuck doesn’t care. He’s really into the brothers' suffering alone story. “That’s deep, that’s sophisticated, that’s a page turner.” Oh, Chuck, you dumb bastard. 

Cut to the bunker where they’re all suffering on their own. Jack wallows in his room. Sam wanders the halls, and Dean lays passed out on a bottle of liquor in the library. Sam finds Dean in the library, and Jack soon joins them to tell them that he’s sensing another presence in the world. 

They head to a gas station. Dean heads for the bathroom, and hears a whimpering. IT’S A DOG. And Dean’s so happy to have found him. He names the dog Miracle. 

Dean brings the dog out to show Sam. He tells him that Miracle is coming home with them. I AM DYING. Sam is shocked. Dean tells him not to worry because he’ll only let him ride shotgun if Sam is cool with it. Lol. 

Of course, all good things must end. And Miracle dusts like everything else in existence. Dean looks around and sees Chuck giving him a smarmy salute. F U C K  O F F,  C H U C K. Dean doesn’t even like dogs, so there. (The patented Robert Singer ZOOM tells me that Dean does indeed care about dogs.) 

(Sidenote: The dog is Cas, right? Dean’s beyond happy to see it. And is ready to let it sit shotgun, but only if Sam’s okay with it. And he’s REALLY upset that they can’t “save a dog”. Just thinking thoughts.) 

They head to a church. 

Once they’re in the church of very dangerously burning candles, they’re greeted by Michael. 

Michael tells them that he’s been chilling here to avoid Chuck’s notice. Adam is gone. (RIP Winchester brother that never got a chance.) Michael monologs a bit about humans and stuff. Dean recognizes a little soldier when he sees one. Michael wants to help though. 

Back at the bunker, Sam shows him Death’s book on God. Michael tries opening the book with no luck. (Sidenote: The DRAMA of the lights being lower is killing me.) 

*Dean is In Love Alert*

The brothers take a moment alone in the dark kitchen. 

Dean gets a call. 

Dean takes the call and because he’s a precious bean that actually believes what he’s hearing. Cas is at the bunker. He’s outside. He’s hurt. 

Dean takes off like a rocket AND I’M DYING. BBY BOY. NO. 

It’s not Cas. It’s Lucifer. 

UGH. 

(DOUBLE UGH.)

(INFINITY UGH.)

Yeah, Lucifer totally sees what’s between Dean and Cas and gains access to the bunker because of that. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. 

He tells the brothers that the Empty kicked him out to finish Chuck. He brought a reaper to prove to the brothers that he’s good people (NOT.) 

Betty is bound and gagged. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) Lucifer then kills her. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) 

Betty is the new Death! 

(Sorrynotsorry for the lack of pictures. I think we all know why.) 

She asks for the book. If they give it to her, she can read it. 

They set her up in the dungeon reading room, and she doesn’t need helpers. 

Meanwhile, Lucifer is playing cards and there’s ZERO interaction with Jack and him. AND I AM LIVING. Like, it’s 100% clear that Jack isn’t his son and he does not see him as a father. Jack’s father is dead. AND I AM LIVING. (But also sad because Cas is dead.) 

Lucifer does interact with Michael though. Michael does not trust his brother.

Betty pops up with the book and the end of God. Lucifer ashes her with a snap of his fingers. 

(HOW?!>!>?)

Wherps, he grabs the book from her and reveals his hand. He’s working with Chuck.   

Lucifer and MIchael battle it out. Jack watches. Lucifer tries to convince Jack to join the losing team.

Michael stabs Lucifer with an archangel blade. Mercifully, there are no haughty speeches or further peacocking between these two. Lucifer sparks out, gone at last. GOOD RIDDANCE.

Later, Dean has a heart to heart with Michael in the kitchen. Michael’s reeling that Chuck brought Lucifer back from the dead instead of seeking him out. But he’s definitely NOT BITTER, NOPE. 

Dean reveals that Chuck’s book is open and full of mysterious Enochian symbols. Sam’s going to translate those, and figure out how Chuck dies, so they can start knocking down some dominoes!

In the library later, Sam reveals that he’s uncovered a spell to stop Chuck. (Jack was researching nephilim on the computer! Jack bby) When complete, the spell will unleash an “unstoppable force” against Chuck. They head out to a special location, light the spell, and it sends three bright beams of power into the sky.

But the spell explodes. They look up to find Chuck standing there. Chuck...chucks the Winchesters and Jack away. He thanks Michael for tipping him off. “It’s always been my destiny to serve you,” Michael tells him. But that’s not enough for Chuck to forgive him for siding with the Winchesters even once. Chuck fractures Michael into light. The last archangel bites the dust.

He turns his attention to the Winchesters. It’s time to finish them. He’s canceling the show. At the last minute, he decides it’ll be more fun to beat them to death instead of snapping them out of existence. It’s……..YIKES PRETTY BRUTAL TO WATCH. “Just stay down,” he counsels them - practically begs them. But they won’t stop. Broken and bleeding, they hold each other up against him.

Sam laughs at Chuck’s confusion. “You lose,” he tells him. Behind Chuck, the camera pans to Jack. 

Chuck tries to snap Jack dead but his snapper isn’t working.

Jack lays his hands on Chuck and golden power streams from Chuck into Jack. Jack snaps his fingers once, and the Winchesters are healed. As they say in the industry...suck it, Chuck. 

Sam drops Death’s book in front of Chuck, but the pages are blank. Only Death can even SEE anything in the book (making the whole “can’t open book covers” thing into nothing but a drama llama move). The Winchesters came up with a plan B and spout this in a quick exposition dump.

Michael was jealous of Lucifer being “chosen” by Chuck

They made up the story of a spell, so Michael would tell Chuck

Jack’s “bomb” quest turned him into a power vacuum - thus the dying plants

When Michael and Lucifer fought in the bunker, the power exchange charged Jack back to full nephilim strength

Chuck killing Michael and beating on the Winchesters allowed Jack to absorb god-power

“This is why you’re my favorites,” Chuck gasps. He doesn’t know what happens next, but he’s ready to die “at the hands of Sam Winchester. Of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.”

