#and that when i look upon its face it'll be someone i love. so what now

[alisaint]

headcanon that mike doesn't like swimming in open bodies of water anymore because he still has the image of them pulling will's dead body out of the quarry fresh in his mind. a terrible awful moment for many reasons, one of which it being his first ever brush with the finality and pain of not only death but the grief that comes after. bonus points if he doesn't even realize he has this phobia or trigger until the party goes to the lake or whatever and he has a proper anxiety meltdown because he just doesn't like it and doesn't want to be here and didn't even want to come in the first place and the water's gross and it makes him feel dirty and disgusting and he doesn't want will to get in it because the last time he saw will in the water he was fucking DEAD and he feels like something really bad will happen again if he does so can they PLEASE go home now. can they please just get dressed and go home

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

[montimer]

Deadpool x reader

Gn!reader,him gaining a crush on ya

He tries not to believe it. Is there even a scenario where you would love him back?

He tries his best to push these feelings away. But he just can't help it, i mean why you gotta be so beautiful and kind to him and your voice, gosh- but the more he tries getting his mind off you the more it hurts. Especially if he goes to drink at a bar and gets so drunk he ends up with someone next to him in the morning.

So instead he lets his obsession grew.

Oh you're shopping? He just happens to be there too! Don't question it, he'll start yapping and drags you with himself.

He invites you over more than usual. You wanna watch a movie? Play games? If he wins he gets a kiss- whoa what,who said that?

He'll wanna have sleepovers. Throw pillow fights and no he won't sleep on the floor, make some space for him. Incase you don't tell him to sleep on the couch he'll totally not creepily stare at you as you sleep. Sure he'll fall asleep,,eventually.

He gives you tiny hints that he loves you. But of course you won't really catch them, after all he acts freaky with everyone.

And by flirting i mean, putting a hand around your shoulder. Telling you that you are gorgeous and calling you nicknames. Showing you a heart with his hands and so much more.

If you let him he would love to hug you every now and then. Tho his hugs get longer and longer the more you let him closer to you.

Speaking of which, he'll let you see his face and know more about his past only after a longer time.

But even then, when he took off his mask and expected a disgusted look or a mean comment, you just smiled at him and reassured that he is beautiful inside and out. Can you be any more charming? He just fall head over heals all over again.

You laugh at his jokes and think hes cool? He is wordless.

He will try to kiss you through his mask and will do it if you don't push him away. "Smooch me!"

Sometimes he stares at you with out noticing.

His room is full of stuff that you gifted to him and photos of you (where he got it? Oh don't worry about it..)

And if you happen to be a hero/etc, he will have a plush and other merch of you around.

He'll even give you a mini version of himself. To keep you safe he says.

He loves to be around you and is overly affectionate.

He squishez his eyes into a smile upon seeing you. He'll wave at you and everything.

He'll draw you silly pictures (mostly the two of you holding hands and being lovey-dovey)

He also leaves you flowers.

If you say nice things to him it'll blow his mind. By nice i mean stuff like "You are cute!" Or "You're the best!". Yeah you really think so? His heart feels like its beating stronger.

He speaks before thinking rather often. He lets his stranger thoughts out. Such thoughts like "You're so hot". He stares wide eyed at you after. Then comes the awkward laugh, just laugh with him please.

Anyways get used to it cuz he'll make your life a living hell, or maybe heaven?

He would ask you to move into an apartment with him, and he won't stop asking that question. Wouldn't it be less lonely and more fun to have a roommate?

He just can't come up with a way to confess..maybe the job will do it itself? No Yes,yes it will Wade don't worry.

[sahisan]

Can I request Scaramouche giving his AFAB partner head for the first time. But reader has always been insecure about the idea of it after a bad experience with an ex... 👉🏻👈🏻

Any AU is fine! This is super self indulgent so if do you this I appreciate you

- Someone from the Shrine discord 🫶🏻🫶🏻

★ summary: scaramouche x fem!reader. him giving you head for the first time and providing you with all the reassurance.

☆ cw: nsfw. oral (f receiving). use of 'good girl'. scara being nice. idk what to add more, the req says it all. i also hope i portrayed the idea of your req well🙌🏻. 1.144 words.

"do you still-"

"yes." scaramouche interrupts you, looking up at your blushing and hesitant face. you look at his head in between your thighs. gosh, he really does look like he literally belongs there, you think, gulping when you do.

but, nevertheless, all kinds of thoughts start forming in your head. what if he won't like it? what if you look bad down there? what if it-

"scara, are you really sure-"

"i am, [name]. i know that tone, stop overthinking." scaramouche sighs when he realizes what exactly you're thinking about. "you look gorgeous. stunning. jaw-dropping. breathtaking. do you see what i'm trying to get at?" he smiles at you, seeing how his words make you blush. he'll repeat that over and over for you if that means seeing you like this again - hand hovering over your cheeks and looking away.

"stop thinking about everything bad. i assure you it'll be fine." he says, and you give him a look while biting your lower lip. you catch yourself that you're thinking again, and you exhale deeply. "and i surely won't be disgusted. if i offered you this - it already means i'm not in any way disgusted."

"do you trust me?" he asks softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the milky skin of your hips, occasionally finding its way under the waistband of your lacy panties. god, he can't help but get hard while looking at them - he'd eat you out anyway, but with these undergarments he just needs to do it. and he surely needs to ask you to wear them more often...

"i.. do." you stammer quietly, and from his position below he sees just how your chest rises and falls, even hears your heartbeat thumping loudly in your rib cage. "i do." you repeat, this time sounding like you mean it - and you do.

"good." scaramouche whispers and lets his face get closer to your - yet - closed core. his eyes roam around your curves, and his hands spread your thighs a bit more. he looks at the lacy panties again, and his eyes' pupils basically dilate in hearts.

"mmm, wearing these just for me? i'm honored." he chuckles, and licks his lips. your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at this small gesture, and you feel yourself getting wetter by each passing second. "so sad i'll have to take them off tonight."

you missed the moment when he already discarded your underwear, making a lick along your folds, and you swear the sensation basically has you almost moaning out loud, before you bite your lip and breathe out slowly.

scaramouche, upon sensing your reactions, reluctantly, but withdraws his mouth from your cunt, smirking and taking your hand, guiding it to hold his indigo locks. you look down at him in confusion.

"i know how not vocal you are," he starts, eyes gazing up at you, full of understanding and love. "so just pull my hair whenever it feels too good, mhm?"

your eyes slightly widen at his idea. this is brilliant for you.

your fingers tangle in his hair, running through it for a few seconds before nodding slightly and giving him a small smile, still feeling your cheeks burning from all the embarrassed - it's basically written on your face how shy you feel. but you can't deny you want this.

"alright then... let me get back to my dish."

"scar- ah!.."

you moan and your fingers instinctively tug on his hair, and scaramouche nearly smirks at how easily it is to get you so turned on. he starts licking along your pussy, starting from your hole and up to your clit, then giving it a light kiss before his lips seal around it and his tongue makes swirling motions. he can't deny that you taste so good he wants to be in-between your legs 24/7. he'd never refuse such an offer - how could he?

it's not long before you whine something incoherent about how good it feels, and he just can't not notice that little babbling of yours.

"feeling good, aren't you?" he mumbles, lips grazing the sensitive flesh, almost soaked in your slick. his voice vibrates onto your cunt, sending small, vibrating sensations as you push his face more and more into your pussy, thighs instinctively closing around his head as he continues his ministrations.

"ah-ah-ah, no, keep them open..." scara says, hands coming to grab your thighs one more time and spread them. "be a good girl for me and keep your legs spread."

you whimper, head throwing back as a breathy moan leaves your throat as his tongue starts moving already inside your hole. you can't even begin to describe how good it feels, you couldn't even if you wanted to - it feels so great your thoughts can't properly form in your mind.

you, tugging on his hair again and again, and a few more times through another few minutes is enough for scaramouche to understand that he's doing everything in the most perfect way possible. the way you moan, arch your back and let your fingers pull on his locks every ten or so seconds is dazing for him that he just can't help but let his lips seal around your swollen clit once more to make you let out another high-pitched whine.

"you taste so good..." he mutters just barely moving his mouth away from your cunt, sending another vave of small vibrations straight to your core.

"s-scara- o-oh, god.. i'm-" you can't even form a proper sentence, only pushing his face more and more into your cunt, on the verge of tearing down from how good he makes you feel. "a-almost- there... please, scara, g'nna-"

scaramouche, realizing what you're getting to when you start bucking you hips into his mouth a little too much, hums a long "mmhm" into your pussy, making vibrating sensations pulse within you once more, and that is when you fall apart, your orgasm crashing down onto you.

scara helps you to go through the aftermath of it, bot moving his lips and tongue away for a moment as he continues to - now more slowly, to not overstimulate you - suck and lap on your swelled clit as he holds your hips so you won't back away. he finally pulls back after you start to slowly pant, and licks his lips, admiring once again how good you taste in his mind.

"t-this was... so good..." you manage to mumble after taking a few more deep breaths, calming yourself down after such intense release. you try to close your thighs together again, thinking that you're both done.

scaramouche chuckles and doesn't let you do so, holding the skin of your thighs and spreading them wide open again. he notices you looking down at him in confusion and raises an eyebrow. "what? you thought we were done?"

[starringthesturniolos]

surprise- sturniolo triplets

summary- you've always wanted a cat and matt, chris, and nick come make your dream a reality.

contains- platonic relationships only<3 its just a cute little drabble fr.

------------------------------------------------------------

"she is going to flip the fuck out when she sees him." chris looks back at the little surprise him, matt, and nick got for you while rubbing his hands in anticipation. now that the car is parked matt looks back as well, and his eyes light up for the second time today. "Awww, he is sooo cute. such a handsome man." he coos making both chris and him chuckle. "I don't know...he looks like he'd bite the shit out of me." nick adds right after, making the two in the front seat burst out in laughter. "of course you think that nick" chris says. after they both calm down a little, nick shifts his attention to the camera at the front of the car.

"OKAY so if you guys watch our videos, you know Y/n and you also know how much she talks about wanting a cat. we figured it would be so fun if we just bought her one and got her reaction on camera. I, for one, am so so excited to see how happy she's going to be." he looks out the window at your front yard and sighs happily. "Y/n is so sweet, I love her." he says almost tearfully.

"here he goes, getting all emotional and shit" chris adds giggling at nicks nonsense.

after talking a little bit more about the story about getting the cat, they all walk out to go up to your front door. nick has a key, so there was no need to knock. they just walked right in to your tiny apartment. matt trails behind nick and chris as they make a beeline for your room. "she's probably still sleeping, im kinda scared to wake her up." nicks says fear creeping into his voice. you were one of the sweetest people they have ever met, but you are a whole other person when you first wake up. not only are you grumpy, but your also pissed with the person who interrupted your sleep. one time, nick went to wake you up from a nap to see if you wanted to go to top golf and you ended up shooing him out your room with a broom. lets just say, you didn't go to top golf and nick did not go into your room for about a week after that. chris and matt shudder at the memory, but chris is quick to reassure nick. "nah it'll be okay, she won't be annoyed we woke her up for long. I'll go in first. matt stay outside the door for a little until we call you in. " okay" matt says barely paying attention and just staring at the cuteness that is your kitten.

chris opens your door to find you sleeping. tissues surround the floor next to your bed, and you stir upon hearing someone opening your door. you sit up straight and sigh when you see him. "chris, what the hell are you doing here this early."

"we just wanted to come see you, feels like we haven't seen you in sooo long." he says with way more energy than you felt at the moment. "I would give you a hug, but you look like shit" he chuckles. your eyes were bloodshot red, your hair a mess, and your nose bright red from blowing it all night. even so, you shoot him a glare but your eyes soften when you see his smile. chris always reminds you of a kid in a candy store, and his bubbly attitude is contagious.

"yeah well, im hoping its allergies." you say smiling back at him before nick walks in.

"okay girl, you don't have allergies. lets be real, your sick." nick points at you. "sickie sickie doesn't get any kissy kissies." he says in a strange high pitch voice. matt has to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing too loud and revealing his hiding spot. chris on the other hand laughs while cringing openly. "dude, never say that shit again, that was really bad." you laugh along before going into a coughing fit. both boys look at each other and then look at you with concern. "Jesus" nick says and chris hands the camera to him. chris approaches your bed and softly sits next to you. he moves the hair out of your face and then places his hand on your forehead. "oh you are burning up, hun. we'll make this quick."

"make what quick? and where is matt?" you question just as he walks into the room your surprise in hand. he took him out the carrier so you could hold him immediately.

"SUPRISE" he yells. you wince a little at how loud he was but quickly recover when you see the kitten he's holding. sick and all, you rush to get out of your bed to go see him. your body is fatigued from being sick for two days so when you get up, you stumble. good thing nick is there to catch you.

"careful there girl" he laughs nervously while grabbing your arm to walk you to matt. you pay him no mind, completely focused on the bundle of cuteness in matts arm.

"AWWW matt, he's so cute!!! whose is it?" you say while picking it up and cuddling the kitten into your chest. nick steps back a little to get both you and matt in the frame.

"its yours y/n" matt says softly and you freeze.

"its mine?" you say tears of joy filling your eyes.

"of course it is y/n, we got him for you because we love you" chris adds smiling at your heartfelt reaction.

"thank you guys" you say as tears stream down your cheeks. even though your sick all three of them came to hug you, touched by your gratitude. you lean your head into matts shoulder and sigh looking down at your new pet in your arms.

"sooo what's his name gonna be?" chris inquires as you all break away from the group hug. you pause to think for a minute, and then your face lights up.

"angel" you say dreamily.

"angel" nick repeats chuckling for no reason at all.

"angel." matt repeats the name as well. "its perfect sweetheart." he sends you a soft smile. you look around at the three boys, grateful to have the most amazing best friends in the world.

@bbernard-03

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE FATGUM HEADCANONS

Have you SEEN how RIPPED this guy can be? One teensy little slip up, he will not hesitate to take severe and drastic measures for making you behave. Don't get fooled by his looks, and like people say, don't judge a book by its cover. Despite his innocent and harmless friendly side towards you, if you drive him over the edge, or if he's interacting with his rival, he WILL reveal his scary dark side 

This guy is delusional and possessive as a yandere. He has the image of you both happily married and you having his kids in his head and thinks you both were DESTINED to be with each other. Everytime you praise him for something or compliment him, it's just going to add up to MORE of his deluded fantasies 

He's also going to be very overprotective of you since he views you as a tiny defenseless kitten that needs to be protected. He won't do anything that'll make you uncomfortable, in fact, he is very well aware that his feelings for you weren't normal at all, but, he'll still kidnap you. He'll give you as much time as you want to adjust to your new lifestyle since he understands you'll be frightened and scared 

He won't force himself upon you but sometimes, once in a while, he WILL demand cuddles from you. That's IT. And maybe some light forehead kisses. Nothing more, nothing less, PERIODT. He won't keep you tied up and all that. He'll just place a quirk cancelling cuff on your ankle and he'll let you roam around the house whenever you want 

He's the 'I'm sadistic with others and not with you' type of yandere. At least, that's what I think. With you, he'll behave like an obsessed love-struck puppy that'll look like a KICKED puppy when you don't return his affections but with the others, he'll be the living entity of HELL himself and frankly, this man is scary when he's angry

He'll take his time torturing his rivals and his enemies. He just wants you to be safe and feel protected by him. And of course, like every other yandere, he's afraid of losing you and someone trying to steal you away 

Speaking of him cuddling you, you're so tiny compared to him that his entire hand almost covers your whole stomach as he clutches you to his chest in a bone crushing embrace. But, don't worry, he'll give you space to breathe. But you still can't help get the feeling of him snapping your neck in half like a twig if you do something wrong though he promised he won't lay even a finger on you. This guy drinks his respect women juice and even DROWNS in it. He's a very gentlemanly guy

If you act up, his face will quickly darken, but he'll just hold your wrists to his chest till he gets you to stop wriggling and behaving badly and THEN, he'll smother you in MORE affection because he feels the reason you're acting up was because he wasn't giving you enough attention

A request, don't talk about other people too frequently while you're with him unless you want hear about their 'accidental' deaths the next day on the news channel. He's the type of yandere who DESPISES and HATES it when you speak about other people and when you think of them. Why can't you just focus only on HIM? Those attention seeking rascals don't deserve to even LOOK at you. So. he'll just his connections and his influence as a pro hero and hire some people to kill that person to make it look like an accident 

Will never insult you. He'll just scold you gently like some naughty toddler. Overall, he's not that bad of a yandere to you but trust me, you don't want to see his dark side.....

