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cybrsan · 11 months ago

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Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning.

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday?

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas.

It makes you sick.

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?"

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things.

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny.

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling.

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse.

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified.

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook.

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired.

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away.

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls.

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you.

Jungkook.

Your Astrom.

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal.

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination.

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky.

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications.

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face.

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious.

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer.

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod.

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room.

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi."

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will.

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night.

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep.

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day.

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest.

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself.

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope.

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?"

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him.

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into.

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced.

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since.

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop.

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember.

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead."

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell.

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him.

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands.

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!”

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.”

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments.

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?”

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment."

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you.

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings.

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you.

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you."

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N."

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook."

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful."

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?"

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?"

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold.

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it."

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out.

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?"

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?"

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter."

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay."

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do."

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed."

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important."

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately."

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation.

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less."

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive.

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small."

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them."

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related."

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes."

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?"

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes."

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out.

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?"

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?"

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.”

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?”

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back."

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome."

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it."

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring?

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach."

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you."

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in.

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't.

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady.

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second."

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now.

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case."

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around."

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter.

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least.

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word.

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction.

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done."

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting."

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable."

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows.

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail.

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him.

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words.

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended."

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?"

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me."

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope.

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life.

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word.

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen.

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?"

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him.

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—”

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm.

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson."

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say.

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?"

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful."

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side.

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls.

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently.

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.”

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand.

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real."

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?"

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated."

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred."

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.”

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?"

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist."

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu."

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest.

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!"

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back.

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?"

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it."

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.”

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright."

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him.

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?"

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts.

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side."

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?"

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him.

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!"

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply.

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter."

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human."

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words."

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know."

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?"

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer.

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch.

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin.

"You aren't in pain?”

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break."

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?"

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe."

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like."

"I want to hear it again."

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest.

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire.

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you."

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs.

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words.

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire.

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure.

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—"

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together.

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm.

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please."

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed.

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over.

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—"

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth.

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too."

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you.

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you.

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words.

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him.

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep.

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much."

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones.

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down.

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly.

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say.

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go.

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment.

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean.

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits.

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you."

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook au #my fic #collab

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autumnmist101 · 25 days ago

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Wild Life Fanfic

Hi! This is a story that's rattled around in my brain for the last couple weeks. Before you read, there are a few things to note.

On breaks and in-between sessions, the server is turned to peaceful, all cameras are shut off, and wild cards are deactivated. This is to preserve food and lives. Any lives lost during these times are restored back to the player before the session begins/continues.

Pearl has L.I.M.S. (Lag Induced Muscle Spasms) I seen a post by @hermitcraftheadcanons and they talked about how lag is an illness and how Aussie ping could be like a chronic illness in the Minecraft universe. I took this and ran with it.

These are in fact the characters not content creators. The characters are staying in their Traffic personas during recording but being themselves off camera. This will make more sense as you read.

Nothing happens if they do go out of character, but because the sessions are timed, they need to get as much usable footage as possible.

Enough of the author rambles! Onto the story!

_______________________________________

“So, you two have been going around, mildly making people our enemies and neither of you two are on red yet!” Scott scolds to the two mischief makers in front of him. Pearl rolls her head back, tuning out her teammate’s voice. The session had already been rough for her and now they have a fight to deal with.

“I’m close enough to red to warrant some mischief, and it’s not like everyone’s gonna stay allied to the end anyways.” Pearl states, silently wishing their comms would go off alerting them of the break, until then, they needed to remain in character.

“Still though, we don’t want to be making mo-” Cleo starts before freezing. Pearl mentally readies herself for the onslaught of pain she was about to endure.

“-more enemies.” They finish once the lag spike passes. Pearl leans onto the sheep fence as a sharp stabbing pain shot through her abdomen. Cleo lifts a hand from her hip, before placing it back. Good. Stay in character.

“We’re friends with literally most, if not half, the server. I-I’m sure we can do with some enemies.” The Aussie defends checking the time. Two minutes till break.

“Pearl, making enemies is how we die! And with the wild cards, who knows what kind of things they can do to us!”

“You worry to mu—” Pearl’s voice caught in her throat. Another spike. A sharper pain now.

“Much, Scott.” She finishes, now gripping onto the fence, her nails digging into the wood. A moment of concern flashes into Scott’s eyes before he blinks it away. Stay. In. Character.

“I worry just enough, and I don’t want you two putting our team in danger. We can do that when we all get to red.”

“But Scott, it’s been going so well!” Impulse finally chimes in, “Get one here. Get one there, and little by little we get to the end.”

“Yeah, then we have to fight each other.” Cleo brings up as Pearl looks back at the clock. One minute.

“Not like you haven’t killed your teammates before.” Pearl huffs as the pain slowly begins to ease.