And. Babies. Sweeties. I know that there are lots of people who have problems with this episode but THIS! THIS. This next line makes it all worth it. Because Dean tells him, “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” He took how Castiel sees him and he planted that damn seed in his own heart and watered it even in the depths of despair and now it’s so mighty a force that he just walks away from their lifelong tormentor. GUYS. I LOVE IT. I’m so emotional right now.

Jack confirms that Chuck won’t get his powers back. “It’s not his power anymore.” And AGAIN I am emotional thinking about fanfiction and fanart and giving this show to us when it’s all done. Ahem. Anyway. Chuck’s gonna grow old and die and be forgotten like every single human. (Ooookay that got a little dark, but I’ll allow it. This is a “to the pain” speech, after all.)

Chuck begs for them not to leave him, reduced to sniveling panic in the Impala’s dust cloud.

The Winchesters head back to a small, empty town. Jack closes his eyes in the sunshine as “Get Together” by the Youngbloods croons across the scenes. People return to the world and it’s gentle and beautiful - everyone returning to their day-to-day. “Come on people now, smile on your brother!” the song implores. 

Love is but a song to sing Fear's the way we die You can make the mountains ring Or make the angels cry Though the bird is on the wing And you may not know why

Come on people now Smile on your brother Everybody get together Try to love one another Right now

And look. I know this is just a song, and this is just a show. But this is my hope for this show and these characters - steeped in darkness for so long. And this is my hope for our actual real world too. It’s hard for me to separate the two so YES I’M CRYING AS I TYPE THIS. May this song lead us into the next episode and destroy me in a fountain of hopeful light.

Erm. anyway. Miracle the dog runs into the scene! It IS a damn miracle! Dean and Sam are so proud of Jack! Jack confirms that Amara is with him and they’re in harmony. I’m so happy that Amara got a happy peaceful forever after with her nougat nephilim grand-nephew. Dean assumes that Jack’s coming back to the bunker with them. He’s top dog, “he can do whatever he wants now.” (And readers, I like that Dean says whatever “he wants” and not whatever the Winchesters want. I think it shows personal growth!)

Jack declines. He’s already home - he’s everywhere and everything. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain. In every speck of dust that the wind blows. And in the sand, the rocks, and the sea.” Jack doesn’t want to lead people, or be prayed or sacrificed to. He wants to let them discover the truth in their own hearts, in their own time. “Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best - they can be. And that’s what to believe in.” I have to say, I was fervently against Jack-as-God until it happened. But just like everything to do with Jack, once it happens I just go...okay, cool. I’m on board!

In the bunker, Dean and Sam drink beer and comment on the quiet. “To everyone that we lost along the way,” Dean toasts. Sam realizes that they can write their own story now. “Just us,” he says (and it sounds like a bleak echo in the empty bunker). Behind them, the table has SW, DW, MW, Jack, and Castiel engraved and...MY HEART.

The Winchesters leave to go find out what freedom feels like and we get a montage of past scenes from the show, and characters we loved or loved to hate. Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” plays us off in sweet, mournful nostalgia.

The Winchesters drive into a sepia-tinged world. This episode is like my Thanksgiving plate mid-meal - all mashed together for faster plot consumption. But on a rewatch, there’s a lot to like too! It’s a goodbye to one story...

And we leave nostalgia behind. It’s time for them to figure out their own story and I AM SO EXCITED to see what happens next! (Lays some nougat candy bars on my altar for Andrew Dabb for one last vigil.)

WHERE’S THE QUOTES?

Where’s Cas?

Who’ve thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle? C’mon, Miracle!

What’s an ending?

Eternal suffering sounds good on paper, but as a viewing experience it’s just kinda...meh

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[notyourdayrdream]

Tan Hands and Tan Lines

Day Three, Side A: Ubiquitous

(read it here on AO3)

Nobody wants to spend their summer vacation working. But spending it with your two best friends wasn’t too bad. So when Mercedes told Rachel and Kurt that there were two openings at the retro fifties diner in downtown Lima, they jumped on the opportunity.

Diner in the Sky started out as a relatively slow job. It had just opened a few months ago and the word hadn’t gotten out to much of the city that it even existed. In those early days, Kurt and his friends spent the afternoons and nights singing through the empty store, twirling on black and white checkered floors. Finn and some of the other New Directions would stop by before the sunset and order milkshakes with fries. He and Rachel would not-so-mysteriously disappear for five or so minutes, and Kurt noticed the way Mercedes and Sam giggled around each other. He eventually cornered her during a graveyard shift, and she admitted that they had been dating in secret since prom. It took two days for Mercedes to win Kurt back, after buying him the new Marc Jacobs piece he had been dreaming about.

It was a cute job with even cuter outfits. Until July fourth came around.

The mayor of Lima stopped by that night and made a big show of it all, forever putting the little diner on the map. The appearance knocked out every ubiquitous fast food joint in town. It’s been packed every night since.

“I need a number five without onions!” Kurt hears Rachel scream into the kitchen, followed by the clanging of a few plates. She storms out a minute later, hair sticking to the sweat on her face.

“I hate this job,” she grumbles to him as she makes her way to another table of hungry customers.

Kurt leans his body weight against the counter. The metal is cool against his skin, a nice distraction from the oppressive summer heat. The bar isn’t nearly as packed tonight as the rest of the restaurant, mostly just little kids ordering heart attack inducing malts and ice cream cones. He’s adjusting the stupid rectangle shaped hat on his hat when he hears the door jingle at nine o’clock on the dot.

Blaine Anderson strolls into the diner with his little private smile, pulling his usual denim jacket off as he goes. He’s humming again, a pop song Kurt notices. Probably Katy Perry. He overheard Blaine tell Rachel she was his most listened to artist last week. Not that he was listening to hear if his name came up in conversation or anything like that. That would be crazy.

They meet eyes for a brief second, hazel to blue. Blaine grins before sliding onto one of the red leather barstools. “Hell again?” His cheeks are flushed pink, but Kurt blames it on the heat.

“Yeah,” Kurt replies, sounding breathier than usual. Blaine has a way of doing that to him. With his funny quirks and ability to make restaurant issued bowties sexy, the Dalton Academy junior has snuck his way into Kurt’s heart from the second he started working with him.