''My sweet little dumpling, I wonder how we'll look together when we have a family of our own. It'll be splendid won't it?''

[arduouslove]

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn 06

genres: hybrid, romance, found family, slow burn(ish) series rating: mature (mentions of/references to death and abuse. eventual smut) chapter warnings (may contain spoilers): mentions of death. accusations of drugging/roofie-ing. descriptions of injury to the face. the reader character cooks meat; if you don't eat meat, please think of it as them just cooking it for other people. relationship(s): ot7 x female reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

The floor is cold when you wake up on it, though not as cold as it could be, so you must've been sleeping on the floor for at least a couple hours. As you sit up, you try to get on your knees, but find your legs tangled up in half of a throw blanket. You grumble, touching one hand to the side of your head, where you had to have laid directly on the floor rather than the throw pillow you can see pushed under the coffee table. Okay, you're definitely not telling Hoseok your head kind of hurts. He's already enough of a worrywart. Speaking of...

Looking up at the couch, you see Hoseok's sleeping face smushed against the cushion, his hair ruffled all over and his mouth slightly open. Upon closer inspection, a small wet spot of drool has grown on the couch cushion directly under his mouth. You grimace at that but quickly shake the split second of disgust away. It's just saliva; it'll wash out just fine.

You untangle yourself from the blanket, and when you stand up, you drape it over Hoseok's sleeping form as quietly as you can. Yawning, you head to the kitchen, first filling your kettle and turning it on, then moving to the other side of the counter and unplugging your phone from the wall. As the screen flicks on, you see a missed call from Lee Minhyuk from only a few minutes ago, and a text from him that followed soon after.

It seems I forgot to leave one last thing to you. I found it in our storage this morning. I'll be in my office all day if you'd like to come and pick it up. Otherwise, please let me know by phone call.

As professional as always, this guy. Glancing over at the microwave, you take note that it's only 8:56AM, which isn't that early for someone like him, but still. Lee Minhyuk is punctual, you'll give him that. Well, you suppose if you head out soon, you could get back before ten, depending on what it is Minhyuk forgot to give you. Some paperwork, maybe. He did say before that Mr. Jung had liquidated everything he owned other than the motel... You wonder what it could be.

Not wanting to wake your two house guests up, you stop the kettle before it can beep to signal that it's boiled and pour the hot water over a tea bag in a to-go mug to let it steep while you get changed. You sneak on tip-toes back to your room, and you move your hand as deftly as possible on your bedroom doorknob, focusing on your feet as you step in and close the door behind you. Bee-lining to your dresser, you tug off your pyjamas and pull on some fresh clothes as quietly as you can.

But when you turn around, Jimin is sitting up in your bed and looking at you with a frown.

"Oh my gosh!" You jump and pat a hand over your heart, taking a sharp breath in at the sudden sight of him. He barely reacts, just raising one of his eyebrows at you, his bottom half still snug under the comforter. "How long were you just sitting there?"

Eyes still half closed, Jimin says, "Long enough."

"Oh. Well..." Embarrassment trickles along your veins knowing he watched you trying to quietly sneak in. He looks too tired and uninterested to care about the fact that you changed right in front of him, though. There goes your confidence in your own sex appeal. "...Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine." His words come out short and curt, and you can't quite pinpoint why, but you get a weird feeling as you try not to narrow your eyes. He flips the covers off himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, using his hands at his sides to push himself off and stand. His eyes dart around your room. "Where are my clothes?"

You blink. "Oh. They're in a hamper in the bathroom. I was planning on putting them through the wash and then making something to eat." Of course, stopping by Lee Minhyuk's office threw a tiny wrench in those plans, but still, you weren't expecting this from Jimin as soon as he woke up. Whatever this is.

Just as he tries to exit your bedroom, you move to stand between him and the door, your hand held up. Jimin stops himself before either of you touch, and he frowns slightly when you go, "Whoa, hold on. What's the hurry?"

"I have to go back."

"Go back?" you echo, confusion tinged in your voice, but Jimin doesn't bother. He gently puts a hand on your wrist and moves you out of the way, which you let him do all too easily in your stupor. Go back? To the streets? Blinking and shaking yourself out of it, you turn to follow him into the bathroom, where you watch him find his dirty clothes at the top of the pile in the hamper. "What do you mean?"

Jimin doesn't look at you as he focuses on unbuttoning his pyjama top. "She's looking for me."

Sputtering, you completely miss the fact that Jimin is taking off his clothes right in front of you. "Rayoung?"

Even though he doesn't answer you, the determined look in his eyes tells you you're right. He slips on his old clothes and pushes past you again.

"She is?" You struggle to follow both him and his words, stepping into the main living space after him. "How do you know--"

Jimin whips around, and you almost bump into him, but your feet screech to a halt directly in front of him. He glares at you with those piercing brown eyes. "She loves me," he says.

Your mouth opens and closes like those dogs in kids movies they'd feed peanut butter to so it'd look like they were talking. You can't say what you think, no, that would be too harsh. You can't just say outright that someone who loves him wouldn't leave him to live miserably like he did. But, what can you say? You don't want him to go back to where he was, even if what he thinks of Rayoung is true... not when you have something within likeness of a solution so close to falling in your grasp. You were planning on going to the motel this evening with Hoseok -- and, ideally, Jimin -- to scope out the building better and finally figure out what the hell you're doing.

"Jimin..." You hold yourself back from reaching out to him, knowing that your touch might be the last thing he wants. "At least eat something..."

"I'm not hungry," he tells you, and with the conviction he puts behind the words, you almost believe him.

"C'mon, at least a bite--"

"No!"

Jimin's sudden volume startles you, and your eyes go wide as he pushes both hands against you, causing you both to stumble back a step. You stare at your feet for half a second before looking back up at him, a breath of a laugh tainted with disbelief puffing past your lips. "What--"

"Don't come any closer!" He wraps his arms around his chest and scrunches his eyes shut. "I don't know what was in that fucking tea, but you can't keep me here." His back turns to you. "Rayoung was right. I can't trust anyone."

Completely thrown off, you straighten up slowly, his words settling in your brain. "...Excuse me?"

Jimin says no more, simply standing there in the foyer with his back turned, shielding himself from... you.

Roused from his deep slumber, Hoseok appears next to you. His hair is tousled and pressed flat against the side of his head that he slept on, but the sight isn't as endearing as it would be if you weren't so baffled by what Jimin just said. Taking one step in front of you, Hoseok puts a hand on your arm before you've even realized you went to get closer to Jimin, one hand up and pointed at him.

"You--" Hoseok's firm grip on your arm stops you from getting far, and as he pulls you partway behind him and your shoulder bumps into his back, you lower your voice to a whisper. "You think I drugged you?"

With his head down low, Jimin still refuses to respond. His entire body trembles, fear coursing through him like rapids under his skin. Even you can see it.

But something fogs over your rationality.

"Are you serious right now? I didn't-- I would never--" You try to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in your throat and only serves to fuel this ugly feeling inside your chest. "You're delusional."

Hoseok hushes out your name, a warning of sorts, or maybe something closer to a plea. You don't hear it past the ringing in your ears.

"And it's not because of anything in my fucking tea," you continue. "No, you know why you're delusional?"

Hesitantly, Jimin turns around half-way, his frowning profile causing that awful roiling in you to flare up.

"Because even though you've been living on the streets for months, starved enough to root through restaurant trash bins, abandoned by the very person who supposedly loves you--" Something flashes across Jimin's eyes, but you have no grasp of what it is. "--you still think she's coming back for you."

No one says anything for a second -- too long, and Hoseok's hand slides down your arm and gently wraps around your wrist. You tug it out of his grasp with a sharp inhale. "So let's just go," you say, walking to where you keep your car keys. The jingle-jangle as you pick up your keys is the only sound in the apartment aside from your footsteps. "I'll take you right now. Near Antonio's, right? She left you around there and that's where you think she'll go looking for you?"

Hoseok softly calls your name again, but you don't hear him. Jimin only follows you with angry eyes.

"I was on my way out anyway," you continue. With your hand already on the doorknob, you slip on your shoes. "So yeah, I have no problem with dropping you off on your own with nowhere to go." You pull the door towards you and step out, eyes still on your feet. "Where you have no sure way of getting food."

Jimin doesn't look at you as he puts on his shoes.

"Where Hybrid Services already know your face--"

Your words choke to a stop when you look down the hall towards the elevators. That damned fluorescent yellow armband you had no business caring about a couple days ago -- two of them -- appear in your sight just a few metres away, directly in front of the apartment-next-door's open entrance, where your neighbour to the right, Anne-Marie, is talking to the two officers.

Without uttering another sound, you push Jimin back inside your apartment as quickly and overtly as you can. Unfortunately, this means you achieve that by shoving your hand in Jimin's face, but your head isn't exactly in the right place to think about hiding-someone-away etiquette.

"Wha--?! Stop--!"

"Shh!" You make frantic eye contact with Hoseok while Jimin glares daggers at you. At this point, you know you can't just go back inside yourself; both the officers and your neighbour have probably seen you already. You keep your voice as quiet as you can, hoping the boys can still hear you with their weird hybrid powers. "Both of you, not a peep. Got it?"

You don't wait for either of them to answer before you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut in their faces. As soon as you look back down the hall, both officers, a man and a woman, and Anne-Marie are looking at you.

"Good morning," you greet with a slight bow, completely unsure of what to do or say next.

Would asking some sort of question be suspicious? Or would trying to walk by and ignoring them be even worse?

Either way, you have to get to the elevator...

Before you have to decide, (or maybe after you already should've, considering the awkward silence,) Anne-Marie waves you over with a slight frown. "Leaving so early today?"

"Ah..." You nod at her with a strained smile as you walk up to her and the officers, making sure to smile and nod at them too in that weird, you're not really part of this conversation but you're standing here so I'll try to include you sort of way. "Yes, I have some errands to run this morning."

Anne-Marie doesn't question you, thank goodness, and just gestures towards the officers. "Well you should hear them out before you go," she says. "Apparently there's a feral hybrid on the loose."

"Feral hybrid?"

You don't have to fake the initial look of concern that appears on your face, but the way you deepen your frown at the flyer one of the officers hands you is definitely for show.

"Yes," he confirms, face stiff and almost bored from repeating the words so many times to all the residents in the building already. "He ran away from a hybrid clinic in the city and was last spotted in this neighbourhood."

Anne-Marie nods along as he speaks and shakes her head when he points out the area the hybrid was spotted last night on a small map included in the flyer. "So close to home..." she mutters, which he ignores.

Continuing after him, the female officer speaks up. "We're doing rounds to make sure everyone living in the area is aware of the risks of a feral hybrid, as well as inform everyone of the proper procedure."

"Which is...?"

"Do not approach," the man tells you as your eyes finally focus in on the two pictures of the feral hybrid, one from the front and another of his profile. In both photos, he's smiling, eyes bright. "It's dangerous for regular citizens to attempt to capture feral hybrids. Leave it to the professionals and call Hybrid Services upon encounter."

He doesn't look so dangerous.

His smile is wide and almost boyish, like someone told him he was posing for a photo op rather than the strange hybrid-version of a mug shot it actually is. He holds up his name placard like it's an award he's proud of. "V," it reads, then a bunch of numbers underneath. His animal ears are perked straight up, and you can't tell what kind of ears they are in the grainy black-and-white pictures, not to mention how small they look compared to Hoseok's. Still, the deepness of his smile, the happiness in his eyes and the scrunch of his nose -- you're not scared at all.

You don't say any of that, though.

"I'll keep an eye out, thank you," you say with a polite smile. "What kind of hybrid is he?"

The two share a look, the female officer grimacing before she turns back to you. "That's unfortunately classified information."

"What? Why? Wouldn't it help us be safer and more prepared if we know what he looks like?" You turn to make eye contact with Anne-Marie, who drinks in your words and nods with a slight frown towards the officers, a finger propped concernedly on her chin.

The man sighs. "As much as I agree with you, these pictures are the only images any of us have to go off of. Even Hybrid Services hasn't been informed of his sub-species. It's private information belonging to the clinic, and legally, we don't need to have it to apprehend the hybrid."

"I see..."

After thanking them again and giving your due goodbyes, you do your best not to turn around and watch the officers as you wait for the elevator. You step into the elevator, and as your finger finds the button for the ground floor, you peak down the hall and let out a breath of relief. The officers seem to have skipped your door because you already spoke to them.

It would probably be suspicious to re-enter your apartment so soon while they're still patrolling your floor, you think. The last thing you need right now is Hybrid Services finding a reason to look into you.

And, maybe, you need a minute to yourself. Just to breathe.

You hadn't meant to snap at Jimin like that, it just... So much doesn't make sense to you. You've barely had Hoseok around for a few days, but you feel as though your friendship is something already. Maybe not something to be proud of, exactly, but it's something.

Jimin... you've known him for even less time, if you could even call that "knowing" him at all. And yet, you felt this strange surge of protectiveness over him.

You really hope that isn't part of the saviour thing Hoseok spoke of before...

Sighing into the empty elevator, you try not to think about the fact that it probably is, and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Your car keys are still in your hand, the shape imprinted into your palm from how hard your nerves had made you grip them between your fingers while you talked to the officers.

You take the coward's route and run away.

Lee Minhyuk's office building isn't that far in terms of distance, but the traffic around it is pure hell. It gives you much too much time alone with only your thoughts. You try to drown them out with whatever is on the radio, but even that can't seem to calm the disquiet within you. The more you think about the things you said, the more regret builds in your gut. What right did you have to say those things to Jimin? Sure, you think it's a fool's dream to believe this Rayoung girl is out there searching for him, but to purposefully shut him down like that? To crush that dream just because you got offended by emotions he was completely valid in feeling? Just because he's been scarred by humans before and you happen to be one? It's not his fault that he thought you might've drugged him, it's a product of--

"Ah, you're here."

Blinking, you realize that your body went on autopilot and walked you up to Lee Minhyuk's office without you knowing, and you watch his back as he goes to sit at his desk.

"Yeah I... got your text," you say dazedly, unsure of anything else you could possibly say in the moment.

"Well, it's good that you came. I wouldn't want you to go without this." Minhyuk holds his hand out, and you step closer to his desk to let him drop whatever the thing he forgot is in your awaiting palm.

A single key stares up at you, attached by a small ring to a simple metal tag.

Silver Meadows Columbarium, it reads.

"Oh."

Moving the key to your fingers, you flip over the tag and read lot C 258 on the back. You'd never heard of Silver Meadows Columbarium before. Never needed to...

"I believe Mr Jung set up his..." Minhyuk pauses as he mulls over his word choice. "...accommodations before he passed."

You can't help but ask, "Just him? No family, or...?"

Your words trail off, both of you knowing that Mr Jung left you as his sole beneficiary. If he had family, he didn't leave them anything. Not even the location of his remains.

Minhyuk shakes his head, and you frown.

"He prepared for his own death all by himself?"

Your concern is met with a small, understanding smile on Minhyuk's face. "Well, he may have done the paperwork himself, but he wasn't alone. He had you."