“You're one t-” Pearl flinches as the pain shoots through her again.

“To talk, Pearl.” Cleo says, doing her best to ignore Pearl’s swaying as Impulse checks the time. Thirty seconds.

“I . . .” Pearl breathes doing everything to ignore the pain of her stomach, “didn’t kill a . . . a teammate, Cleo. . . I . . . killed . . . an enemy. . . You. . . and Scott. . . back. . . backstabbed me.”

“We would have had to fight each other anyways.” Cleo waves off, “It was us, Gem and Martyn. She was going after him, and you were the closest one too us.”

“St– Still . . . a backstab . . . though.” Pearl breathes before all of their comms buzzed. Pearl lets out a pained whine as she drops to her knees holding her stomach. Her friends immediately race to her side.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Cleo says before another spike comes. It was a long one this time, a solid 20 seconds. Once the world unfreezes, Pearl falls onto Scott.

“Get her in bed!”

“Cl-Cleo.” Pearl whines as her soulmate lifts her.

“Impulse, best be making– Oh you are.” Cleo stops turning to find the imp already with bowls and ingredients over a crafting bench.

“I got it, but best let Grian know we'll need a bit longer of a break.”

“That’s not necessary.” Pearl’s voice rang out, sounding almost too pained to speak.

“It is necessary, and we are doing it. One way or another.” Cleo says, their voice stern. She heads to the far edge of the island before looking at her comm to see she had missed some messages.

Grian> Everyone okay after that lag spike?

Renthedog> All good here.

Ethoslab > that was a big one.

GoodtimewithScar> *couf* Thats waht she said *couf*

SolidarityGaming> Good here

Gem> Me and Joel are alright.

Grain> Impulse? Cleo? How’s your group?

Cloe takes a breath. Hoping their message wasn’t going to have the whole server come sprinting over.

Zombiecleo> Impulse, Scott, and I are okay, but the lag hit Pearl pretty hard. She’s in bed now, but may need a bit longer of a break.

Pearlescentmoon: I’m fine!

Grian> omw

SolidarityGaming> same

“Hey.”

“Ah!” Cleo screams turning to find BigB. They slap his arm. “BigB! You know I hate that!” The man giggles.

“Sorry. Sorry. Forget you scare easily.” He pauses, “How’s Pearl?”

“Her stomach seems to have gotten the brunt of it. She’s lying down now, at least, she should be.” Cleo explains looking into the distance. They bite their lip for BigB to pat their shoulder.

“Hey, she’ll be alright. I mean, yeah, she’ll need to take it easy on this next part of the session, but. . . She’s tough. She’ll make it through.”

“Yeah.” Cloe breathes before the two start their way over to the others. They find Tango, Skizz and Gem had decided to pop over unannounced. The latter coming to apparently shake the daylights out of Grian.

“FIX. YOUR. GAME! FIX. YOUR. GAME! YOU CRIPTIC BIRDMAN! SO HELP ME!”

“G-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-m!” Grian tries to say.

“The lag spike nearly killed me! It nearly killed Joel! It practically could have killed the whole server! And I know you had something to do with it! So, you’re going to fix it, you feathered freak!”

“Alright Gem, no killing the bird man on break. Save it for the cameras.” Cleo says for the fox hybrid to release the red sweatered avian. She storms back to the patient at hand for the zombie to look at the main admin.

“So, what exactly caused the spikes to happen?”

“Heh, um,” Grian chuckles, ducking his head, “would you believe me if I said chickens?” Cleo pauses folding her arms.

“Strangely enough, yes, but I have a feeling that wasn’t the case this time.”

“That’s because it wasn’t.” Grian smiles nervously, “Creepers were blowing up our chests. We were lucky none of us died on that last one.”

“I’m sure you’d replace the lives if you had. I mean the break was already called before it happened. Just needed time for the mode to change.” Cleo pauses looking over at the small crowd of nurses tending to their begrudging patient. “Will her recovery be long? She'll be insistent on getting back to work.”

“With a spike like that, she'll need to take it slow for a while. Probably two, maybe three days. Should be back to normal by then, that is, as long as no more spikes happen.” Grian explains before the two walk over to join the chaotic party.

“It's dandelion so it will help more than regular. Just remember to drink it slowly.” Impulse says giving a bowl to Pearl as Big B sits on the end of the bed, looking in his inventory.

“Muscle relaxer Muscle relaxer. Hmmm, maybe if we combined pufferfish and glow-berries? Or snow and carrots?”

“What got hurt Poppers?" Skizz questions, standing overhead, "Head? Stomach? How many fingers am I holding up?” He holds up two fingers before Jimmy chimes in.

“Are you warm enough Pearl? I can craft a blanket if you'd like.”

"And I can get a campfire going." Tango states going to chop down a tree as Scott starts up a brewing stand.