There’s a particularly loud crash in the corner of the building, followed by a baby screaming. Blaine takes a moment to sober himself, eyelashes fanning out on the apple of his cheeks. “I better get to work. I mean, I should get to work.” He’s flailing, adorably so. “I mean, I should check that out.” Blaine stumbles. The back of his neck is red as he walks away.

“Remind me again why you won’t ask him out?” Mercedes says with a poke to Kurt’s shoulder. Her hair is still intact, textured curls bouncing at her shoulders. The only way you’d know she had been working was the ketchup colored stains on her baby blue dress and apron. “He’s obviously into you.”

Kurt’s thought about it so many times, and the answer is that he doesn’t know. Competing schools wasn’t an excuse, it was summer. Besides, the Warblers had been so gracious in their loss at Regionals that they invited the New Directions over for coffee at the Lima Bean.

Truth is, he was scared. He’s never had a boyfriend, let alone asked a boy out or even told one they were handsome. This is still Ohio, and being out and proud has its consequences. He knows Blaine is gay at least, so his crushing isn’t creepy.

It sort of terrifies him to care about someone so deeply. When Blaine came in with red rimmed eyes after his fifteen minute break one night in the middle of June, Kurt sat with him as he ranted about how awful his dad was. He’s the only friend Kurt has that likes to watch old black and white movies for fun. Blaine makes him laugh so hard he cries, and everytime he brushes past Kurt during the busy nights, the spot tingles for until he gets home.

Kurt sighs. “I don’t know.” He rests his head against the edge of the soda machine. “Crushes are so damned difficult.” Mercedes hums in sympathy.

“It’ll work out, boo. Even if Rachel and I have to force the two of you to close together like last time.” He can feel her laugh beside him, and soon he’s laughing too. That was a good night.

“Kurt! ‘Cedes!” Rachel all but screams, turning a few heads. After knowing the girl for two years, he’s convinced she only has two settings: Loud and Louder.

Her face is bright pink and there’s a deep crease between her brows. She’s got her Business Face on. “What’re you two doing? This large party just came in, and you guys are just sitting here! A little help would be appreciated!” She huffs, pumps tapping against the floor as she walks to the back at a dizzying speed.

Kurt and Mercedes share an eye roll before going opposite ways. The party Rachel was talking about is huge, five adults and three kids under ten years old. After finding a table large enough so they’d all be comfortable, he pulls out a notepad and asks what drinks he can get them started with.

An older woman starts speaking in rapid fire Italian, gesturing to the rest of the group, who nod in return. Kurt instantly regrets taking up French instead of literally any other language.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, hoping they could understand. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

A younger man with a beard cocks his head and speaks in an incredibly thick accent. How a family of Italians decided to spend a summer in boring Ohio confuses him. “Could we get another waiter?” He stutters through the sentence, and Kurt feels bad to inconvenience them.

There’s a familiar tingle on his left shoulder. “I can help them,” Blaine whispers, side-stepping him to get closer to the table. He says something to the family, who grin back at him. He has that effect on people.

“You speak Italian?” Kurt hisses. This guy is just full of surprises.

Blaine puts his head down and smiles. He shrugs like everyone in America is fluent in the romantic language. “I spent a few summers in southern Italy with my grandmother when I was younger.” Because of course he did.

“Oh,” Kurt offers lamely. “Okay, well tell them I’m really sorry for any inconvenience.”

Blaine smirks at him and turns to the table. He says something to them, laughing afterwards. Kurt watches behind him, amazed at the way Blaine can make anyone feel so important. Not to mention Italian is such a hot language to hear coming out of his mouth.

A kid who can’t be above twelve pipes up, pointing back to Kurt. The rest of the family looks back at him too.

Kurt pulls at the edge of his crisp button down. They’re looking back and forth between him and Blaine, unnerving him beyond belief. He feels called out and exposed even though he has no idea what’s being said about him. So he just returns a wavering smile and turns to leave and prepares to never show his face again when he hears it.

Amore.

That stops him in his tracks. Love? Kurt’s no language expert, but the word is pretty universal in every one of them. He turns around to ask Blaine for a translation, but to his surprise he’s gone uncharacteristically silent.

Blaine eventually stammers through a reply, hands stuck stiffly at his sides. Kurt hears him murmur, “I’ll be back with your drinks,” before walking into the kitchen as fast as he can. He won’t make eye contact with Kurt the rest of the night.

Diner in the Sky closes at eleven every night, and it takes another thirty minutes on a good day to scrub stains from the tabletops and lock everything up. It’s Kurt’s night to close up. Usually either Rachel or Mercedes is on schedule to help him, but since his luck is just absolute shit, he has to clean up the place with Blaine.

Closing up is usually an intimate job. Just two people, the nostalgia of an old diner, and a jukebox. Depending on who you’re with, it’s either heaven or hell. Kurt’s not sure which one he’ll get tonight. The other two times he’s had to suffer through it with Blaine, it’s been fun. They dirtied dishes making vanilla shakes and doo-wopping along to the jukebox tunes.

Tonight feels like purgatory. Blaine avoids him at any cost. If Kurt goes to mop the kitchen floors, he goes to the front room, and vice versa. He won’t speak to him, or even acknowledge him when he accidentally sweeps Kurt’s feet. It’s fine at first, Kurt can handle the awkwardness. But eventually, it simmers to anger.

“Can I talk to you?” He calls after Blaine. He stops like a kid caught in the cookie jar, hand freezing on the light switch. He turns slowly, eyes as big as saucers.

“Yeah?”

Kurt glares at him for a moment before speaking. “Look, I don’t know what that family said to you, but it gives you no right to be so absolutely rude—”

“They said I looked like I loved you.” It comes out as if it pains him to say.

That sentence makes any anger Kurt has, flow out of him and into a pond on the floor. Love?

He scraps up any dignity he has left and smiles to himself. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?” Blaine snaps, coming to sit on the stool next to him. His leg trembles on the floor. Kurt can recognize now the little tells he didn’t know he ever noticed; how Blaine presses his thumb and ring finger together when he’s especially nervous, the way his eyes seem to light up when he looks at him.