"But I--" You hardly knew Mr Jung.

"He brought you up more than once," Minhyuk says, making you close your mouth and blink stupidly at him. At your silence, he continues. "He came to my office a few times to sign the papers and whatnot, and he mentioned you every time. Always said you're the only one who laughs at his jokes."

"They're funny!"

Your own response jars you a bit. The last time you said that, you thought Mr Jung was alive.

Minhyuk only smiles again, softly. "He was happy you thought so."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but I it wasn't hard to tell. Don't get too caught up in the fact that Jung didn't have blood relatives he wanted to include in his will. Evidently--" He gestures to you. "--he had a family of sorts."

Except that you weren't it. You couldn't be, right?

A seedling plants itself in the forefront of your mind.

A seedling named Hoseok.

That's must be it -- Mr Jung wanted to leave his estate to Hoseok, but couldn't figure out how to, legally. Hybrids probably can't even have bank accounts, much less accept inheritance, which is why Mr Jung defaulted to you. He trusted you to help Hoseok start up Heaven's Door as the legal owner of the land it's built on.

In his letter, he'd said it's that it's you, whatever that means.

You look down at the key in your hand, taking a deep breath in. It might not be the key to Heaven's Door Motel, but you clutch it in your fingers, and as you step out of Lee Minhyuk's office, you make a silent promise to Mr Jung.

You'll get Heaven's Door up and running.

And you'll do a damn good job of it too.

=

When you return to your apartment, you have a brown paper bag of fresh pastries in your hand and a heavy something in your chest. You tried to figure out what you want to say to the two hybrids in your place on your way home, but it's hard. You feel like all you keep doing is messing up. Now, you even ran off without a word after seeing the Hybrid Services officers, which had to have freaked Hoseok out.

You grimace as you twist the doorknob. Less than an hour ago, you'd resolved yourself to running Heaven's Door with everything you've got, but are you really the right person for the job?

When you enter, you go to call out for Hoseok, but you freeze with your mouth partially open. The guys stand ramrod straight in front of you, Hoseok with a slight smile and Jimin with a hesitant clench of his jaw, arms crossed. You gape at them for a couple seconds until Hoseok frowns at Jimin and jabs his elbow into his side.

"Ow! What the--"

"Don't you have something to say?" Hoseok prompts through his teeth, a harsh grit to the question.

Jimin huffs, his arms shifting in front of his chest, hands holding his own arms a little tighter. He meets your eyes. "I'm--"

"Wait." You hold up a hand to stop him, not missing the confusion that flashes across Hoseok's face. Something like panic reflects in Jimin's eyes when he sneaks a glance at Hoseok, but you don't acknowledge it. "Let's talk." With the hand still holding the paper bag, you gesture towards the couch. "Have a seat. Both of you."

Jimin doesn't move until Hoseok does, following silently while Hoseok watches you out of the corner of his eye as he sits down.

You set the pastries on the kitchen table before making your way to them, stopping in front of the couch and chewing over your thoughts. Jimin regards you with a half-frown, brows knitted in apparent distrust. You can't really blame him.

If your ears were better, you might've heard the slight gasp Hoseok let out when you dropped to your knees, bent down, and pressed your forehead to your hands, which are now flat on the floor. You bow in front of them, let out a breath, and raise your head once you gather your thoughts, putting your hands respectfully on your lap. "I'm sorry," you say. "I fucked up."

Hoseok's ears twitch, dipping, and he scoots forward on the cushion, about to say something, but you don't let him.

"Jimin, I want to apologize for this morning. I had no right to react the way I did." You look at Jimin, but you can't read his face. "It's not your fault if humans have hurt you enough to make you think we're all the same. People can be... horrible. I wish things were different, but... I want you to know that I will never intentionally hurt you--" Your eyes meet Hoseok's. "--either of you. I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to force or coerce you into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to be the kind of human you're afraid of."

Hoseok shakes his head. "I'm not afraid--"

"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," you say, wincing as you realize you've spoken over him, but when he doesn't speak up again, you continue. "I honestly feel like a walking disaster with how many times I've fucked up, and it's only been a couple days. Sometimes I speak before I think, and I really need to work on that. I'm sorry."

You don't know when you started staring into your lap, but you let out a long breath, and only after that do you slowly look up at the two hybrids. They both wear blank expressions, and it makes you want to shrink back in on yourself. "I just--"

"I lied," Jimin blurts out, and you face him, eyes slightly widening.

"...Lied? About what?"

Sighing, Jimin casts a glance at Hoseok, who nods determinedly. He fidgets with his hands, looking at them rather than meeting your eyes. "I guess, technically, Rayoung isn't looking for me right now," he mumbles. "But she will. As soon as she breaks up with her stupid tool boyfriend."

"Oh." You blink at Jimin. "Well, um... You're welcome to stay with us. Until then, I mean."

Jimin's lips form into a contemplative pout, but he says nothing.

You scratch the back of your neck. Is there a good way to approach this? "We could, um... let her know somehow? That you're with us."

You eye Hoseok, who's hopefully in the same boat for you to be saying we. He wasn't exactly Jimin's biggest fan last night, weird possessiveness over pyjama sets aside. Now, though, you see that even he can tell this Rayoung girl is bad news. Still, Jimin's ties to her seem to run deep, and you know it's nowhere near simple to tell someone a person they love isn't as great as they thought.

Jimin takes a deep breath in, his shoulders scrunching up as his body tenses and relaxes. "Can I... think about it?"

"Of course!" You perk up at the idea of him even considering your offer after the way you snapped this morning, and you point at the brown paper bag on the table. "Do you want to have breakfast while you think?"

While Jimin marks a straight line to the kitchen, Hoseok holds his hand out for you before you even move to get up. You take it, and he uses his other hand to gently grasp your elbow and lift you onto your feet. He doesn't let go right away, instead holding both your hands and whispering, "You shouldn't have gone out alone." He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. "You're still concussed."

The proximity combined with his concern for you causes heat to stir in your chest. It's uncomfortable and foreign, so you try to force it down, smiling and letting out a chuckle that screams casual. You hope. "I can hold my own. Besides, I think I'm all better; right as rain up here." You pull one of your hands out of his tender hold and curl it into a fist, knocking on your cranium like a door. Except, the impact makes your brain swish around in your skull like gargled fluoride. "Whoa-- shit."

You sway, tipping the direction you knocked your own head into. Hoseok keeps you standing, but he doesn't like it. "You just proved my point."

"Listen--"

"From now on, no going off on your own," he says, and from his tone, there's no point in a rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, and, whoa, does the room always spin when you do that? Still, even wooziness can't stopper your sarcasm. "Protective much?"

"Kind of my job description."

"I thought I was your bodyguard," you tease, and he chuckles, his seriousness evaporating with the sound.

"As if--"

"You're dumb."

You and Hoseok both turn towards the kitchen, where Jimin stands next to the table with a half eaten pastry in his mouth. Ignoring the glare he's under from Hoseok, which you don't notice, he speaks around the pastry. "Only a dumb person would go out on their own in your condition."

Even though you're pretty sure he should be on the same side as Jimin on this, Hoseok sneers at him, the slightest of growls rumbling in his throat.

Jimin holds up a hand, mockingly. "Easy, pup."

"I'm older than you, punk!"

You can't help it; you laugh. Jimin is all over the place, accusing you of atrocities one second and talking to you and Hoseok like you're long-time friends the next. The two hybrids cease their bickering at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay, okay." You take a breath to stop the giggles threatening to break past your lips. "New temporary house rule: no one should go off on their own unless they have to."

Jimin raises a brow. "No one?"

"Ideally." You nod. "Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. When the Hybrid Services officers were here before, they were telling everyone there's a feral hybrid in the area. The entire neighbourhood is going to be on alert-- I don't know how kindly they'll take to finding any unregistered or, uh, stray hybrids if they run into either of you alone."

Nodding along, Hoseok rubs his chin with his thumb. "Makes sense."

"They know what the hybrid looks like, but we don't know how much they actually care about the picture. Who knows if they'd just nab any male hybrid off the street," you say. "It's probably best to play it safe; at least while we're still in the neighbourhood."

"What do you mean, 'still in the neighbourhood'?" Jimin asks, curious.

You smack your own forehead and ignore the way Hoseok immediately brings his hands up like you're going to knock yourself over any second now. "Right, uh... We're kind of..." Bringing up a hand, you gesture between yourself and Hoseok. "...prospective business owners? Is that--? No, we're, uh...starting up a motel? But, like, for hybrids?"

Hoseok is decidedly unhelpful with explaining what Heaven's Door is meant to be, staying silent and just making a face as you botch it.

"Anyway, it might be safer if we head out there sooner rather than later if the neighbourhood is getting paranoid over stray hybrids. It's outside of the city, and Hybrid Services doesn't do patrols out there. I was thinking to move once I'd figured more shit out, but I didn't think the whole 'feral hybrid' thing would happen today, and I definitely didn't foresee meeting you." Not that anything that's happened to you in the last few days could've been foreseen, either. You smile at Jimin. "But hey, at least you were a pleasant surprise."

"Didn't I threaten to kill you?."

You shrug. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"And your guard dog attacked me."

"After you attacked her!" Hoseok argues.

Clicking his tongue, Jimin gives his head a nod. "Point taken."

"Anyhow," you continue on. "While you think about what you wanna do, I'd like you to come with us. Of course, you're free to refuse. I still have two-ish weeks of rent paid for this place, so you could stay here, but..." You share a look with Hoseok, then return your eyes to Jimin.

"...I'd be alone?" he finishes for you.

"I guess I'd just feel better if you're with us."

Jimin seems to absorb your words, but he stays silent for a few seconds. He tosses the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing quietly and brushing his hands together to get rid of the leftover crumbs. He takes a breath. "I guess I sort of owe you for the food and the bed I slept in last night... The least I can do is make you feel better."

Your cheeks make way for a beaming smile.

"Just while I think about it."

You school yourself. "Right! Right," you say, clearing your throat of any enthusiasm that might've gotten clogged in there. "Just while you're thinking about it. Nothing's set in stone."

=

Either Hoseok calls shotgun outside of your hearing range, or Jimin silently sits in the backseat of your car out of some unfounded sense of regularity. He doesn't speak a word as you drive, just watches the world pass by through the side window. You can't really see him in the rear view mirror, and most of your focus is on the road, but there are a few moments where you catch his fingers scratching at his arms before he flexes his hands and stops. You're reminded of the red, bumpy skin you saw on his arms. Now, it's covered by his shirt and jacket, both of which you convinced him to let you wash before you all left your apartment.

"I don't think this is the right way..." Hoseok says, squinting at the street signs as you drive out of the inner city.

"Yeah, uh." You'd looked up the address to Silver Meadows before you left, and it's practically on the other side of the city as Heaven's Door. "There's somewhere I wanted to go first. You know how I left this morning?"

Hoseok nods.

"Well, it wasn't just to throw a tantrum, if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought maybe you were trying to get those Hybrid Services officers to think you were going somewhere, so they'd think no one was in your apartment," Hoseok says, making your eyebrows rise on your forehead.

"Wow, you're pretty intuitive, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the backseat, but you can't see Jimin's face since he's sitting right behind you. "Were you guys able to hear that whole conversation in the hallway?"

Jimin scoffs, something sarcastic in the simple sound, while Hoseok nods again. "It's weird how even they don't know the species of the feral hybrid," he says. "Without that information, they'd go after any stray hybrid they encounter -- not that they weren't doing that already."

"But they might treat any stray like they're feral and dangerous," you finish the thought process for him, and when you meet his eyes, he sports a grim expression. You roll your shoulders back, sighing. "It's a good enough reason to stay on our toes, but hopefully we won't run into any trouble outside of my neighbourhood..."

And, hopefully, the feral hybrid doesn't get found by anyone less than civil. The cheerful face of that hybrid flashes across your mind, and you wonder about his circumstances. What makes a hybrid go feral, anyway? What made him run away from the hybrid clinic? How much of the information the officers gave you is a stretching of the truth?

"So where did you go?" Hoseok asks when you make another unfamiliar turn.

"Lee Minhyuk texted me -- he was Mr Jung's estate lawyer." You add that in to give Jimin some context, but you're not sure if he's even listening. "He forgot to give me the key for Mr Jung's niche."

Hoseok's brows furrow as he echoes you. "Niche?"

"It's what they call the individual sections in a columbarium," you explain, not too informed yourself, but you know enough. You take Hoseok's silence as him not filling the gaps quite yet. "Mr Jung's urn is being kept in one. Lot C, niche 258, at Silver Meadows Columbarium."

"Oh." Hoseok doesn't exactly slump in his seat, but you see the way his shoulders sag just the slightest. "He was cremated?"

You nod, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I hadn't thought about it much. I'd assumed his family was dealing with all the..." Breathing out a long exhale through your nose, you try to think of the right words. (And come up with nothing.) "...well, that kind of stuff. But apparently I'm the only one with the key."

"Mr Jung never talked about any family..." Hoseok mumbles.

A road sign ahead reads Silver Meadows, and you slow down to turn into the lot.

"You're not bringing flowers?"

You turn your head at Jimin's sudden question, surprised since he was quiet the whole drive. He meets your eyes.

"You're visiting a grave, and you didn't bring flowers?" he asks, arms crossed.

"Oh." You look downward. "I hadn't thought about that..."

Jimin doesn't say anything, and you've run out of words yourself. Does it make sense to go back to buy some? You think about Mr Jung, and far above wanting to go get flowers for him now, you wish you could've brought him one back then. When he could see it.

You find a parking spot and switch off the engine.

"It's okay," Hoseok says before any of you exit the car. He's not looking at you, though. "We can bring flowers next time."

You watch him step out of the car, and as he does, he pulls his collar out of his pocket and fastens it around his neck, clasping the metal ends together before he shuts the car door behind him. Before you'd left the apartment, you told him to bring it, but you forgot about it during the drive.

"Oh, right. Jimin." You twist in your seat and reach into your bag, finding the red velvet choker you'd stuffed in there earlier. You've never really worn it since someone gave it to you however long ago, and you just hastily grabbed it from your room before you all left the apartment. You hold it out for him. "Wear this for now. It's not technically a collar, but... no one will be looking too closely. I hope."

Jimin frowns, but he takes the choker. "Can't I just stay in the car?"

You don't want to pressure him, but you can't help the grimace that crosses your face. "I feel safer together..."

"Fine," he huffs, bringing his hands up to fasten the choker. "You're lucky this is cute."

By the time you both catch up to Hoseok, he's already found the directions to lot C. He walks silently, and when he finds niche 258, you and Jimin hang a bit back, giving him a moment.

This section of the columbarium is indoors, and the walls and niches seem to be white marble, or made to look like white marble. Whichever it is, it feels a bit... cold.

Mr Jung's niche is empty, save for the black urn inside. Jimin was probably right -- some flowers would at least bring some life to the space.

Hoseok stands in front of the niche, which is embedded in the wall at around the height of his chest. His arms hang limp at his sides. You step up beside him, and you take his hand, gently, bringing it up so you can push the key into his palm.

"I think he meant to give this to you." And everything else, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. That's a lot to put on someone all at once.

You would know.

Hoseok holds his hand in front of him, staring at the key. He looks up at you and meets your eyes with his watery ones. "You think so?"

"Of course I do." You put a hand on Hoseok's shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his coat. "You said Mr Jung never talked about any family, right? That's because you were his family."

Sniffling, Hoseok bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he breaks eye contact and returns to looking at Mr Jung's niche. "I... I wish he wasn't this far away. He made it so much harder to visit."