"Are you sure it was just your stomach muscles affected? Your back's fine? What about your limbs?"

“Oh my Notch.” Pearl says, looking away from the group. Gem chuckles before turning to the mother hens.

“Hey guys?” The four stop what they're doing and look at the Canadian, “Maybe you should try to find some snow? It will help relieve some of the pain in her joints.” There's a pause.

"Powder snow for Pearlie!" Tango yells rushing off the island.

"For Pearlie!" The others cheer racing after him, dragging Grian along. Cleo chuckles before turning their attention back to the disgruntled Australian.

“Did you enjoy the attention, Love?” They joke sitting on the side of the bed. Pearl rolls her eyes, hoping her face wasn't too red.

“When’s the break supposed to end?” She questions as Gem pets her hair back.

“Soon enough. As of now, you need rest.”

“I need everyone to stop making such a big deal about this.” Pearl huffs, wiping soup from her chin. “It was just a spasm. It’s gone now. I’m fine.”

“Pearl, you had four of them. Back-to-back I might add. and with that last one I thought you were going to pass out.”

“According to Scott, I did.” She huffs, rolling her eyes again, “But look, I’ll take it easy for the next part of the session. I have that storage room I want to build anyways.”

The two red heads glance at each other. They knew Pearl well enough to know that, while she could spend twenty minutes deciding on what flower to put in a flowerpot, she was also likely to get a build burst and expand said storage room twenty blocks in all directions.

“How about this,” Cleo pauses, brushing some hair from Pearl’s face, “build the storage room, but you have to take five-to-ten-minute breaks every thirty minutes.”

"Can't it be every hour?"

"Nope." Gem pops, "Every thirty minutes, that way you're not overworking yourself."

"Fine." Pearl sighs, not happy with the arrangement but it was better than staying up here and farming.

"Good." Cleo smiles, cupping Pearl's face. "We worry about you, Love."

"I know." Pearl mutters, snuggling into their hand, "I jus-" The world stops again.

"Ah!" Pearl whines curling inwards. Gem takes the bowl as Cleo helps her to lay on her side.

"Ah. Guess they. . . . found snow."

"I'll kill them when they get back." Gem states rubbing circles on Pearl's shoulder. Cleo questions if there's anything they can do to help.

"Magma cream might work?" Gem pauses, "Heat is best for stomach muscles. Honestly, I should have thought of it earlier."

"Ah, with the lot that was here fussing about, I don't blame you for not thinking of it." Cleo says opening a chest. "I'll be surprise if they don't come back with a mountain's worth of snow for you, Pearl."

"Great, build a snow tower out of it." She hums, "Did Griba extend the break? Felt like it should have ended by now."

"He did. We have ten extra minutes." Cleo comes back and sits down, "Meaning you have more time to rest."

"Easier said than done." Pearl pauses as she turns onto her back. Gem runs her fingers through the Aussie's hair as Cleo applies the cream. "Why did it have to be L.I.M.S.?"

"Because the universe needed to nerf you somehow. You're too powerful otherwise." Gem explains, "Now rest up. Gonna be a long rest of the session if you don't."

"Gonna be a long rest of break." Pearl pauses before giving a small smile, "Thanks for this though."

"Of course, Love." Cleo says, smiling down at her before their comms buzz.

Grian> Incoming!

Tango> Stack of snow blocks for Pearlie!

Skizzleman> And we picked up more visitors! :D

“Oh, for the love of Void!”

Hi again! So, I've been half MIA for the last. . . . idk how long. . . . and there are reasons. Family stuff, Halloween things but also . . . the toxic-ish GGG discourse at the start of WL . . . Didn't like it. Didn't like seeing it. Didn't like how reading it made me feel and I didn't want to be dragged into it by posting my own head-cannons and such. Luckily, things have cooled down. So, I will possibly be back to posting when I can.

As for this story, I wanted some hurt/comfort, and to be reminded that while they may fight on camera, at the end of the day, they are all still friends who love and care for each other, and that's what matters. <3

#pearlescentmoon #zombiecleo #geminitay #scott smajor #impulsesv #grian #bigbstatz #skizzleman #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #traffic life series #trafficblr #wild life smp

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myslutwritings · 1 year ago

Note

Hello? Ah, I think I put my requests in the wrong area, I got confused and put them in 'Submit A Post' instead! My apologise, Ahem! I shall repeat one of my requsts here. If it's not much of a bother....So, my first request was how would the upper moons (Plus Hantengu clones) react to an S/O who is allergic to the sun? Like they have Solar Urticaria which gives them, and I quote here, 'causes an itchy rash or hives that appear on any skin that has been exposed to the sun' and it hurts them a lot

➤ Uppermoons with a S/O who suffers from Solar Urticaria

➤ SFW headcanons

including: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, and Hantengu clones

•

(not proof read)

Muzan

Your first mistake was giving a chance to the demon king himself and your second was keeping this little illness of yours a secret.