“Love me?” Kurt continues, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He wants to hear him say it.

Blaine doesn’t answer, instead opting to bury his head into his hands. Kurt hears him mumble to himself. Something about not the right time and tan messed everything up. His stomach flip flops.

“So,” Kurt drags, tapping the edge of the metal counter. “Love, huh?”

“Shut up,” Blaine mutters. They sit in comfortable silence for a little, until the hum of Ella Fitzgerald fizzles off the record. Then, Kurt feels a warm, almost clammy hand on top of his. It’s enough of an answer for him.

[celiabowens]

Book recommendations, Literary Fiction edition(?)

A companion to this post (which should be updated, at some point lol)

Short Story Collections: 

Salt Slow by Julia Armfield: grotesque and disquieting collection about women and their experience in society, how they view and perceive their own body and desires. Pretty strong mythic, magical realism, body horror elements in here.

The Man Who Mistook his Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales by Oliver Sacks: fascinating collection in which Sacks reminishes some particularly odd stories of patients who had to cope with bizarre neurological disorders.

Home Remedies by Xuan Juliana Wang: a collection focused on the Chinese millennial experience. Stories about love and loss, family, immigration and the uncertainty of the future. (also there’s an extremely beautiful short story about a pair of Chinese divers that broke me forever!!!)

Bestiary: The Selected Stories by Julio Cortázar: unforgettable selection of short stories that mix surreal elements to everyday life and apparently ordinary events. Would also recommend All Fires the Fire by the same author.

Novels:

How Much of These Hills is Gold by C. Pam Zhang: one of the biggest debuts of 2020, it follows two recently orphaned children through the gold rush era. An adventurous historical fiction piece that focuses on themes like gender, identity and immigration, this is one of my favorites 2020 reads so yeah, I’d really push it in anyone’s hands to be honest.

Burial Rites by Hannah Kent: historical fiction inspired by the last days of a young woman accused of murder in Iceland in the 1820s. A quite bleak, but beautiful novel (the prose is stunning).

The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave: historical fiction novel set in Norway in the 17th century, following the lives of a group of women in a village that recently (barely) survived a storm that killed all of the island’s men. 

The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead: the 2020 winner of the Pulitzer Prize. The book follows the lives of two boys sentenced to a reform school in Jim Crow-era Florida. A bleak, but important book, with a shocking final twist (side note, I’ve been recommended The Underground Railroad by Whitehead as well, but I haven’t gotten to it yet. If you’re looking for something quite peculiar, if a bit less refined when compared to The Nickel Boys, The Intuitionist is a quite odd pulpy noir set in an alternate NY about...elevator inspectors *and racism*). 

The Leavers by Lisa Ko: haunting book about identity and immigration as the main character is apparently abandoned by his own mother (an undocumented Chinese immigrant) during his childhood. Mainly a story about living in between places and constantly feeling out of place. 

The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa: when everyone would probably recommend Murakami (not much against Murakami besides his descriptions of women and their boobs), I suggest checking out some of Ogawa’s books. The recently translated The Memory Police, published in Japan in the mid 90s, is an orwellian dystopian novel set on an unnamed Island where memories slowly disappear. Would also really recommend The Housekeeper and The Professor, a really short novel about a housekeeper hired to clean and cook for a math professor who suffered an injury that causes him to remember new things for only 80 minutes. 

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong: Ocean Vuong’s debut novel, following a son writing a letter to his illiterate mother. The book seems quite polarising due to Vuong’s writing style (his poetry background is really quite clear and the book doesn’t really follow a regular narrative, rather than portrays events and memories in brief flashes), but I loved it and I’d really just recommend going into it without knowing much? It’s a beautiful exploration of language, family history, trauma, sexuality and more.

Exist West by Mohsin Hamid: this book was fairly popular when it came out (in 2017 I believe) and was often incorrectly marketed as magical realism. Hamid’s book is a brief and quietly brutal journey with a few fantastical elements, following a couple trying to escape their city in the middle of war, as they hear about peculiar doors that can whisk people far away. The doors are, of course, a quite effective metaphor for the immigrant experience and the book does a great job at portraying the main characters’ relationship. 

Family Trust by Kathy Wang: this has a really low rating on goodreads which...wow i hate that. Family Trust is a literary family saga/drama about a Chinese-American family residing in the Silicon Valley. It’s often been compared to Crazy Rich Asians, but I believe it to be more on the literary side and definitely less lighthearted. 

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee: historical family saga (one of my favorites tbh, I’m absolutely biased, but this book deserved more hype) set in Korea and Japan throughout the 20th century, following four generations of a Korean family. While I wasn’t the biggest fan of the prose, the book has really great characterisation and absolutely fascinating characters. (I’d suggest checking out eventual TW first, in this case). 

The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker: another recent read, The Silence of the Girls, while not faultless, is a pretty good retelling of The Iliad, narrated through Briseis’ perspective. The prose can feel a bit too modern at times, but it provides the reader with some really strong quotes and descriptions. 

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng: and also Little Fires Everywhere by the same author, to be honest. If you’re looking for really really good family dramas, with great explorations of rather complex and nuanced relationships? You should just check out her stuff. Vibrant characters, good writing, and some superb portrayal of longing here. 

Nutshell by Ian McEwan: i’m starting with this one only to grab your attention (if you’ve even reached this part lol, congrats), but McEwan’s one of my favorite authors and I’d recommend almost everything I’ve read by him? Nutshell, specifically, is a really odd and fun retelling of Hamlet...told from the pov of an unborn baby. But really, I’d also recommend Atonement (of course), The Children Act, Amsterdam? All good stuff. 

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles: I’ve read this book this summer and, while I’m still unsatisfied with the ending, I’d thoroughly recommend this? The novel follows Count Alexander Rostov, who, in 1922, is sentenced to a lifetime of house arrest in the Metropol, a luxurious hotel in the center of Moscow. A singular novel, funny and heartbreaking at once, following a vibrant cast of characters as they come and go from Rostov’s secluded life. 