"Hey..." Gently, you use your hand on his shoulder to turn Hoseok toward you, then put both your hands on his arms and give him a reassuring squeeze. A tear threatens to roll down his cheek, but you reach up at thumb it away. "I know you probably knew Mr Jung better than I did, but... something in me thinks he'd want to say..." You turn your head to look at the niche, smile, and shake your head. "He's not in there." Bringing a hand up, you softly poke the pad of your pointer finger between Hoseok's eyebrows. "He's in here." You move to his chest and poke at where his heart should be. "And here." Finally, you take both his hands, a bit awkward with the one still holding the key, and hold them between you. "And that's what matters, right?"

Hoseok nods, but his face crumples up, and he tucks it into your neck. You wrap your arms around him just as his embrace you tight. Over his shoulder, you glance at Jimin, who quickly looks away, but you know he was watching. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, suddenly very interested in his worn out shoes.

"But we can still visit, right?" Hoseok mumbles into your skin, bringing your attention back to him.

"Of course. And next time, we'll bring flowers."

=

As you slide into one of the parking spots in front of Heaven's Door, it occurs to you that this is the first time you're seeing it in the daylight. All of its mediocre glory. The outer walls are a faded yellow, with supporting pillars and railings on the second floor landing which were once white. The doors to the individual rooms are a nice dark green that matches the roofing, but you have to admit they've seen better days. Still, you can feel the potential the old building blooms in your chest.

"Not too bad, hey?" you say to Jimin, who's leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats to peer out the windshield at the place.

He sniffs. "It's no Plaza Hotel."

"You've been?"

"No, I've seen Home Alone 2."

Chuckling, you pull your car key out of the ignition and exit the car. You put your hands on your hips, inhaling a big, exaggerated breath as you take in the motel. Hoseok walks over and stands next to you, arms crossed.

"Well," you say. "It might be a bit of a fixer-upper, but that's nothing a couple of fixer-uppers like us can't handle, right?" You bump your shoulder into Hoseok, who smiles at you and bumps back with his hip. You stumble a bit, but Jimin's hand on your back stops you from swaying too hard. When you take your eyes off your feet, he meets your eyes with a plain expression.

"You guys are disgustingly optimistic."

A hand on his shoulder, you grin. "You just named one of my best traits!"

=

The move into Heaven's Door is by no means smooth, but you can't say it's not something you expected.

The first thing you notice is the broken window in the convenience store under the motel lobby, which you'd missed that first night in the dark. Hoseok sheepishly admits that he'd had to break in to eat the snack food inside. You don't push it -- that void of time between losing Mr Jung and meeting you isn't a topic you think is worth diving into if it's going to bring Hoseok back to that time. The window won't be cheap, but if you don't put a custom decal on it like the shattered one on the ground, it might not be as expensive.

Secondly, Hoseok leads you and Jimin to the master room you remember Mr Jung mentioning in his letter, and you realize you'd only seen the motel from one side. Behind the lobby, which has a lot of that same forest green as the doors outside, Hoseok shows you the half of the building you had no idea about before. An entire branch extends behind the lobby, about the same length as the front, but instead of the entrances to each room facing outside like the ones you saw before, there are doors mirroring each other on both sides of a hallway. Immediately to the right is the master room, but at the end of the hallway seems to be a common area with couches and coffee tables, and two walls lined with a counter and cabinets. Hoseok tells you it's the same downstairs, except the end of the hall is a kitchen and dining area. It reminds you of a college dorm.

If anyone stayed in the rooms you saw out front, you don't think they'd even notice this half of the building.

The master room is smaller than your apartment, but it has its own half-kitchen and en suite bathroom with a pretty nice shower. Hoseok explains to you that most of Mr Jung's time and focus went into building and upgrading the interior of Heaven's Door, which is why it has its less than shiny exterior.

You can tell Hoseok was staying in the master room up until you... kidnapped(?) him.

"This is probably the nicest room in the motel, huh?" Jimin posits, walking inside with his hands in his pants pockets. He's wearing the clothes he met you in, now washed but no less worn down.

You nod. "Probably. We're a bit far from the city, so it would make sense for the owner to just live here."

"Dibs." Jimin flops down face first into the bed.

Hoseok crosses his arms. "Yah."

As you fail to hide your laughter behind your hand, Jimin squirms in the bed, twisting himself so he lies on his back. He stretches his arms and legs out like a sea star. "Smells too much like dog here, though."

While Hoseok sneers, you say, "Probably because this is Hoseok's room. You and I can take the rooms next door and across the hall."

"Why would I wanna be next door to you?" Jimin closes his eyes and interlocks is fingers behind his head, fully relaxing into the bed.

You let out an affronted scoff. Your hand goes up to your chest, right over your heart even though Jimin can't see it. "Um, my amazing company and charming personality?"

"Pass."

As you and Jimin go through this back-and-forth, you miss the way Hoseok's face fell when you said you'd be in a different room. His disheartened expression goes unnoticed, and when you stand up, proclaiming there's a lot of work to be done, he smiles at you with all the sunshine he can muster.

You're none the wiser.

=

Aside from the horrors (the mere idea of business management, the building maintenance, the absolute atrocity that is dealing with plumbing, the phone calls, etc, etc,) at least it's fun to print keys. Hoseok apparently never figured the system out because Mr Jung took care of getting it installed, but half an hour on the computer, and you manage to print a key for both yourself and Jimin. He chooses the room across from the master, while you're right next to it.

Hoseok insists on him and Jimin carrying all the food you'd brought inside, but to appease your need to take part, he lets you carry one item for each trip from your car to the common kitchen area. (You find this a little patronizing, but it is admittedly nice to be doted on by them both, even if Jimin's still pretending he doesn't care.)

((He takes a bag you were reaching for, despite already having both his hands full.))

Much of your things are still back at your apartment, but you have time to bring them over. The first day is mostly about getting Hoseok and Jimin out of dodge -- you can worry about your own problems later. You spend the afternoon sitting in the lobby, poring over the paperwork left there and googling motel business 4 dummies like your life depends on it. Hoseok, who'd been cleaning up his room and taking care of the broken glass outside (and inside, unfortunately) the convenience store, forces you to take a break in the form of helping him make dinner.

During dinner, unprompted, Jimin tells you he's still thinking.

It hasn't slipped by you, of course, that Jimin's stay with you is conditional and, lest you hope otherwise, temporary.

But when he says that, staring into his food rather than looking at you, a tiny smile makes it's way onto your face,

"Take all the time you need."

=

On the third night, you wake up to soft knocks on your door. You have no expectations because your brain is in the process of trying to dissect the dream you'd just been ripped out of, but seeing Hoseok on the other side of your door still isn't something you were prepared for. He's wearing the new, new pyjamas you'd bought for him in a sparse shopping trip you'd all gone on the second day, despite him saying he didn't care that much about Jimin wearing the other ones.

You go to say his name, but he just brings a finger up to his lips in a silent shush, and with his other hand, he gently takes your hand and leads you down the hall into the master room.

Nothing in your body wants to fight it, so you let him bring you right up to the bed. He practically pushes you onto it, but the way he pulls the warm comforter over you defies any ill intent. When he settles in on the other side of the bed, his breath puffs against your cheek. He hasn't really scented you since the day you met Jimin; you've been near each other almost constantly since, so there was really no reason to.

You remember him telling you it's about separation, but also not. He never did tell you more about it.

In your sleep-ridden haze, you shift to your side. Hoseok is on his side too, rather close, and his eyes are closed, but you know he can't have fallen asleep so fast. Gently, you bring a hand to the back of his head, careful, as always, not to touch his dingo ears. You pull him closer ever so slowly. If he resists at all, you'll let go.

Hoseok lets out a shaking breath. He wraps both arms around you and tugs you closer, his face pressing itself against your neck. Eyes still closed, he squeezes you close. It's warm.

That's right, you think.

He’s a strong little pup, but he hates being alone.

How did you manage to forget that?

=

If Jimin has anything to say about the fact that you've started to retire to the master room at the end of the day, he doesn't vocalize it. Hoseok never brings it up, either. He's hardly touchy during the daytime, keeping his hands to himself, especially in front of Jimin. Yet, when night comes, he pulls you to bed like he's done it his entire life and keeps his arms around you until you fall asleep and wake up to find him all tangled up in the sheets.

Jimin either hasn't noticed, or, as you suspect, he doesn't care.

He'll often say he's "still thinking about it". You're not quite sure how to respond to it every time, so now you just smile and nod, sometimes reminding him that the choice is still his.

One night, you find him in the common area, sitting on a couch and watching a muted cartoon on the tv you'd connected to your Netflix account the day before. The subtitles aren't even on, and when he turns at the sound of your footsteps, you see the red of his eyes, and the shining tracks on his cheeks.

There's still a lot you don't know about Jimin.

Rayoung. Her boyfriend. His red contacts and why he wore them.

"It's freezing in here," is all he says as he wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. "You should get the heating system checked."

You sit down next to him, neither of you looking at each other. "Feels normal to me."

The cartoon isn't one you recognize, but it looks like it could be fun if you knew what anyone was saying.

For a while, you and Jimin say nothing. He sits next to you, and you next to him. At some point, he shifts just the slightest bit closer so your shoulders brush against each other. That's as far as he goes for your body heat.

"Do you get cold easily?" you eventually whisper.

"Mhmm."

"Is that a snake thing?"

Jimin shakes his head, slowly, the late hour finally getting to him. "Some reptile hybrids are like that, some aren't. There aren't many of us, so people don't really know why. At least... that's what he told me."

He. You decide not to dig into that. Jimin will tell you if he wants to.

"Your scales... the skin around them seemed irritated."

"...Itchy..." Jimin's head falls to your shoulder. He doesn't snuggle in, but he rests there. "I had a cream for it..."

"We should buy some," you say.

"It's expensive... You shouldn't buy it if I'm going to leave soon..."

Though his words cause a muted ache in your heart, you don't stew on it. That was always the case.

"You can take it with you."

Jimin doesn't respond, asleep on your shoulder.

You're not sure how much time passes, but later, you hear light, shuffling footsteps behind you, and you turn your head towards the sound, careful not to jostle the slumbering Jimin on your shoulder. Hoseok stands there, eyes half closed but on you nonetheless.

"You left," he mumbles, swaying slightly like he's struggling to stay both awake and upright.

You give him a small smile, lit only by the tv that's still playing that cartoon you don't know the name of. "I didn't go very far."

"Come back to bed?"

Gently, you lift a hand and gesture at Jimin. "Can we bring him back to his, first?"

=

When you're sent the invoice for the window repair, you realize (not for the first time) this won't be easy.

You didn't think it'd be a walk in the park, of course not, but you've never really had to worry about the cost of running a business before. Now, you look at the numbers, and you just can't wrap your head around how it'll all work. Mr Jung left you a considerable amount, yes, but... will it be enough? You can't imagine the motel is in any high level of traffic area for travellers. There are quite a few campsites around in the surrounding forest, but that's about it. How many customers would it take monthly to support the motel? How much has to or even can be sacrificed before any income is made?

You've already spent so much on keeping you, Hoseok, and Jimin alive and warm for the past week. It's normal, you suppose, but you've never supported two dependants before, and the fact that you're currently unemployed doesn't settle the heavy feeling in your chest at all. You're draining your savings while not making any money in the meantime.

A safe haven for hybrids...

...who can't pay rent.

Maybe Mr Jung was older and more senile than you thought.

You shake your head and rub your hands over your face, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. First, you gotta apologize to Mr Jung for disrespecting the dead. You might be cynical, but he had a dream. A really good and nice dream. Secondly, you scold yourself for thinking what you did about hybrids. Of course they can't pay rent. They were born into a system that actively discourages their financial (and pretty much every other kind of) autonomy. They can't pay for anything because of humans.

Still, you don't know how long you can keep running Heaven's Door on your inheritance alone. You haven't even opened yet -- how much will it cost to run for a month? Three? A year?

"Do the numbers change if you sigh hard enough?"

You turn in your swivel chair to glare at Jimin, who's sitting in the chair next to you with one leg folded up to his chest, foot propped up on the seat. He doesn't return your gaze, enraptured by the match-three game he's playing on your phone, which he's been going at rather consistently for the past two days. You don't really have a job for him right now, and aside from the tv, he doesn't have much to take up his time. You'd offered to grab the contents of your bookshelf back at home for him, but he'd casually refused, telling you he'd take a look next time you make the trip, but not to go out of your way.

"Maybe they will," you taunt back, which goes just as ignored as your glare. "I better sigh harder to test it out."

You tilt your head, looking at your phone in his hand. "Should I get you guys phones...?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Jimin's eyes glance up, and he finally acknowledges you. He doesn't need to say it. He does anyway.

"I'm still thinking."

Curling your lips in, you nod, turning back to the computer and hovering your hands over the mouse and keyboard even though you have no plans on what to do with them. "Right. Right..."

Thankfully, Hoseok chooses that awkward moment to walk into the lobby. "You should take a break," he says. "How is your head feeling?"

"It's fine, doc." You roll your eyes, smiling. "Just as fine as I said it was yesterday."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

You shake your head. "The doctor said they're for headaches. They're just painkillers -- the few times my head has hurt, the pain went away by the time I remembered I could take them."

Jimin lowers your phone and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. It's not positive; you know that at least. "You're still getting headaches?"

"Only itty-bitty ones," you try to placate them.

"How long has it been since you fell?"

You almost forgot you lied to Jimin about how you got your concussion. By the looks of Hoseok's guilty expression, though, you're not sure if you regret it. You don't want him to feel responsible, but talking about it -- whether or not Jimin knows -- still seems to remind him of what he did. Where you put the blame doesn't matter to him. He still thinks it's his fault.

"Uhh... a little over a week?" you answer, keeping a careful eye on Hoseok. "Maybe eight or nine days."

Jimin frowns. "That can't be good, right?"

"The doctor said to go back to the hospital if the symptoms last over two weeks." Concern laced in his features, Hoseok crosses his arms.

You nod along. "I'll put the date on my calendar, okay? I'm sure I'll be fine by then."

"You better not play it down when the time comes," Hoseok warns.

"Yes sir," you joke.

Hoseok takes in a sharp breath, shoulders scrunching up for half a second before he forces them to relax. A small huff of a laugh escapes Jimin's nose, and you look at him in confusion, but his eyes are on Hoseok, something playful and teasing in them. Jimin mouths something to Hoseok, which you can't read.

Hoseok grumbles and tightens the arms crossed in front of him. "Shut up."

"No fair," you whine. "You guys already have inside jokes?"

Jimin just laughs harder while Hoseok gives him a death glare and says, "It doesn't count as an inside joke if I don't find it funny."

"Don't worry," Jimin teases through a smirk. "I find it funny enough for the both of us!"

You can't help but smile at the ever-growing amity between the two hybrids, which is admittedly playful in the biting way, but it still makes you happy that they're somewhat getting along.

=

"We should celebrate," you tell the boys one day.

"Celebrate what?" Jimin questions, hands stuffed in his coat pocket and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You'd gone around the back of the motel and found a paved, patio-like area, complete with five wooden picnic tables, propane patio heaters, and an old-looking but (probably) functional barbecue, but Jimin isn't exactly a fan of the cool breeze flowing through the air.

You lift the lid of the barbecue, examining the charred grates of the grill. "Well, I dunno, but it'd be a shame not to use this before it gets too cold out."

"Too late," Jimin mumbles. His lips are hidden behind the front of his coat, which he's ducked half his face into.

Hoseok ignores Jimin, nodding at your idea. "A barbecue night would be nice."

"How are you on the grill?" you ask him.

"I'm better at prepping."

You chuckle. "So basically, not good?"

"Not good," he echoes with a smile.

After sharing some giggles, you look at the barbecue again. "I'm sure I could figure this out."

"I'm going back inside," Jimin tells you both, already walking away.

"C'mon!" you call after him. "It'll be fun!"