Human Acts by Han Kang: from the bestselling author of The Vegetarian (which honestly, I thoroughly despised lol), Human Acts focuses on the South Korean Gwangju uprising. It’s a really odd (and at times grotesque) experimental novel (one chapter is narrated from the pov of one of the bodies if I remember correctly), so one really has to be in the mood for it, but it’s a really unique experience, worth a chance.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon: sort of a really chunky historical adventure novel following two artists in 1940s/1950s NY, who create a superhero and use him to wage a one man war on the Nazis. A bit slow in places (the pace can be uneven at times and the book is quite long), but an enjoyable novel that does a pretty good job when it comes to exploring rather classic themes of American contemporary fiction: the American dream and the figure of the artist (I think there’s a particularly interesting focus on how the artists navigates the corporate world and its rules) and their creative process.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel: this is a pretty classic rec, the book really got a lot of hype when it came out? It’s a dystopian-ish novel set after civilisation’s collapse, following a post-apocalyptic troupe (of Shakespearean actors). It’s a really odd, but surprisingly quiet book. Not sure if a pandemic is exactly the right time to read it, but I thoroughly recommend it. 

The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng: I feel like this book is extremely complex to summarise to be honest. In short, it’s a book set in Malaya at the end of the 1940s, following a woman who, after surviving Japanese wartime camps, spends her life prosecuting war criminals. But truthfully this book is about conflicts and contradictions and in particular about remembering and forgetting. Lovely prose. 

The Secret History by Donna Tartt: and also The Goldfinch. I’m sure no one really needs me to introduce Donna Tartt?

The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton: quite cerebral mystery set in New Zealand in 1866. Honestly you have to be a patient reader who enjoys novels with a pretty complex structure to like this, but if you’re into this sort of challenging read...go for it? It’s a book of interlocking stories (with 10+ pov and main characters) with a really fascinating structure based on astrological charts, which provide insight to the main characters’ traits and personality as the mystery unfolds.

The Hours by Michael Cunningham: ok...do not watch the movie first. The Hours is an incredibly difficult novel to describe to be honest: it begins by recalling the last moments of Virginia Woolf’s life, as she’s writing Mrs. Dalloway. The book focuses on three separate narratives, each one following a specific character throughout a single day of their own life. Goes without saying that I’d suggest being familiar with Mrs. Dalloway itself first though.

An Artists of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro: not one of Ishiguro’s most famous works (most start reading his work with Never Let Me Go or The Remains of the Day), but probably my favorite out of those I’ve read so far. The novel follows  Masuji Ono, an artist who put his work in service of imperialist propaganda throughout WWII. Basically a reflection and an account of the artist’s life as he deals with the culpability of his previous actions. 

Stoner by John Williams: I feel like this is an odd book to recommend, because I don’t think someone can truly get the hype unless they read it themselves. Stoner is a pretty straight-forward book, following the ordinary life of an even more ordinary man. And yet it’s so compelling and never dull in its exploration of the characters’ lives and personalities. Also, I’ve just finished Augustus by the same author, which is an epistolary historical fiction novel narrating some of the main events of Augustus’ reign through letters from/by his closest friends and enemies. Really liked it. 

Do Not Say We Have Nothing by Madeleine Thien: back to integenerational family sagas (because I love those, in case it wasn’t clear lol), Do Not Say We Have Nothing follows a young woman who suddenly rediscovers her family’s fractured past. The novel focuses on two successive generations of a Chinese family through China’s 20th century history. While not every character got the type of development they deserved, the author does a good job when it comes to gradually recreating the family’s complex and nuanced history. 

There’s probably more but I doubt anyone’s going to reach the end or anything so. There’s that lol.

[yikesharringrove]

His Fault.

Thank you @thinger-strang for the commission! 💕

Read on Ao3

Steve took Max first, grabbing her around the knees and lifting.

He didn’t know which kid was which, just picked them up and shoved them through the hole in the ground.

No thoughts in his head besides getting the kids to safety.

He was still dizzy from the fight, from Max’s wild driving, from being thrown into low oxygen conditions.

He grabbed Dustin.

The last kid to get through.

There was a rumble.

The ground shook.

And Steve stared death right in its face.

A pack of demodogs, heading right for them.

He grabbed Dustin, thought maybe, maybe he could shield him.

If this kid dies, it’s all my fault.

But the ‘dogs passed them by.

On their way to protect from El.

Because their plan didn’t work. Their carefully crafted idea to help El was bullshit.

He pushed Dustin up to safety.

He had brought these kids down here for no reason.

They had all gotten hurt for no reason.

All because of him.

-

Steve’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

He was trying to get himself to get up, get out of the car.

Staring through the windshield at the small service.

Barb’s funeral.

The girl that died right outside his house. The girl who died in his pool.

The girl he killed.

By being too preoccupied with Nancy. By being too much of a stupid fucking jock.

It’s all his fault.

He got out of the car, stayed mostly to himself throughout the service.

He hugged Barb’s parents afterwards, offered his condolences.

He got the feeling that they never really liked him.

That’s okay. He doesn't really blame them.

And if they knew, if they knew what he did to their Barb-

They would do more than just not like him.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, thoughts of your fault your fault your fault whipping through his brain.

He killed Barb.

-

Steve was trying to think quickly.

It was a little tricky, what with the pounding in his head, the hits he was taking right to the gut.

He needed to somehow talk his way out of this.

Which sucked because talking has never been his strong point.

But he brought Robin into all of this. He had let Erica climb through those vents to get them into the elevator. He had helped Dustin suss out what the message meant.

Actually, he hadn’t.

He had been too fucking stupid to help with that.

No.

He had just encouraged the translation that was happening around him.

Had just walked three people right into the clutches of the Upside Down, and these violent goddamn Russians, and-

That one hurt.

He woke up sometime later to Robin yelling.

“Hey, will you stop yelling?”

“Steve! Oh my God! Steve!”

She sounded, actually relieved.

“Are you okay?”

-

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Robin was sitting next to him, both wrapped in thick blankets.

They had their own ambulance, Nancy and Jonathan in the one next door.

He had watched them take Billy off on a gurney, watched them slam a defibrillator to his body until his heart started beating again, watched them load him into the back of an ambulance, and take him off to the hospital.

The adrenaline, the heavy drugs, it was all out of his system.

And he was crashing.

“I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I shouldn’t have talked Dustin into translating the tape, I shouldn’t have-”

“Okay, Dingus. Let’s get some things straight. I’m pretty sure Dustin talked you into the translations. I don’t know if you’d be able to talk Dustin into anything. And you didn’t rope me into shit.”

“I mean, I mean with the Upside Down. This whole fucking conspiracy. You deserved to go your whole damn life without knowing any of this.”

“But Steve, I know about it now. The milk has been spilled. So stop crying.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it is.

-

“Hi, welcome to Family- Nancy?”

Nancy had stopped in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Steve. I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Yeah. You know, with the mall being all, burnt down. And stuff.” She nodded slowly, stock still in the doorway. “Can I help you find something?”

“No. Thanks. I’m just browsing.”

“Well, uh, let me know if you need help. Or ask Robin, maybe. She’s better with the recommends.” Nancy seemed to startle, stepping into the store properly.

“Thanks, Steve.” He smiled tightly at her.

They really hadn’t talked since breaking up.

Of course, they’d spoken in the summer, but that was less exchanging pleasantries, more how do we stop the giant fleshy monster that’s trying to take over the whole world?

Which isn’t quite the same.

She browsed through the aisles, Steve doodling on the carbon pad next to the register.

She smiled tightly at him, a few tapes in hand.

“So, uh, how are you?” They hadn’t spoken since that night. Since he wandered over to her ambulance, checking in with her and Jonathan.

“I’m okay. Just working and stuff. Obviously.”

“And how’s Billy?”

“Managing. He’s in all kindsa therapy and stuff now.”

“That’s, that’s good.” She was all stiff as he handed her her change. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

“Yeah, Nancy. Yeah, you too.”

He hated how shitty and awkward that had been.

Hated that she was the person he felt closest to for the better part of a year, and now they’re stuck with light conversation and forced smiles.

He pushed her so hard.

Always poking and poking.

Always too clingy, always too emotional, not emotional enough. Too insensitive, or just too much work.

He doesn’t know how anyone puts up with him.

-

“Hey,” Billy smiled softly at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that my little nurse is here.” Steve rolled his eyes, smiling back as he sat on the bed next to Billy.

He had brought him to his house from the military hospital.

Billy still had a long road of healing. His scars were pulled together, and the wounds were closed, but everything was still pretty rough.

“Can I get you anything?” Billy reached over for him.

His hands were scarred and rough, and he was still trying to regain feeling, the nerves having suffered far too much damage.

“Nah. Just sit with me.”

Steve took one of his hands, stretching his hand like the doctor had shown him.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Nah. My stomach’s all outta whack today. Don’t know if I could keep anything down.” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Are you, can I make you something? Soup?”

“Stevie, I’m okay. One day’s not gonna kill me.” It felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Something must've shown on his face because Billy was trying to sit up. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“No, I just-”

“It’s okay. Sorry.” Steve tried to gather himself.

“Don’t like jokes about you dying. Thought you were dead for, for like a week, you know. Before they told us you were stable.”

“Baby, it’s alright. I know it was hard on you.” Steve blinked rapidly.

“But I mean, it’s like, youwere the one, the one in the hospital I shouldn’t,” he stood up, Billy wincing as the bed shifted. “I’m gonna make you something.”

He was holding back tears as he spread peanut butter and jelly onto saltine crackers.

Billy had the best luck keeping it down when he felt sick.

He felt like shit whenever he did that. Got all mopey on Billy.

Billy was the one trying not to die in a hospital bed. Steve was just, doing what Steve does.

Making everything about himself.

He brought Billy the plate, kneeling next to him in bed.

“You okay?” Steve just shook his head, plastering on a nice smile for Billy.

“I’m fine, Bill. Just try to eat? For me?”

Billy managed three of the crackers before he heaved into the garbage bin placed next to the bed.

Steve felt like shit.

Billy’s core muscles were still healing, and throwing up only made him sore, made him tired and in pain.

“Billy, I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t have made Billy eat. Shouldn’t have tried to make himself feel better by force-feeding Billy while he felt bad.

When he finally stopped, Steve helped him to the bathroom to wash out his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Steve, it’s not your fault.”

“But you said you didn’t feel good.”

“You’re just trying to take care of me.”

Keyword here being trying.

Trying and failing at taking care of Billy.

-

“Steve, are you busy tonight?” Dustin had thrown open the door to Family Video stomping inside.

“I mean, no but I thought, isn’t tonight your big tournament?”

Dustin sighed dramatically.

“The arcade is closed.”

Dustin had been saving up for months, using the end of the summer to mow neighbors’ lawns.

Steve had even paid him to mow his own lawn.

He and the gang were going to rage for hours, Dustin organizing a special secret prize for whoever got the highest cumulative score.

He had put so much thought into everything, had been so excited.

And the arcade was closed.

“Can I talk to Keith?”

“Be my guest.”

Dustin pushed into the backroom.

Steve could hear his voice, could hear him arguing with Keith.

He came back out, Keith following behind.

“Harrington, I told you, customers aren’t allowed in the back.” He pointed to the Employees Only sign on the door. “Can you even read?” Keith rolled his eyes. Steve studied his shoes.

“And Henderson, I told you, the arcade is closed for renovations. A pipe burst in the storeroom.” Dustin Huffed. “Just, rent a movie or something. But you know, don’t ask for Harrington’s recommendation.”

Keith laughed to himself as he retreated to the back.

“Like I would ask you for a recommendation. I know what kind of movies you like.” Steve forced a smile at him.

“Sorry about your game night.” Dustin shrugged.

“I thought it’d be fun. We haven’t played DnD since Will moved. It just feels wrong without him, I guess. I thought this could bring us back to the fun spirit.”

“It’s a good idea. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to postpone.”

Steve just kinda lived with a big ol’ bit in his stomach these days.

But every time something like this happened, something where his friend was sad, and Steve was completely useless to help him, the pit seemed to grow.

He wonders what happens when the pit gets too big.

-

Billy stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly.

“You okay?”

Billy blew out a breath, rubbing his chest.