=

Although you're in a different store now, near the edge of the city closer to the motel, the pet/hybrid aisle hosts a pretty similar collection to the store near your apartment. You pull another plain, black collar off the hook on the shelf, which matches the one currently sitting around Hoseok's neck.

He's not paying attention at all, as far as you know, instead hunched over the pushbar of the shopping cart he insisted on pushing for you, poring over the grocery list you'd written on a memo pad for tonight's "celebration".

In your mind, you've started calling it your "new friends party :D", emoticon included, but you haven't worded that out loud to either of the boys. Hoseok would surely laugh at the childishness of the name, even if he'd politely try to stifle it, and you know Jimin would only remind you that his relationship to you and Hoseok is temporary.

Mood killer, you think to Jimin, although it's the hypothetical version of him.

The real Jimin is looking at the array of collars on the shelf like you asked him to, and you step up next to him.

"What do you think?"

Jimin frowns, deep in thought. "They're all ugly."

Okay, maybe not that deep.

"Ouch," you chuckle, fingers toying with the black silk in your hand. "You don't have to wear one all the time -- just while we're in public spaces like this."

Grumbling, Jimin stuffs both his hands in his coat pockets. "In public... that's when I wanna look good."

"Okay, okay." You pat a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we can find one you like online, or something."

"Doesn't this one work?" Jimin points at his neck, fingers ghosting over the soft velvet of your red choker.

You tilt your head. "I guess... Probably."

The tags for collars have to be bought and customized separately anyway. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to put Jimin's on your choker, though attaching the tag might not be as simple as the store-bought collars. Manageable, though, you're sure.

"If you're done being picky, we should get going. The frozen meat will be rotten by the time we get to the car," Hoseok says, making Jimin roll his eyes and stick his tongue out at him.

You clap your hands together. "Ooh! We should get ice cream!"

When you bring all the groceries to the counter, you notice that Jimin keeps his head down, avoiding the eyes of the person ringing everything up. This isn't new -- Jimin seems to not like making eye contact with anyone but you or Hoseok.

He'd tossed the red contacts after one of them had an intimate meet and greet with your bedroom floor, but you can tell he doesn't like being without them. It's awful, you think, how long he wore those fake red eyes just because his owner... what, enjoyed the idea of owning a deadly hybrid?

The... exoticism?

You shiver.

On the cusp of winter time, with Jimin in a couple layers, you wouldn't even know he's a hybrid if you weren't paying attention. As far as you know, his only hybrid-defining trait is his scales, and the only ones you can see right now are on his neck. They'd easily go unnoticed to the everyday passerby.

"Your total is--"

The cashier's voice startles you, and all you can do is shake your head when they ask if you have their points reward card.

Before heading back to the motel, you make a quick stop at your apartment, telling the boys that you're just grabbing some more of your clothes and that they can wait in the car. You do grab some clothes, but you also pick up a few of your favourite books. Hopefully the boys will be able to find some entertainment in them. Recently, you discovered a recreation room in the motel, complete with a couple of exercise machines and a pool table. With how preoccupied you are with all this motel business stuff, though, you haven't had the time to play a round of pool or even think about exercising. Maybe the boys have been in there, but it seems like Hoseok is almost always somewhere around you, still weary of your condition.

It's sort of fair, you think. Dizzy spells still hit you sometimes.

Jimin, too, often sticks around somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because he likes scrolling through your phone and doesn't want to just take it and leave whatever room you're in.

Which brings you to the real reason you stopped by your apartment. You walk up to the mailboxes and pull out your key, smiling when you open your locker and find the packages you were expecting.

It's a bit of a pricey expense -- at least, for how you used to budget your life before it flipped on its head -- but you think it's worth the money. A simple phone for each of the boys, a new family plan to save on the phone bills, and a specialty reptilian hybrid eczema cream. You hope it's the right one for Jimin. You haven't seen his irritated skin since that shower due to the chilly weather, but you still catch him scratching his arms over his clothes from time to time.

You're sure if you told Jimin you wanted to buy the cream for him, he would've refused. The phone, too.

"Took you long enough," Jimin says when you dip back into the driver's seat of your car.

You chuckle. "I missed you too, Mochi."

He huffs at the nickname and crosses his arms, then turns his head to stare out the window. You don't see his faint smile.

=

"It's freezing," Jimin complains through chattering teeth, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders scrunched up practically to his ears.

You can't hold back a little laugh. "I told you, you could either help me out here with the grill, help Hoseok with prepping everything inside, or run the raw food from the kitchen to out here." Raising an eyebrow at him, you gesture towards your gloved hands and the food you're flipping on the grill with metal tongs. It is chilly out, especially since the sun set, but you're wrapped up in your own jacket, and the fire from the grill is keeping your cheeks warm. It probably feels colder to Jimin, though. "You wanna trade with me?"

He gives you a flat look. "You're kidding."

"Thought so. You wanna trade with Hoseok?"

Cringing, Jimin shakes his head. "I hate touching raw meat."

"Well, there's our answer then," you say. "Was that the last of it?"

He nods, another shiver rippling through him. It's almost endearing how red his cheeks are turning, but you know he really can't stand the cold.

"Okay, go inside and warm up. I should be done cooking everything in ten or fifteen minutes. Bring this plate in--" You point at a foil-wrapped plate of the food you've already cooked. "I can bring the rest inside once I'm finished."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly. "I thought you wanted to eat out here?" He looks at one of the picnic tables.

"Nah." You shrug. "It's way too cold for me, and the food will cool down too fast."

Elated by this news, Jimin smiles and bounces on his feet when he grabs the plate and runs it inside.

"And help Hoseok clean up the kitchen!" you yell out right before the door shuts behind him.

Truthfully, you did want to eat outside for the celebration, but it's more important to you that Jimin is comfortable and happy. After all, he's one of your new friends, and that's the whole point of tonight. You smile at the thought, excited to gift the boys their new cell phones after dinner.

Flipping some of the last pieces of meat on the grill, you hum to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand reach for the plate you have set to the side for the cooked food. It tentatively grabs one of the slices of meat and pulls it off the plate, which you let out a chuckle at.

"What, you couldn't wait a couple more minute--"

You choke to a stop, though, when you look up and see neither Hoseok nor Jimin.

Dark eyes meet yours for less than a moment before swiftly turning downward. The man stumbles back a step, but he freezes in almost the same way you do. Except, instead of his jaw dropping open like yours does, he pauses mid-chew, the frisked meat still in between his teeth.

That's not what makes your breath hitch, though.

Even under the blackened sky, you can see the bruises.

A dark, deep purple sits boldly under is left eye, the surrounding skin a sickening blend of yellow and green that winds up all the way to his brow. His chin sports another bruise in a similar state, like the blows had been a couple days ago and the skin has gone through only the first stages of healing. Although his face is grimy with sweat and dirt, you can see crusted blood just at his hairline before his black hair hides anything else. You can tell his lip was completely busted at some point, marred with dark, dried blood that's been split over and over again and given no chance to heal.

Even his stance looks like he's in pain. Like he's trying to make himself look smaller.

You swallow the shock down, the words not coming out. "I..."

He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice. Both of his hands shoot up, palms flat and facing you. "Sorry-- I'm sorry," he mumbles and winces, like it hurts to speak. His voice is scratchy and rasping.

He backs up further while you try to find something to say, something to do, but before you can do anything, he runs off the patio and disappears into the treeline, a clear limp in his movement.

"Wait!" you call out, but he's gone.

Maybe it was the injuries that made you want to go after him. Maybe it was the way he held himself, like he didn't want to be in his own body. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled, or the fact that he definitely wasn't wearing enough for the temperature outside.

Maybe it was all that combined, but most of all, it was the pointed black ears you saw on top of his head.

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[reidfucker]

mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric

spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.

- working for the knife

honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:

I always thought the choice was mine

And I was right, but I just chose wrong

I start the day lying and end with the truth

That I'm dying for the knife

- liquid smooth

I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too

I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe

About to fall

How I feel this river rushing through my veins

With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round

- class of 2013

Mom, would you wash my back?

This once, and then we can forget

And I'll leave what I'm chasing

For the other girls to pursue

Mom, am I still young?

Can I dream for a few months more?

- i don't smoke

Just don't leave me alone

Wondering where you are

I am stronger than you give me

Credit for

If your hands need to break

More than trinkets in your room

You can lean on my arm

As you break my heart

- abbey

again, the entire song is very reid, but:

I am something

I have been something

I was born something

What could I be?

There is a light that I can see

But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me

There is a dream that I sometimes see

That only appears in the dark of sleep

- i bet on losing dogs

Will you let me, baby, lose

On losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I wanna feel it

I bet on losing dogs

I always want you when I'm finally fine

- the deal

Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night

And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight

Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me

So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said

"Now I'm taken, the night has me

You won't hear me singin'

You're a cage without me

Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for

Now I'm taken, the night has me"

- fireworks

this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:

One morning this sadness will fossilize

And I will forget how to cry

I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change

Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye

I will go jogging routinely

Calmly and rhythmically run

And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side

I'll pull it out without questioning why

- i don't like my mind

again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room

With all its opinions about the things that I've done

So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone

And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake

- first love / late spring

very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:

And I was so young when I behaved 25

Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child

And I don't wanna go home

Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

- there's nothing left for you

You could touch fire

You could fly

It was your right

It was your life

And then it passed

To someone new

It'll keep passin' on

Long after you

- nobody

And I don't want your pity

I just want somebody near me

Guess I'm a coward

I just want to feel alright

- because dreaming costs money, my dear

I once lived in the sea

Bring me to your ear, you can hear

The tide where I used to be

Though now I'm but a shell

- a pearl

Sorry, I don't want your touch

It's not that I don't want you

Sorry, I can't take your touch

It's just that I fell in love with a war

Nobody told me it ended

And it left a pearl in my head

And I roll it around every night

Just to watch it glow

Every night, baby, that's where I go

- real men

Real men keep cool in the face of a fire

Go down with the ship

And real men don't eat

'Cause they're above that, damn it

Oh, I'm gonna be a real man

- crack baby

It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation

Both these 20 years tryna fill the void

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you had it once

And you know that you want it back

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you're needing it

And you know that you need it bad

[stinkylittleanon]

Can I request Guzman with a stoic s/o? (Preferably male) Guzman already looks menacing and behind him is his tall Boyfriend who looks even scarier. S/o also loves bug type pokemon :)

Its doesn't have to be a full story just silly little head canons or scenarios.

YES!!! YES I CAN DO THIS!!! Kicking my feetsies bc this is (from what I remember) my first male reader request >:))))

Guzma w/ Stoic Male S/O!

First of all, no one has ANY clue how you two got together, it was like- A miracle!

At first, Guzma didn't like you very much. Something about your stoic behavior pissed him off and just made him assume you were like all those other people who thought they were better than everyone else

But actually, something ended up changing that. Something that's only between the two of you.

One day, Guzma stumbled upon you on one of the more hidden beaches. You were on a rock, sitting casually with... Wimpod??

Why were they not running from you? And how did you have so many around you?

"What is he doing..."

Guzma muttered to himself, squinting at you. You seemed to have a wimpod on your lap, and somethin' was goin' on...

So he made his way over, hands stuffed in his pockets. His presence, of course, scared off the small pokemon that surrounded you. Yet you still didn't look up.

"What're ya doin', jackass?"

Erm... He doesn't have the most family-friendly language, but anyways!

The wimpod on your lap started to freak out now that someone else was here, but you were quick to hold onto it.

Guzma couldn't help the way his heart stopped (in a positive way) as you quietly shushed the Wimpod and comforted it...

"Shhh..." It was a simple noise that calmed the creature down as you stroked its back, holding it close to you.

"It's injured." Was all you said once the Wimpod was calmed.

Since that day, he didn't really see you the same. And slowly but surely, he started letting you hang around his town, y'know?

When Guzma was teased about it by some Grunts, he was just

"Psh! As if I would warm up to that guy!"

And then suddenly you guys just?? Kissed?? In front of everyone

Well more like you casually walked up to Guzma, gave him a big ol' smooch, and acted like nothing happened

That's basically how everyone found out you two got together

And when you join Team Skull?!?!

Guzma can't see enough of his boyfriend in the uniform- He's fuckin' awooga mode when he sees you try it on for the first time

Immediately you're an admin, and he knows he can trust you

You're around him more than Plumeria is, and that's sayin' somethin'

You guys are literally like- Scary dog privileges for each other

If someone isn't intimidated by one of you, then they're intimidated by the other

You tend to walk behind Guzma, and I imagine Guzma to be a good 5'9-6'0, so you're... You're very tall

Tall boyfriend x Medium boyfriend

ALSO BUG TYPE BOYFRIENDS BUG TYPE BOYFRIENDS

Rest your elbow on Guzma's head

It'll get him pissed, yeah, but he's still flustered

Something about seeing someone taller than him,,,, :flushed:

You always manage to get Guzma worked up, whether he's flustered or angered (in a lighthearted way), and then just stare at him with that damn expression

He knows you're doing it on purpose!! STop that!! Actually don't

Sometimes he'll catch you off guard though

A good ol' smack on the ass (only if you're comfortable with it) is somethin' he'll do sometimes (again, only consensual)

Or when he's frustrated enough, he'll grab your shirt and force you down to his height

The first time he did this... You almost fell over, but it got the both of you flustered because your faces got really close

Behind closed doors, though, he's like a puppy looking for affection

And seeing your expression soften when you two are alone... <3333

He's fuckin' in love with you, and he's always reminded when he's alone with you

PDA isn't something Guzma is too big on, he'll wrap an arm around your waist but only if you're comfy

Your stoic nature still frustrates him sometimes, but that's him getting over some o' that good ol' trauma

Also sometimes, when Guzma will tell you (not ask, tell you-) to kiss him

You'll go "No." without any fuckin' emotion

But at the same time you're leaning down and givin' him a kiss

Bonus:

Things Guzma will say about you/to you

"That's my man!"

"He needs to get that stick out o' his ass!" (And then he goes on about how hot you are)

"Goddamn- Fuckin- Hot bastard son o' a bitch- Fuck you!"

[dieaverage]

ROSE-COLORED BOY — eddie munson x female reader as childhood friends to enemies to friends again to sickeningly-in-love lovers

chapter two — 4

word count: 2.6k+

PREVIOUS | NEXT

author’s note: now we’re getting into the good stuff :)) had lots of fun writing this silly little chapter. the hopper girl in me couldn’t resist a little cameo.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳

After what had been about a twenty minute walk, finally, you reached the Hideout, grotty as ever, the only bar of its kind in Hawkins. Yes, as you had so humbly described it earlier, it appeared Hawkins nightlife had indeed... boomed.

You were greeted by a blast of heat upon opening the door, a welcome change from the crisp autumn air that had turned your face a rosy pink in complexion. You headed straight for the bar, assuming a seat there, refraining from taking in your surroundings. You weren't in the mood to pick a fight (then again, you never were), something which you felt could not be said for many of the bar's current inhabitants.

The bartender approached with a limp smile, and before you could open your mouth to place an order, a low voice spoke up from beside you.

"Another beer, Earl. Hot toddy for the lady."

You eyes trailed to the left, too reluctant to shift your entire head, revealing a man in a police uniform, a stetson shielding his face, a cigarette held firmly in his right hand.

The barkeep placed the drinks on the counter side by side, though your eyes remained fixed on your self proclaimed drinking buddy, who proceeded to take a swig of his beer before landing it back on the counter beside your own untouched glass forcefully. I hope he’s off-duty.

"A thank you would suffice." Finally, a sentence directed at you.

"I assumed you were keeping that for someone who asked for it." A minute passed, and you relished in the fact that your cutting comment had seemingly put a pin in any further attempt at conversation.

"You're cold."

"What?"

"Your cheeks are flushed. Although it could very well be in result of present company, I assume it's the unprecedented cold snap. So, I suggest you drink up."