“Yeah. Just cold. It hurts.” They were standing outside, waiting for the kids to be finished with school.

Steve drove Dustin and Max home, usually brought Billy along with him.

Neil had been one of the flayed, the only casualty Billy said he didn’t feel bad for.

So Max had moved with her mom into a tiny two-bedroom house.

Billy was still staying with Steve for the time being.

“Oh! I got a sweater in my trunk.” Steve ran around to the back of the car, unlocking the trunk and digging through.

He kept his car pretty clean, just his bat, some jumper cables, and a go-bag.

So he should see the sweater right away.

But he didn’t.

He frantically shifted everything around.

“No, no.”

The sweater wasn’t there.

“Fuck are you, are you serious?”

He genuinely could cry.

Billy was blowing into his hands, rubbing them together when Steve slumped back over to him.

“Billy, I’m sorry. It’s not in there.” Billy squinted at him.

“That’s okay.”

“I thought it was, but I must’ve taken it out, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just, you know, come here and make it up to me.” He had a lazy smile on his face. “Come keep me warm.”

Steve wrapped himself around Billy, burying his face in his neck.

“I wish I could keep you warmer. I wish I had that sweater.”

“Baby, I’m okay. Just achy.”

Steve made sure to turn up the heat full blast when they got back in, the kids in the backseat.

-

“Fuck!”

The bottom of the box had given out, tapes crashing to the tiled floor.

He had been on his way to reshelve everything, after spending all day in the back rewinding.

But here he was, checking each plastic tape for cracks as he tried to find something else to put them in.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.”

Ah, yes. That’s what he needs right now. Keith standing over him while he cleaned up the mess of tapes.

“What’d you do now?”

“The box, it just fell apart.”

“You know, Robin really went out on a limb to you to get this job.” Keith was standing over him, staring down at Steve sill kneeling on the ground. “Maybe I should just fire you both.”

“Wait, no!”

Steve’s heart was in his throat.

It felt like he was gonna choke on it.

“You, you can’t, I don’t care if you hate me, okay, just, just don’t fire Robin!”

Keith loved to do this. Dangle his measly power as manager over Steve.

Robin said it was some kind of revenge fantasy for how shitty Steve was to him in high school.

Steve just figures he deserves it.

Bottom of the food chain now. That’s where he is.

The guy that thought he was the hottest shit to walk the Earth. The guy that barely graduated. The guy that had to linger around his hometown. The guy has no life. The guy that has no future.

“Why not? She vouched for you.” Keith was eating a pack of M&Ms, crunching each one loudly between his teeth.

“Just, just don’t.” Steve felt like he could cry.

“Then get this cleaned up, and I’ll consider letting you both stay.”

Steve just nodded.

He didn’t think his voice would work without cracking all over the place.

He found a crate in the stockroom, stacking the tapes as quickly as he could.

He liked reshelving.

The organization system made sense, and he could do it easily without having to know anything about the movies, without having to know anything besides the alphabet, and the genre sticker each tape had.

Robin was better with customers.

Better at making change and recommending movies. Better at talking to people without sounding like an idiot.

But he finished reshelving, and had to retreat behind the counter.

“You’re being weird today.”

Steve had zoned out, staring through the front windows.

“Sorry.”

“Bad night?” he just nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about Keith’s little threat. She would just go on a rampage. Probably yell at him a lot. And if Steve being a fuck up didn’t get her fired, defending him for sure would. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie. Most nights are bad. “Steve, are you sure you’re okay? It feels like,” she glanced around. “It feels like you’re getting, like, worse.”

“Sorry.” She furrowed her brows.

“That’s not something you need to apologize for, you know that, right? I’m just worried about you.”

“Sorry.” Her face pinched up even more.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, I, just you know. Not sleeping much.”

“I could come over? You said it’s better when there’s sound in your house. I can stomp around for a while.” He huffed a laugh through his nose, giving her the biggest smile he could muster.

“That’s okay. I’m managing, Rob.” She raised one eyebrow. “And besides, I, uh, I won’t be home tonight.”

She made a face at him, pursing her lips so she didn’t smile.

Billy had gotten his own apartment with the money the government had given him, a little thank you for your discretion gift when he was released from the hospital.

He had spent nearly a month in a coma, a month in which Steve had only left his room a handful of times. After waking up, delirious, and in pain, he had spent the next six months in heavy rehabilitation, in daily therapy, both mental and physical, in which Steve practically lived at the hospital with him.

They had bonded more than Robin could ever know, both boys spilling everything to one another, every dark thought, every bad memory.

Long story short, they were inseparable.

“Then have a fun night. And talk to Billy. Tell him you’re struggling.”

“I’m not-”

She stomped her foot, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, okay.”

-

“Shit.”

Steve knew he had a key to Billy’s apartment.

But it wasn’t on his key ring.

“Are you kidding me?” He knocked on the door.

It took Billy a few minutes to come get him.

“I’m sorry, I, I lost my key.” Billy looked tired . It was Thursday. Billy was a stockboy at Meldvald’s on Thursdays. His doctor said getting a job would be nice, that it would help him rejoin society, make him feel good to support himself, all this shit.

Mostly, it just made Billy’s sore.

“It’s okay.”

“No, but, it’s not on my ring! I don’t know where it fell off, it could be anywhere, you might have to change the locks or-”

“Steve! It’s fine. Just get in here.”

Steve snapped his jaw closed. Billy shuffled back to the couch, groaning as he sat down slowly.

“Can I get you something? Have you eaten? I can rub your back if-”

“Harrington, just come sit with me.” Billy was giving him a little half-smile.

Steve stumbled over to the couch, and tucked himself right under Billy’s arm.

“What are we watching?”

“Some soap. There’s been a marathon all evening. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve leaned his head against Billy.

He had no clue what was going on. Had a question on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask about the plot points, the characters.

But he’s bothered Billy enough tonight, making him get up to open the door, always, always bothering-

“Hey, where’d you go?” Billy was stroking one rough hand through his hair.

“Nowhere.”

“Robin called me from the video store.” Steve sighed, burying his face into Billy’s neck. “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m okay.”

“Yeah, you’re always okay.” He said it like he was mad, like he was frustrated with Steve.

He pulled back, sliding to the other end of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Billy was staring blankly at him. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad. What are you even-” he cut himself off. “Steve, talk to me. You’re getting, distant.”

“I’m-”

“Please stop apologizing.”

Steve swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to help you.”

“I-” Steve’s throat was closing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

Billy shifted stiffly, reaching out for Steve’s hand.

“Talk to me, Baby. You know I’ll listen.”

“I, uh, I just.” His jaw was moving, but he couldn’t form any words.

Billy took his hands, pulling him gently.

Steve let himself be tugged, let himself fall into Billy’s lap.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“All of it.”

“Can you, maybe elaborate?”

“Everything. It’s all my fault.” His chest felt pulled tight, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. “Everything, everything. My fault.”

Billy had no fucking idea what to do.

Steve was breathing sharply, his eyes squeezed closed.

He had both hands in his hair, pulling roughly.

“Steve, hey.” He took his wrists, trying to stop him. “Steve, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” Steve shook his head.

“Just, just try to take as deep a breath as you can, okay?”

Billy was trying to remember what his shrink had told him, the tips for dealing with his own panic.

But watching Steve fall apart, well. It was hard for Billy to keep it together.

He sat with Steve, holding his hands until he opened his eyes, until he was breathing without Billy reminding him to do it.

“Steve. Sugar. Talk to me.”

Steve was still slumped over, still had his head in Billy’s lap.

He turned to bury his face in Billy’s thigh.

“Sometimes I feel like the world is crushing me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Can you explain that to me? You said everything was your fault.”

“Like, like Barb. She, it was my fault she died, and my fault the kids almost got hurt in the tunnels, and my fault that Dustin and Robin and Erica got stuck in the lab, and, and, and I’m so bad at taking care of you. I can’t do anything right.”

Billy could feel his tears, wet patches soaking through his sweatpants.

“You do a lot of stuff right!”

“Keith told me he was gonna fire Robin today, because I messed up again.”

“Fuck Keith. No way that creep has firing power. And maybe you should talk to Robin. Or go to your boss about him. He just likes going on a power trip with you.

“And as for, well everything, Pretty Boy, none of that was your fault. Barb was killed by, by a monster-”

“At my house, at my party, in my pool.”

“Still not your fault.”

“I thought she had left, you know? I didn’t know she was out there.”

“That just proves my point! You didn’t know she was out there, you didn’t know what was going to happen. That whole event , it had nothing to do with you. And the kids like, fully kidnapped you to bring you to the tunnels. If anything, that’s my fault for, you know. Doing what I did.”

Billy took a deep breath.

“I know a lot about guilt. I know how it feels like you’re just, you’re drowning. And you’re never gonna get to the surface, but that, that stuff. People make their own choices. You can’t control what other people do, you can just control what you do. And you, you do nothing but good. You just love, and you love, and you love. You always do what you think is best, and that’s what matters.”

“I feel bad all that time. Like, like right now I feel bad because, because of course you feel guilty, and I’m saying shit that doesn’t matter, and my problems they don’t-”

“Don’t you dare say your problems don't matter.” Billy was tangling his fingers through Steve’s hair, playing with it gently. “Your problems matter . They matter to me. It hurts me that you're struggling. It hurts me that I didn’t notice.”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

“You say that like it’s so easy. You take my guilt and you ease it. And that’s what I want for you.” Steve wasn’t crying anymore, but he was still curled up on the couch, still had his face pressed against Billy’s leg.

“I don’t know how. I’ve been so thoroughly crushed under all this that I’m scared of what happens if I claw through it all.”

“Maybe you won’t feel like shit all the time.”

“Feeling like shit is the easy part. It’s predictable.”

“I know. It’s safe .”

“Yeah. What do people even think about if they aren’t thinking about all the problems of the people closest to them and finding ways to blame themselves?” Billy laughed at that. Steve could feel his belly moving next to him.

It was a nice moment.

“I don’t know. That’s what movies and books are for. When you’ve got shit else to think about because you’re not trapped under a mountain of guilt.”

“Probably why I’ve read so few books, then.”

“We need to start watching more movies.”

-

“We need to talk about Steve.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s great to see you. How’s your day?” Robin rolled her eyes. She was leaned over the counter at Family Video, flicking through a magazine.

“He had a break down last night.”

“Finally. He’s been hanging on by a thread for weeks,”

“Yeah, try years.” She looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“He like, unloaded fully. He still blames himself for the girl that got killed in his backyard.”

“Wait, he thinks that’s his fault?”

“Yeah, and the kids in the tunnels, and also you and Dustin and Erica being brought into the whole mess. And also that he’s bad at taking care of me? Which, don’t know how he got that one. He does a really fucking good job taking care of me.”

“Jesus. He’s like, stressed.”

“To put it lightly.”

“So, what’s up? Where do I come in?”

“I’m planning an evening. A We Love Steve Harrington party.”

“I can be snack duty.” He smiled at her, clapping her on the shoulder. “It just us?”

“Yeah. I figured to leave the kids out of this one.”

“Good choice.”

“Be over at seven.” She nodded once, giving him a two-finger salute.

-

Steve was curled up, Billy spooned up behind him when there was a knock on the door.

“Go get that, will you? I’m all stiff.” Steve turned around, looking at Billy all concerned. “Go on. I’m okay.”

Billy had to shove him away before he finally went to answer the door.

“Oh, Robin, uh, hey.” She pushed one of her shopping bags into his arms.

“I was invited for an evening of bolstering you up.”

Billy came lumbering in, throwing himself down on the couch.

“I, don’t get it.”

“Robin’s here because you need some lovin’.” Steve’s bottom lip wobbled.

“That’s really nice.”

“You deserve it.” Billy was looking at him seriously.

Steve tucked himself into Billy’s side, Robin shoving herself next to him on the little couch.

Billy had pulled out all his lumpy blankets, and they had already torn into a box of cookies.

Steve was all warm.

Curled up in the blankets, watching The Aristocats.

“Thank you, guys. For this. It means a lot.”

“Can it, Dingus. Thomas O’Malley’s gonna sing.”