Suddenly, it dawned on you. The uniform, the hat, the aggravating, husky, inherently cocky drone, all too familiar. "Jim Hopper." you said flatly, attempting to conceal the growing smirk on your face at the interesting development to an otherwise quiet night.

His head lifted, and with it, the hat, revealing stormy blue eyes which glared into your own. "Chief." he corrected, followed by a lengthy puff of the cigarette he clung to so dearly.

"Chief. I see that power trip is still well and truly kicking."

You could almost feel the anger radiating off his body at the remark, filling you with a strange sense of enjoyment. It was fair to say the chief wasn't the only one who enjoyed a good power trip.

He took another swig, inhaling deeply as he did so. You sipped your own drink, the liquid, although providing warmth, causing a distinct stinging sensation. Whiskey had definitely never been your drink of choice. Then again, the chief of police had certainly never been your company of choice. Perhaps tonight was for trying new things. It’s not like that whole tortured man drinking himself into oblivion to avoid facing the harsh realities of the cards life had dealt him… wasn’t a little hot.

You glanced over at him once again, jumping slightly in your seat when you found he was looking right back. His piercing gaze startling, providing a sense of dread which could only be compared to the feeling of someone leaping out at you from a dark room.

"Take a picture, chief. It'll last longer."

"Daphne."

A chuckle escaped your lips at the unexpected nature of his addressing you, though your name on his lips sent an uneasy feeling through your body. "What?"

"That's it, you're the Byers girl. Daphne."

His use of the word "girl" in describing you caused an involuntary eye roll, his intonation effortlessly demeaning.

"Aren't you just as observant as ever?" you countered, your continued defensiveness plastering a smirk on the chief's face. Some things never change.

"Where have you been?" he asked casually, like you had left town for the weekend, not four years. You smiled, in disbelief of how someone could be so nonchalant.

"College."

"Ah. Janitorial role, was it?"

"Close! Journalism. Maybe it's for the best you handed in that detective's badge, huh, Chief?"

"Bullshit!" his sudden proclamation likely an effect of the beer he had been knocking back, "Why're you back here, then?"

"I missed you." you cried, an excessive pout on your face to emphasise the sarcasm in the sentiment.

"God, kid, have you ever had a serious conversation in your life?" the sudden shift in his voice taking you aback ever so slightly.

You recalled the countless times he had said something similar to you, such discussions often taking place with you sat in the passenger seat of his cruiser. However, this time, sat across from him in a damp bar on the edge of town, five more years of living under your belt, the words hit with new life, like an old blade that had just been sharpened.

"Visiting Joyce and the boys. Last time I checked, that wasn't a crime, Chief."

"How's your mother?" Hopper had learned a thing or two about you during your semi regular catch-ups in the years prior. It didn't take a genius to see that you weren't a bad kid, just a hurt one. That could have been his reasoning for why you were never officially reprimanded for your many minor infringements, should he ever have needed one, but as much as he hated to admit it, he had a soft spot for you. He had never met another like you, truthfully. No one as stubborn, no one who could piss him off quite like you could. And even now, watching you process his words in the dim light of the bar, he felt the same sense of attachment creeping up on him.

"Dead."

His expression dropped, and immediately you felt a twinge of regret for how you had chosen to deliver the news. If there was a right way to tell someone such news, you figured yours could not have been further from it.

"Daph..."

"No. It- it's fine. I'm fine."

The sudden rush of blood to your head brought on a bout of dizziness. "Look, it’s getting late, I th- I'm gonna go." Without waiting for a response, you peeled yourself off the barstool and headed for the door, trying with all your strength to make it out without losing your balance.

Just about getting yourself outside, you leaned your back against the wall, the cool surface providing a much needed feeling of relief. Before your brain could even register the action, your body was sliding down the wall until the initial shock of your legs meeting the cold, hard ground kicked in, waking you up a little. You remained there in silence for all of a minute before you heard the door of the bar open and swiftly close again.

"Come on, kid."

You looked up to see the chief of police towering over you, his coat in hand. Grabbing you by both arms and pulling you up off the ground before you even had a chance to resist, he took the garment in both hands and in one swift motion wrapped it around your frame, its warmth spanning from your shoulders where it rested down to your knees. "Are you trying to get pneumonia?"

"Right now I'm just trying to get home." you answered shortly, brushing past his arm before he could turn around and promptly pull you back with a slight tug.

“Get in the car.”

"You've been drinking."

"What are they going to do, arrest me?"

With a frown on your face, you sighed as your eyes rested on his helplessly. Arguing was something that, for what felt like the first time ever, you were physically incapable of doing. Taking your hand in his, you felt yourself surrender any power you had over your own body as he led you to his cruiser.

That's when a voice echoed through the increasingly bitter air, a voice that stood out as belonging to someone other than the four people you'd spoken to since your return. "You knowww cops are supposed to combat crime, right, Hop? Not commit it. And from where I'm standing, chief- officer- uh, sir, the only thing standing between you, your little lady friend and that vehicle is a DUI arrest, potential murder-suicide, and I mean, christ, by the looks of it a barely escaped kidnapping charge." Wow, this guy has a way with his words.

"God, kid, don't you have some cretinous sophomores you need to go force your narcotics on?" the chief bit back.

You didn't dare to look up, your gaze remaining firm on the concrete with which your feet felt like could be ripped out from under them any second. Who could be bothered berating a sober Hopper, let alone a dr- and then the realisation dawned on you that your enthusiastic notion of a "sober Hopper" was likely a little dubious, or at least it had been the last time you'd had the pleasure of sharing a town with him, and you cannot help but elicit a giggle.

Clearly in your drifting thought several more jabs had been exchanged because your apparent amusement resulted in a scolding, "Something funny, kid?" from your knight in shining polyester.

Finally, you will yourself to meet his eyes, which are now re-affixed on his sparring partner, and following his train of vision allows you to finally visualise who the other party has been in this pitiful dick-measuring contest. A sight which immediately causes all the blood to drain from your head so forcefully you can only liken it to the opening of a dam. You become sickeningly aware of your previously demonstrated lack of agency, as you do the unyielding clench of the chief of police's hand around your forearm, resulting in your indignant shaking off of the latter. The former would be a little harder to dispel.

"Go home, Hopper. I'm fine."

"Hang on, you were the one who wan-"

"You heard the lady. Skedaddle! My darling, darling Flo deals with enough shit under your lackeys without having to be subjected to the sight of your hungover ass first thing on a Thursday morning."

Jim Hopper responds with what can only be discerned as a grumble before clambering into the driver's seat of his cruiser, and you feel an overwhelming twinge of mortification as you register that you almost went home with him in that state. Would still hit it, though.

Such realisation is swiftly replaced, however, as you and him are now the only people left outside the bar.

After a couple strenuous beats, in that conceited, sardonic drawl, "You're welcome."

"Huh?"

"It's a polite response. Uuusually preceded by a polite acknowledgment of a serv-"

"Oh my God, please stop talking. Jesus Christ." you snap, clenching the bridge of your nose. Your infamous migraine had long been awakened at this stage.

"Jesus, what the hell crawled up your ass and di-"

You lower your hand from over your eyes so that they can meet his, so that this asshole can realise he knows the answer to his interrupted query too well already.

“Fuck. Daph..... ne. *ahem* Daphne."

"Fuck off, Eddie." And with that, you, absolutely aimlessly, take off on foot in the opposite direction of the bar, I mean seriously, your sense of direction is obsolete, but still, you feel compelled to be the one doing the fucking off as soon as you remember he cannot be trusted with such imperatives.

The careless commotion of stones being kicked paired with embarrassingly exhaustive breathing getting nearer to your back confirms such preconceptions. “You’re back. When did- Why?”

And you try, you really do try to resist engagement, but he’s like a bad smell. He clings. Unforgivingly. Only removed with force. And, unfortunately for him and every other person in this town, you’re like dynamite. Highly explosive at the slightest activation. No, that’s not a euphemism.

“Why do you give a fuck? In fact, why were you even here? Lingering, creeping, just waiting to fucking pounce, to swoop in and save the day like the hero you so desperately want to believe you fucking are.”

This startles him. You’re glad it startles him. You’re convinced you can almost see past his mangled, curly locks right into his brain where the gears are working in overdrive.

“Fuck me, Daphne. My sincerest apologies if I’m surprised to see you here after four fucking years, but to the shock and horror of most people in this town, but probably most of all your own, time didn’t freeze when you left. The Earth did not stop revolving around the sun, in fact, it did it four more fucking times. So sorry if seeing you with your paws all over Chief Hopper in the parking lot caught me off guard a little bit, which also, him, really? And not that you would have any idea, because, at the risk of repeating myself, four fucking years, but Corroded Coffin plays here every Wednesday. Every single Wednesday. It’s become sort of a tradition for us, but you wouldn’t know, would you?”

His eruption equally startles you, though this time not at all to your own amusement. You left hi- Hawkins on bad terms, awful, even. There was no coming back, from anything or anywhere or anyone, you had made sure of that. And yes, you realised, stood in what remained of the distant, eerie glow of the Hideout, staring into his relentlessly brown pools for eyes (which had always, in your opinion, been tremendously uncalled for), you hadn’t exactly kept to your word. But, that didn’t explain why his outburst stung as if the wounds were fresh, because they weren’t. He had been abundantly clear about that.

You allowed several moments to pass while you deliberated between a number of responses, favourites including, but not limited to: fuck you; fuck off; it wasn’t my fault; fuck you, you fucking asshole. Ultimately, the best one you could muster up was to turn on your heels and continue once more on your undisclosed journey without acknowledgement. Surely, you knew by now that one never worked on him.

“Daphne.” His intense grip extends to your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks as it sends a reviving yet unsettling warmth throughout your otherwise glacial body. You absolutely despised how he could do that. “Where are you going?”

“H-h-home.” Voice cracks betraying the callous front you so desperately wished to keep up, and you knew your composure couldn’t sustain this level of confrontation for much longer.

“Eddie? You out here, man?” a rescuing mop of curly hair yelled from the door of the Hideout which you immediately recognised as belonging to none other than his dickhead bandmate Gareth. Well, helpful dickhead, as it stands.

“Your girlfriend’s looking for you.” you coldly remark, though it still manages to elicit a sniff vaguely resembling amusement from your… from Eddie.

“He’ll live. Come on.” He gestured towards what you did not even have to verify with a glance was his box of rust on wheels he liked to call a van.

“What?”

“Daphne, seriously, don’t piss me off.”

“Oh, you passed the point of pissing me off a long fucking time ago, Munson. Four rotations ago, to be precise, right? Leave me. The fuck. Alone.”

With one violent motion, you shook his hand from its convenient place on your shoulder, immediately welcoming the return of the brisk air to your entire frame, and off you unapologetically went, this time without interference, though not without observance. You could feel his stare watching, burning into your back, harder than you could feel anything else in this soul-numbing cold.

There was plenty you weren’t sure of on coming back to Hawkins. An incredible amount. Perhaps the only thing you really could be sure of is that you couldn’t do that. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

[pokege-ne-project]

This normal silence. Silence that only it's supposed to be able to enjoy, but to its surprise! There's three strangers here, and not just any normal strangers. There's in total...

Oh, this won't do at all! If they stay here, they won't ever get to exist! The non-lives they'll be stuck in! Oh this won't do at ALL!

{Raffle Rules and More Below!}

Shortly after thinking on its options, it had an idea. Maybe it'll find a home for these yet-born stones!

But what would convince peoples to adopt these strange strangers... Oh! Some explanations for what they are:

Stranger 1:

An odd little one, seems like Water/Normal! Whoever the stranger will be have heritage that does not exist in the "normal" world, whatever that is! A true being of purity of water and craftiness, if someone believes in that!

Stranger 2:

This stranger might be a feisty one, looks like Fire/Electric! The species of this one has a mix of a well-known face; yet also of Pokemon that once existed in a realm still in progress. Once upon a time, its ancestor may even traveled with their fiery partner to encouter both familiar and unfamiliar foes...

Stranger 3:

Oh, how interesting, they're also Grass/Steel, ignoring their currently existing counterpart! A being composing of past and future, inconceivably existing as a hybrid of both! The two opposites somehow combining to be an impossible miracle of the Tera caverns...

Oh, now to send out the word!!!!

---------------------------

>> Welcome!

Thank you all for the 75 (now 80 85!! holy SHIT) followers (and roughly one-year anniversary for the blog)!! This is still. wild tbh. I appreciate everyone here so much. Even if I'm not the best at this, I love interacting with folks here and hope y'all feel the same.

For some reason my brain wanted to run this raffle like this. You can disregard any context for the designs given by this post if you wish, it is a raffle after all, as long as the designs aren't sold off or something, y'all can do what you wish with them after.

To join, you just need to reblog and be following (new followers can join and leave if you wish). When reblogging, please put which design you wish for either in the tags, or as a reply. Please don't join with more than one blog per person.

The raffle will last from Feb. 16th (now as of posting) to Feb. 25th at 12 PM CST! Additionally, if you wish to go for a different design before the raffle ends, feel free to edit your tags/send a new reply!

Thank you all again!! <3 Here's to a good year for us all.

[reen-zuu]

Serendipitous; Madarame Shion

Tags

Fluff, Cute, Kinda awkward, First Meeting, Love at First Sight, Down bad Shion, Reading books, Fav books, Coffee shop AU, Destined lovers, Very cute, Flirty Shion, Hard-to-get Reader, Overall fluff, Swooning, Flirting, Then there's Ran about to puke when he's looking at Shion

Enjoy Darling 😘

[Coffee shop au, fluff ] ; word count: 1.7k

__________

Summary

Romance books just portray the unrealistic idea of love. You knew that all the time and that's why you fantasize about these 'men written by women' a lot. So reading in your favourite coffee shop is always there to compensate for your loneliness.

But what if, one particular day...Madarame Shion suddenly interrupts your me-time?

Did you ever expect that his presence might take a whole new turn in your love life?

__________

Shion didn't know what was going on and what was this feeling.

But he can't stand it anymore.

He wants to know your name.

He stood up from his seat, leaving his untouched latte alone on the table since he didn't even bother to take a sip of it.

It's not like he intended to do that. His plan was to drink latte for a while as he was waiting for a friend of his that was busy getting a hair treatment in a nearby salon.

But now, looking at you made him forget how delicious the drink will be.

Your table was about three tables away from his. And you were minding your own business and not bothered by your surroundings since you were too invested with (favourite book) by (author's name).

But it'll be too dumb to say that you didn't notice that the chair in front of you, that was supposed to be vacant...was settled by someone else.

You moved your eyes to the person in front of you and that's where you saw a pair of black eyes that is too dark, that even your reflection can't be seen.

His hair was light blonde, short, and shaved, making his face tattoo exposed and you can clearly see that it resembles the shape of a lion.

With two piercings on each of his ears and he wore a black leather jacket, well it just makes this mysterious man's attractiveness increase even more.

That's when you know for sure, that this guy has such enticing features but you don't want to have those thoughts about him.

Because what he is doing right now is extremely rude. He didn't even ask permission to sit at your table.

"Can I help you?" You tried to express your discomfort so that he could get the hint...that you don't want his presence to be there.

"I don't know." He let out a chuckle. Amused by how feisty you are from the start.

"Maybe you can...by telling me your name." He rested his chin on his palm. His other free hand's fingers were busy knocking the table like its piano tiles.

"No, thank you." You sound displeased. Not wanting to be disturbed like this in your favourite coffee shop where it is exclusively supposed to be your me-time. Where supposedly, not even a single person can stop you or bother you from doing the things you love.

But he is doing that right now.

Being a nuisance.

"I'm Madarame Shion."

You furrowed your eyebrows at his sudden introduction. You were sure that you didn't ask his goddamn name or who he was in the first place.

But sometimes you can't understand the words that suddenly come out of your mouth.

"So your tattoo resembles your name?" Oblivious that your question will pump up his adrenaline even more.

A smile crept upon his face, knowing that your question was electrifying him.

"Oh, so you are interested in me?"

Damn it.

This wasn't a competition, but you felt like you were defeated.

You're telling a massive lie if you say that you aren't attracted to him. He is handsome, especially when he flashes that lovely smile.

Maybe it was natural that he is charming and the aura that he radiates was enthralling, that you can't resist.

But you don't want to give in to these foreign desires. It could be a possibility that he is just messing with you or he wants to fill in his ample time. Maybe you're not the only girl that he is flirting with, it could be plenty, seeing how expert he is with swooning you.

So there's no point in feeling these butterflies in your stomach.

"Please kindly leave." You said. Anger was quite obvious in your tone. You know for sure that emotion welled up in you, not because you hate his presence, but the fact that he's just playing around and he might have done this to a thousand girls.

You don't want to care anymore.

You quickly moved back your eyes to your book. Not bothering to take a last look on him before he leaves.

But you were aware that he is still there.

Guess you have to ignore him until he decided to leave (where at the very moment that he already found you boring).

But no.

Unexpected words come out of his mouth.

That very sentence.

Those words.

God.

You can't ignore him anymore.

Because you were in a trance, after hearing those exact words come out from his mouth.

"Huh?" You acted like you didn't understand what he said but you know that you did. It was just an act.

"That's my favourite quote from that book." He said.

No words can be retorted back to him.

Because fuck.

That's your favourite quote too.

Out of countless authors, infinite books and indescribable amounts of quotes that lie within their books, magically, both of you share the same favourite one.

It might just be clear that the world is trying to tell you that this very person in front of you....is one in a million.

And you are lucky to find him.

"You read books?" Maybe your question is quite condescending but you can't believe it. He doesn't look like he's interested to read books or even bother to look at one even. He's already unbelievably handsome and he read books when he's bored? It sounds like the word 'perfect' is more imperfect than him.

"Surprise, I guess."

You tried your best to not smile when listening to his answer. You don't want to show your real emotions. You're not ready yet. Since you're afraid that he will think that you're someone easy to read and predict.

It does feel like a dream come true. Finding someone that likes the same things as you. Men, that read books are not something rare but having the same favourite quote with them?

It's just too specific. This can't be coincidental.

This must be some serendipitous shit that only happens in romance books or movies.

That's why you can't give in to all of this yet.

More things should be dugout.

"Do you read other books from (author's name)?"

He then started to list out every book that the author has published . Stating which one is his least favourite and saying which one he had repeated a thousand times. Stating out his opinion bravely of which one had the best plot and which one had the best characters.

God.

You're agreeing to every word he says because you do think the same as him.

No way.

Your meeting with him is not a coincidence.

But it sounds so humiliating for you to say it's destiny.

"So this book was the one that led you here? At my table?"

"Hmm...not exactly. That's not the main reason."

He then started to lean his body closer and he stared into your eyes deeply. He can't deny it all, your eyes are so mesmerizing to look at and if he had the choice, he wants to look at them for eternity.

"Can I-

"Shion!" A sudden voice called out his name.

The voice came from the door of the coffee shop.

Shion rolled his eyes out of annoyance. Knowing that his attempt to try to get to know the pretty girl in front of him gets interrupted so suddenly.

You moved your gaze to see Shion's friend who had pigtails as his hairstyle and black golden hair as his noticeable feature.

"Be there in a minute!" Shion responded without looking back at his friend.

The sound of the bells rang the coffee shop, indicating that his friend had closed the door.

"Well, guess I am...kindly leaving."

You were quite startled to hear him use your words. It's stupid even that you yourself didn't remember your words before.

He's about to leave now.

But you don't want him to. It doesn't matter if he will rudely or kindly leaving you after this, you don't care anymore.

You want him to stay.

But there's nothing for you to worry about when abruptly, he took out a small piece of paper from the pockets of his ripped jeans.

"I can't say 'see you later' for now...

... because that depends on you." He said while sliding the paper in your direction.

Relief swarmed into you.

Knowing that you are going to see him again. It's cliché and predictable to know that he's giving you his number. But it was the only way to keep in contact and maybe plan out your second meeting with him.

As he was about to move back to his table, your words halted him.

"(Last name) (First name)."

Finally.

Shion gave a glance at you from his shoulders. A smirk starts to form from his handsome face.

Your eyes were averted away from his. You cannot handle the embarrassment you feel for suddenly introducing yourself at the very last minute.

She's fucking cute. Shion thought when he sees how demure you can be.

"I knew that your name would be beautiful."

Heat started rising up to your cheeks.

Everything was so cheesy and unreal but that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to you.

Still, your eyes remained looking at everywhere else but his eyes, because you know if you did try, you might die.

He then continued his steps back to his table and retrieved his latte cup. Moving his way to the door, he smiled like a dork because he can feel your stares at him.

His friend, Haitani Ran was about to vomit his lunch before this, just by seeing the sight of Shion's shit-eating grin. I mean if you were him, you will also cringe when you see your own friend flirting with somebody else.

Shion's smile is charming for you but it's disgusting for Ran.

"Dude, stop smiling like that, you're creeping the shit out of me."

While you already see Shion and his friend out of your sight, that's when you quickly took the paper that he gave to you. You don't want to be seen obvious that you were excited to get his number.

You opened it slowly and you can see his beautiful and neat handwriting.

There it was, the digits of his number.

Well, that's expected.

But underneath the digits, it was something unexpected.

You never knew that the questions that you have for him is finally answered.

It's confirmed.

That you want to see him later on.

Because this type of people approaching you will be something once in a lifetime.

You read that very sentence on the paper multiple times. Making sure that it sticks inside your core memory and you want to feel that excitement you felt, just like you've read it the first time.

XXX-12341987

Your eyes are the reason.

[sgtbradfords]

Chenford + why didn't you tell me

Tim blinked slowly once, twice as he listened to the statement fall past his girlfriends lips. He could feel his lips pull apart as his mouth fell agape, the brow above his eyes, creasing.

"What the hell are you talking about?" perhaps his question came out a little more crass than he intended. "I didn't think it was necessary for me to tell you!"

Lucy stared back at him, her arms crossed over her chest, from where she where she stood a safe, six feet away from him. "Baby," she lowly sighed. "You have all the signs of a cold, which means you are sick."

"I don't get sick." Never had Tim let an early spring cold, stop him before.

"Really?" she questioned with an incredulous look before she turned around to walk towards the bathroom.

"Fine, but I'm not contagious."

Her voice was muffled as she responded, "Colds are contagious and you kissed me."

Tim looked towards the bathroom door, listening as objects were shuffled around in the small space before his stare caught sight of Lucy, walking back into the room.

So what his throat was scratchy, and his nose stuffy, and a throbbing sensation was ever present inside his his skull.

"Am I not allowed to kiss my girlfriend?"

"Not on the lips when you're sick!" she chided as though it was the most obvious fact in the universe.

Tim had been standing in her apartment for no more than five minutes and ok, ok fine. So maybe she did have a point, and maybe he shouldn't have taken ten seconds upon walking in through her front door, to passionately kiss her on the lips.

He could have kissed her on the forehead or the cheek or-

"Tim, go home."

Her voice was tender, loving, but that didn't stop his frown from deepening.

Lucy stepped forward, setting a series of small, foil packages onto the countertop between them before resting her palm against the chilled stone.

"Take one set from each pack when you get home and then call me, ok?"

Tim blinked, once, twice as his gaze flitted from the pill packs in front of him, to the soft and sweet face of his girlfriend. "You're kicking me out?"

Lucy worried her bottom lip in between her teeth, closing the gap that stood in between them as her hand touched the fabric of his upper arm. "I'm kicking you out of my bed," with that, he looked as though someone had kicked their dog. "And we both know how much you hate sleeping on the couch, baby."

For a few seconds Tim weighed the statement.

"It'll just be for tonight." she attempted to reassure but a part of her sounded hesitant about him leaving.

She didn't have to kick him out of her bed, but she didn't have to allow him in it either. And her navy sofa was more fashionable than sensible which to a man of his stature, left Tim more often than not with a crick in his neck and a discomfort in his lower back on the evenings they would fall asleep there.

With a grumble Tim relented, retrieving the pill packs from the countertop and sliding them into his pants pocket. Glumly he refrained from kissing her before leaving, but he attempted to make up for the loss of her lips slotting against his, by allowing the touch of his palm in hers, to linger.

Tim wishes he could say he fell asleep the moment his body crashed against his mattress, but even with the ample dosages of cold medicine coursing its way through his veins, sleep was futile that night.

The next night, Tim made the executive decision that he wasn't spending another night away from his girlfriend. Sure, they had exchanged countless text messages and they had seen one another at work earlier that morning, but it just wasn't the same.

He was still consuming cold medicine around the clock, but ultimately he was feeling somewhat better. So after signing off at the end of shift, Tim worked on getting a bag packed for him and Kojo for the night, firing off a text to Lucy that her boys would be over in twenty before jokingly following it up with a 'you're not kicking me out again'.

It wasn't ten minutes later when the chime of the doorbell, echoed throughout the house.

Tim frowned.

He wasn't expecting company but he ambled over to the door anyways, checking the other side through the peephole just below eye level.

"Luce?" he questioned upon opening the door. "What are doing here?"

Lucy stood on the stoop before him, the blanket from the back of her couch, wrapped tightly over her shoulders and around her body. In the low light that filtered in from behind him, he could tell that she looked like shit.

He took a step back, allowing her entry but instead of moving further into his house, she pointed her index finger into his chest.

"You're an asshole!"

"What did I do!" Tim was quick to defend as he thought back over everything that had been exchanged in the last day.

"I am now sick, because of you."

Oh.

"I don't think a cold can spread that fast, but-" the rest of his statement was cut off by Lucy opening her arms and subsequently the extra large blanket, to encompass him in a hug.

"And you, are going to make it up to me."

He pressed his lips against the crown of her head, his arms winding around the blanket that covered the small of her back as the subtle scent of her conditioner reaching his nose caused him to smile. "How do you expect me to do that, baby?"

Already in his head, was Tim forming a game plan.

Filling up the humidifier in his bedroom. Making sure her tea supply in his kitchen pantry was well stocked with a variety of flavors. Adding a restock of tissues and cold medicine to his online grocery cart.

"I was thinking we could start by watching some TV on the couch." she mumbled against his chest before raising her head to meet his gaze, the move cause an ever present warmth in his chest when it came to her, to grow.

He could put his game plan into action, later.

"I couldn't think of a better way to spend the night."

If things continued the way they were, Tim knows there wouldn't be a better way to spend the rest of his life.

[ofruinations]

WELCOME CITIZEN / CODENAME — GHOST.

⸻ ( ricky whittle, forty-three, cis man, he/him ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that DEREK CARSON is a SCAVENGER that works in SECTOR 1. According to the file, they’re a mutant with the power of REFLEXIVE ADAPTATION. That must be why they’re OBSERVANT and COWARDLY. If you ask me, they remind me of being out of breath after a run, the fear of being discovered and the uncertainty of tomorrow. They are affiliated with THE JAGUARS.

basic information:

character name: derek carson

nickname (s): ghost, roach, speedy.

face claim: ricky whittle

mutation status: gen ii mutant

birthday: january 29th

sexuality: bisexual

moral alignment: true neutral

occupation: scavenger

work sector: sector one

affiliation: the jaguar

3 positive traits: observant, self-sufficient, flexible

3 negative traits: cowardly, opportunistic, deceptive

biography (optional): coming soon.

questionnaire:

how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement?

to derek, there's always been horrors beyond the wastes, and while he'd had a longer life than most, living and scrounging for scraps, he's grateful that he was old enough to know that arriving to sol city, even with its corruption and incongrous leadership was something to behold. he loves this city, even if it terrifies him. even if his body feels like it'll erode when he stops being afraid, he loves the city. he lived outside of it, in failed settlements and a range that was consumed by rot itself, and it's a fate that he would never willingly subject himself to again.

do they trust the council's leadership? why or why not?

he trusts them, but fears their gaze and their collapse even more. derek is a man who longs for stability and now that he's finally got it, subject ot the whims of floating heads, he worries that everything will be for naught and he'll be cast back out into hell with nothing to moor him to. but right now, everything works. he has a job, he has a salary, he has a house and everything is fine—fine enough that he'll say it to himself time and time again and trust that there is a plan for it.

if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn't, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not?

it was one of the largest surprises in the world that he wasn't sent off to sector two for rationing or three for infrastructure, no—he was chosen for salvaging. it's no secret what being a mutant is to him, but having people monitoring the gene and his mutation, derek was picked for riskier work. it then did not come as a surprise that someone had scouted him, the sector's most invulnerable asset, to work for the jaguars as well. call it taking the good with the bad, but derek doesn't know which is which at this point.

what's one object that they always keep on their person?

there are things that derek doesn't want to remember from the outside, but he still remembers his family's hardships—he was old enough to understand what reaching sol city meant, and what an end to the horrors of a life that wasn't his was. so upon seeing the crest of the city, he has with him a rock, not irradiated, simply jagged and cruel, set into a ring that he twists thrice before every assignment. (he tried keeping it in his pocket, but it bit into his chest enough that he'd had some mutant fuse it to a ring in his size.)

what is your character's ability (or abilities)?

derek's ability is reflexive adaptation—simply put it means that his body reacts instinctively to anything life-threatening and immediately adapts to survive and thwart it. if he falls off a great height, his body simply becomes neutrally buoyant or it suddenly becomes impact resistant. a bullet fired at him might ricochet off a metallic carapace, or make his reaction speed extremely heightened.

are they gen i or gen ii?

his parents were both mutants, and that makes him gen ii—though it doesn't seem at all plausible, but he had learned not to ask what happened when they both were infected. it seems like a tough topic to broach and the broad strokes had painted him a well enough picture. first, his father was fine and then cured, then his mother fell to the same fate. it's half a miracle, half a lie, but derek doesn't let it bother him at all.

what can your character do? what are their strengths?

functionally, he can survive most anything that he's subjected to. survival is the most paramount thing his body knows how to do. if he starts to drown, he will float or grow gills. if subjected to radiation, he becomes immune or can synthesize energy to power his body. even normal inconveniences like blindness in the dark is compensated for immediately, either with night vision or echolocation. if his body might, for example, have to punch someone square in the jaw, it might turn hard as stone to protect itself and subdue any attackers.

what can't they do? what are their weaknesses?

while reflexive adaptation helps with surviving, it cannot help anyone else directly. a drowning man will surely drown if derek starts to drown alongside him, leaving him to dust. and a quick escape with a burst of insane speed might cause a shoddy building to collapse. in addition, his body will adapt without derek's input as well—an uncomfortable feeling that manifests when say, you're trapped under some rubble, and your physical form suddenly turns gaseous to escape. or perhaps a pierced gut will suddenly be cannibalized by your body that has now learned to eat the metal that has pierced it.

is there anything else you'd like to specify about them?

oh, derek is just consistently anxious and afraid of the future and doesn't know if that's either part of his mutation or just a problem that he has. oh well!

[sheepblood]

contradiction, prelude

Supposedly, my shepherd knew me well, though I was always on my toes, wanting to be loved and perfect all the time, bursting cotton at my seams.

These masks are my own. If I had been spoken to now by him, one month later, I would have been a foreign person. These realizations and galvanizations towards betterment exist now, but didn't then, and I'm still a thriving rabbit in the deep, behind dog's mercury, throat choked with watercress and blue brooklime.

&

I lived life quickly, scared, rushed, worried about every passing second, soft leg hurting from the thump, "I thought you were asleep, you took too long," (next time I'll be faster, spend less time working on things). "The food is taking too long, do the dishes," (no need for me to breathe, be swift). [My heart is racing, am I dying? I need to express my frustration when my heart races. The heart knows best. The heart knows pain, it will tell me where I'm wrong. It's not a beating vessel. She speaks for me. Is my heart telling me I'm lying? The clock is ticking, and I'm overdue for a confession. Oh, dear, her feelings are hurt. Blame her. Guilt yourself. Your irritation is sublime.] Did no one say the right amount of "It tastes delicious!" or "You look beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!" darling? So they didn't mean it. So you claim with a whole "heart" that you won't undermine the compliments, but you do anyway. Obsessively, you need more.

Love comes from labour, labour comes from love. I know you can't open your eyes and heart to pain and want fast results, but the world around you is moving fast, too, so you can afford to be slow.

&

I tried changing and sweeping the grime from your face because that is what I wanted: growth. I should have learned to accept it, but I was under the impression that I was here to serve you, here to create something new from old. The same way someone walks into a wreckage, hands on hips, nods, and asserts that there is beauty here. Should I have let you be? Loved it for what you were? Left the tarnish on your pocket watch?

My heart believes in your nuance, despite others saying otherwise, but I think your inability to tell me your thoughts as I do mine was a fault of your own. I want to believe you're multifaceted and aren't aware of it. Maybe I wasn't either, and I was biased, and every beautiful thing I saw in you was my own projection. Or maybe not. Or maybe not.

&

I have no reservations about my lovers. I sensed it from you, and my body could not take it. So I urged, suggested things upon you, and tried to move you in that approach.

You told me, lamb, you're so worried all the time. It'll be a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Okay, it did end, like all things, and my soft, small hands weren't enough to stop it. I was right. Now what? Now what do we do? I was right. You're gone.

&

With every new lover, I seek replication of memories in all that I do. Nostalgia drives me. I can accept the nonexistence of repetition, but I still want to create new memories that nod towards old ones, the memories I want to overwrite, but the memories being more beautiful simply by nature of being full of life, better, new - is paramount.

The bubbling brook of rabbits and lambs cannot be contained or possessed by one person. I will not let the beautiful memories be lost because I am a dreamer of the past.

And I look towards the horrors, only the horrors, of the future.

But I do not want to be. I'd rather be a creature looking forward to its next meal, never what it ate.

But I bought your favourite video games today anyway. Just as the softly smiling, green-eyed little girl at school says: "mine, mine, mine." Shh, the baby is sleeping. I want all that was yours to be mine yet better. I used to say this and capitulate in my efforts, but now I won't. Now, I won't.

I made mine for every interest of yours. Only procrastination and the fear of the end stopped it from blooming.

&

I eagerly wanted to meet you in your shallow pools. Love doesn't need exact reciprocity, so why did I always, always want it back?

Transactional at heart because I feared being loathed and let alone. The regret of giving so much and receiving little. That is fear.

Oh, hey. In the end, I gave up everything anyway.

&

I analyzed your every breath, and I doubt anyone's ever looked at you so closely or ever will. I held you in my arms, begging to be held back every day, and when you had me, I felt like it was heaven and never enough. Reflect, darling - am I ungrateful? Was I a chore? A body to lean on?

I need reasons. Why do you love me? Just because is never enough. It will never be enough.

&

Maybe things were fluttering down due to outside opinion, something you resented, but something I needed to ensure I wasn't going mad.

See, I ask everyone alive to reassure my reality, to build it with me stone by stone. When people respond to my questions, it's as if they're telling me what to do in my universe, so I take it wholeheartedly. Suggestions are not truths; their opinions are not gospel, but how else do I prove that I think you are worthy?

(So if someone says you're doing wrong, are you? Am I, for believing them and not doing anything about it, except squeezing out my disdain, regretting encroaching upon something that could have been let alone?)

&

Why do you illustrate your life in broad strokes of detail? Before, I envied that way of thinking. Blurring out emotional details and giving soulless explanations seemed like something I could envy. I wanted to exalt you for it, but I became afraid of what I couldn't see.

The details, the details, the details. You skim over my illustrious depictions of things; keep what you can in reserved memory. Do you think? At all?

When you do, why do I become inordinately angry? Why do I ignore you? Why is it taciturn?

This lamb has lots of fleece to cycle through. Cashmere, where he is confident in his mind. Plain wool, where he cannot trust his own opinion, and determines the opposite. If perception is reality, then the opposite of everything the bellwether says must be true.

&

So, anyway, why did she leave you?

What happened in that half a decade from the emergence of youth to the toiling of your adulthood?

19 to 24 is a long time.

19 to 24, 19 to 24, the ages we met.

I thought you were different when you told me you didn't like having sex with people you didn't love, so why the fuck is that normal to you?

I feel guilt if I don't love someone. I feel resentment. I only do "it" because I'm in pain. You do it for hedonism. You do it for hedonism, so somehow I can be absolved.

I want to kill you. Using my body when you didn't love me anymore. And if you did, it wasn't the right kind of love. You're the worst. I can never take that back, but you never took anything, so here we are again.

I spilled my guts so you would, too. So you would, too, someday. Maybe someday. Maybe you'd agree that what happened to me was wrong. The way I agree with the people I speak to; their suffering is my own. As if it would fix anything.

Can't imagine suffering like that with you.

Five whole years.

We're all thinking about it. Or is it just me?

&

Around the world, I collected pieces of my heart to share with you, something I wanted us to enjoy together. Many needed to be displayed, yet were not, and I resented what I purchased.

Did I want you to change, or was it unreasonable for me to ask you to? Namely, material doesn't represent love to you, yet it does a little to me. Crows enjoy fetching glitter and gold in the same way I do. The crow in me bought you many meaningful items - in part, to overcompensate, but they were meaningful parts of a larger picture. I could lose it at any time.

My love language is everything. I need parts of material, I need your body, I need your time, I need you to serve me, and I need to give you everything with my whole blood all the same.

I lost you too. Then, were you material?

&

Despite my suffocating wardens, you were my first real lover I had the confidence to admit I wanted to enjoin with, though I was filled with hesitation and often remarked that I longed for our friend stage to have been more prolonged. I was under their heel, I risked everything for you. All I wanted was for you to meet them and lie about being okay with engaging in my practices.

But you are a complete person in that sense. You do not change. You prefer your lonesome, maybe a love vampire that seeks nourishment from my breast. I wonder if you were authentic in that.

Authenticity to me was you not responding with the overflowing energy as I did to things because you didn't have to. (In the same tow, authenticity was the opposite of that). I respected your gloom and tight-lipped speak. A part of me respects your refusal to change, but a true lover goes out of their comfort zone.

You told me you did not think you could meet my needs.

Honestly, I never would have expected such honesty. And I showed it by pretending you didn't say it, that you didn't mean it.

Honestly, not to be arrogant, but does intellect scare you?

&

"Sorry for the trouble," you tell my friend. A comment no one would think anything about except me, maybe.

It botches my mind that what could be your last words were to him.

We didn't have an official date where you asked me out. I wanted to try it again. (Will you continue to date me?) I'd said, but you dismissed me. I thought it would be beautiful to begin from nothing, in the middle of something.

Are you scared of how much one can remember?

"Obviously I want to see you, but there's nothing I can do about it."

The things that were not hurdles before have become hurdles now. The love drained, the skips in the forest alone and shielded from interference were churlish and a mark of a rebellion I never experienced in my youth. It was never fun to sneak out. I wanted to be yours for nights upon nights, and you'll never be able to now. Will she have you like that? I beg of you to tell me.

You never fucking will. It'll never be my business what you do now. I eat, I eat, I eat.

&

I do not insist on lukewarm tendencies from men. I knew you had commitment issues and it wouldn't work for me, but maybe I needed to be more casual like you, so fine. I invested in potential, thinking my love could make you commit, but I had it all wrong. My heart was too heavy. I broke down for a month. Maybe I'll continue to.

But now I've learned to not remark or reply to everything, as scary as that can be. People can listen without showing it, but it angered me to think that was acceptable, once.

I am excessively in tune to your subtleties like they're the most elaborate things. Your eyes sung to me, your lips consumed me, and looking into your pale body was like a window. I ate every part of you. I eat, I eat, I eat.

Your next lover will be simpler, and you'll be relieved.

Is there a separation of the self in love? Why do we pretend we are awake together if we all sleep alone?

When you didn't want to meet my mother, I knew you'd been mourning for a while.

[intolerable-sushi]

i have a beta prompt

Fem! Beta is in highschool and she is a bad bitch who is seductive,goth and sarcastic and isn't afraid of insult anyone who try to abuse or bully her for be a beta. but she is very oblivious and don't notice how she have some of students with the eyes on her as a potential mate/couple

Valeria couldn't help but bristle as she walked down the crowded hallway. Everyone was talking amongst themselves by their lockers or outside their respective class. No one was out right looking at her, but she could feel their eyes. If she was anyone else she could brush it off as paranoia, but considering her way of dress and her second gender, she knew people were looking.

Valeria dressed in all black every day without fail. At the moment she was wearing a calf length dress, and a corset around her waist. Her makeup was simple with black lipstick and eyeliner. Most people found her style odd, or a little disturbing if she choose to were any of her bone necklaces. Being a Beta didn't really help either, as betas were actually a rarity in this district, with most attending an all beta school on the other side of the town. So Valeria stuck out like a sore thumb.

But Valeria didn't really care for the opinion of her peers or anyone for that matter. She learned at young age that she had to stick up for not only herself, but her fellow Betas. Alphas and Omegas would look for any reason to mock or harass them anyway, so what did their sneers and whispers matter. She was doing just fine with her small circle of friends. It was her last year any way, so she wouldn't have to deal with the stares and whispers for much longer.

"Valeria!! Valeria, slow done!!" The sound of running feet echoed through the hallway as the feminine voice called after her. Valeria turned to see a young beta stopping in front of her panting. "Geeze, why do you walk so fast?! Class isn't for another 10 minutes, you need to relax, honestly!"

"Good morning to you too, Cassie" Valeria said with an amused smirk. Cassie was the complete opposite of Valeria in both style and personality. Young with a face full of freckles and a smile that has burned the eyes of any who gaze upon it to long, Cassie has been mistaken for a Omega many times. Her short stature and her playful clothes didn't help her either. The duck patterned dressed she had decided to wear that day told everyone that her personality was a near replica of Mabel Pines. Cassie was also a social butterfly, flittering to a fro, from one group to another getting all the latest gossip and learning all the details she could about her classmates. She would often rave to Valeria about whatever people talked about, whether that be about a new book someone was reading, or about the latest relationship drama that has captured the school's attention. Valeria honestly zoned out most of the time and just let the junior go on.

"Hey, are you listening to me?!"

Ah, she had zoned out again. Valeria refocused to see Cassie with her cheeks puffed out, as she did when she was annoyed.

"As I was saying, you are way to tense! Even with the scent blockers I could smell you from the other side of the hall. Their still serving breakfast we should go grab some." Cassie suggested as the two began walking towards the cafeteria.

"Sorry, I'm just- I'm kind of- UGH! I'm so tired of all the stares and whispers. Normally its fine, or whatever yaknow. But, ah- I don't know, its getting under my skin today." Valeria ranted. She couldn't help but glance at the other students that they passed. Something just felt off today, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

" I mean, I won't lie to you and say people don't talk. They do, but that's just how people are. Also they actually aren't saying anything bad. No one really knows how to approach you so they talk amongst themselves," Cassie explained as she patted Valeria on the back, " I have some folks I want to introduce you to, you'll love them I promise. It'll help clear a lot of this up." Valeria looked at Cassie with a raised eyebrow. That's probably why everyone was acting off. Most of the folks here can't hide a secret to save their life, their scents give them away almost immediately. Valeria guessed that Cassie's little planned had spread throughout the school and everyone was waiting with baited breathe to see her reaction. Valeria could feel a headache coming on as she began to regret getting up that morning.

"It'll be fine I promise!!" Cassie almost squealed as she dragged Valeria into the cafeteria. Cassie stopped as they passed the doors and scanned the area before she continued to drag Valeria over to a table full of people.

As they sat down Valeria recognized the people at the table. Callum and Jacob, two alphas, and Bella and Amy, two Omegas. Callum was a tall even for an Alpha, but was a bit scrawny. He was quiet and hunched over to make himself smaller. It made sense since he often looked angry when he's actually nervous. Valeria had a class with him last year, and once the two had gotten comfortable Callum was nice enough, so she didn't really mind his presence.

Jacob was the poster child for what people believe an Alpha should be. He was tall, buff, and loud. From the few conversations Valeria has had with him, he mainly just talked about sports. He wasn't rude, just not the type person she would spend her time with.

Amy had a personality similar to Cassie. A social butterfly who talked to anyone and everyone making her very popular. She was a bit tall for an Omega and very toned from being in the cheerleading squad. She was also very assertive when it comes to something she wanted, but she was overall very kind from what Valeria has heard.

Valeria didn't know much about Bella as she was a junior like Cassie. She was quiet, quieter than Callum. Even as Valeria sat down she could see the young girl shrink further into her hoodie. She appeared rather nervous to be around Valeria. She felt a little bad for scaring the poor girl.

"Good morning, guys!!!" Cassie chirped as Valeria mumbled a good morning. A chorus of good mornings rang out from around the table before Cassie, Amy and Jacob began to talk amongst themselves.

"Hello, Valeria. It's nice to see you again." said Callum, giving Valeria a small smile.

Valeria gave a polite smile in return. " Hello Callum, how have you been?"

Callum shrugged in response. "I've been alright. Not much going on. I actually wanted to ask if y-"

"Valeria!! We're heading to the park after school today. Why don't you join us? We can even grab a bite to eat after." Amy interrupts. She looks up at Valeria with puppy dog eyes. Valeria's nose began to burn as Amy's scent began to invade her nostrils. It was sweet like poppy flowers and perfume.

Valeria turned her head, " Thanks, but no thanks. I've gotta sign up for tutoring today, and I'll be busy after school in the next few weeks."

Amy seemed to deflate at that. Her scent dulled a little and some of the sweetness disappeared. Valeria couldn't help but be puzzled by Amy's change in scent, was she that upset?

"Aw come on, Val," Valeria nose scrunched at the nickname, "you barely hang out with anyone outside of school. Live a little!" Jacob said as he leaned forward with a smirk. Valeria could feel a snarl building up in the back or her throat. Of course he assumed she didn't hang out with anyone, typical Alpha.

" I DO hang out with people outside of school. I just don't hang out with you. Is that why you assume I'm just some friendless loser? That this was some olive branch to the Beta freak? I should have known." Valeria sneered.

Jacob's face fell, " No, wait, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that-"

"Save it. I'm heading to class." Valeria got up, sling her bag over her shoulder before stalking out of the Cafeteria.

The group watched Valeria leave in silence. "Nice going Jacob." Amy hissed as he put his face in his hands.

"Hey, come on guys. Valeria is just a bit high strung. I'll talk to her later. It just takes time for her to warm up to people." Cassie said trying to calm down the distraught group.

"Does she really hate us that much?" Bella finally spoke up, eyes on the brink of tears.

Cassie let out a sigh as she rubbed her hands together, "She doesn't hate you. She just has a hard time trusting Alphas and Omegas. There are a lot of people who haven't really been kind to her, or any of us really. So she has a lot of walls up, and she's pretty protective." Cassie explained.

The group let out a collective sigh. The atmosphere became tense with Valeria's departure as Callum and Amy quietly seethed at Jacob. The group weren't really friends with each other, and were only together for one reason and one reason only; to gain Valeria's attention and affections. They couldn't really do it alone, as Valeria would politely rebuff them. Cassie, being the romantic that she was, offered to help them get into Valeria's good graces and then back off from there. So, really they were all in competition with each other, and it was a waiting game to see if Valeria would reciprocate any of there feelings.