Literally your explanation behind for not being honest about your situation is mostly because you’re scared shitless of this man half of the time..

Because you’re a human and Muzan’s adored S/O he does also have high expectations for you when it comes to looking for the blue spider lily.

You’re human, walking in broad daylight shouldn’t be an issue? He sees no problem whatsoever! This will benefit him after all.

So, when you’re hesitant to walk outside the man grows immensely confused?

First of, how dare you disobey him and what are you not telling him?

There is absolutely no reason to keep it hidden because sooner or later Muzan will find out eventually so what’s the point? He isn’t an idiot.

Just the main explanation he didn’t notice at first is because he was focusing on more important matters. He’s an extremely busy man after all.

Soon, you inform him of your ginormous problem.

May feel a tad bit guilty for not noticing at first and on his end it’s embarrassing for coming off so dense.

Your condition is not that entirely different to a demons.

Anyway, congratulations, you just gave him the perfect opportunity to turn you into a demon.

Probably won’t be too happy if you refuse.. Muzan hates when those disagree with him because this man has the mentality that he’s always correct despite his tactics being morally wrong..

Kokushibo

Kokushibo is an introverted, an expressionless, and quite eerie demon. But do not let that fool you for him being a brainless fool.

Koku happens to be very observant.

Cares for you strongly despite his severe lack of affection. He always has a sharp eye on you.

So it doesn’t take him too terribly long to take notice of your avoidance to the sunlight.

Yeah, now he’s going ti be curious.

But instead of immediately asking you first, instead he’ll observe you from afar to find out for himself, analyzing your every move, waiting for your darkest secrets to spill at any given moment.

His plan was a complete fiasco because in turn he found out nothing. Only came off as a creepy stalker.

He may become frustrated, give up and just demand answers from you himself. Wont even ask, just will straight up demand you to tell him everything.

No point in lying about it because he isn’t idiotic.

Kokushibos reaction whenever you inform him of your allergy will be somewhat similar to Muzan’s.

Offers to transform you into a demon because it isn’t like they’ll be a striking difference, you know?

However, Kokushibo is shockingly not the type to force you into demonic nature if you’re against losing your humanity.

He may view your reason as dumb and “typical human behavior” but it’s safe to say that he’ll still love you and won’t turn you without your consent or knowledge.

Instead, Kokushibo will help you deal with your allergy in other ways which are actually beneficial.

Douma

Takes awhile to notice, out of all the uppermoons he’s the most dense, especially with inability to feel proper emotions.

With his consistent work he has to perform in the cult he has very little time with you in general.

But whenever he shares those little moments with you he savors them. It’s his only escape from the cult he unknowingly despises so much.

Douma is another observer, but in the most creepiest way possible. Makes it known that he’s a full-on stalker.

One thing he will immediately notice is that you’re repulsed by the sun. You even prefer colder weather and only ever exit the temple in the dead of night!

How cute, you’re the most demonic human he’s ever met!

Douma isn’t too fascinated by it at first nor does he care until he finds himself frequently fantasizing about it all the time.

As the thoughts nag on, Douma just kindly asks you himself.

Ah, so you’re basically allergic to the sun? Haha! how eccentric.

Cue the horrendous jokes, an increase in teasing.

Deep down, an unknown part of him is surprisingly worried about you. But of course he’ll pretend he’s not. After all, these emotions are foreign to him and he ain’t too fond of this paranoia he’s experiencing which only grows stronger.

You are Douma’s beloved S/O, his prized possession!

And like the others this menace will offer you to give up your humanity and join the demons to hopefully rise to the upper ranks.

I mean, you’re no different from a demon! Douma sees absolutely no problem with this!

This is his own special little way of him ‘helping’ you.

Besides, he does desire for you to be at his side for all eternity!

If you accept his offer, he’s beyond thrilled, overwhelmed with joy.

If you decline, Douma is visibly disappointed..not satisfied. Isn’t too fond of this feeling he’s experiencing the moment you reject his kind offer.

Very well, be that way. His feelings for you won’t change! However, so expect him to be extra overprotective. He makes sure to keep you away from the outdoors and the two of you only visit the great outdoors when the sun is down.

Akaza

Akaza is already overprotective enough as it is. Once he finds out of your condition his overprotective behavior will only increase.

There was a time where you did take a step outside on a warm summer day and immediately you break out. You feel lightheaded, break out in wrenched rashes, your delicate skin grows irritated, you look like Nezuko burning in the sunlight minus the flames.

Panicked boyfriend mode=activated.

Immediately, you and Akaza retrieve indoors. Demons and their speed. You didn’t even notice you were picked up and brought to safety until you were surrounded by the interior of your lovely home.

Akaza is astonishingly experienced when it comes to treating others who are ill or have conditions. No, he’s not a doctor. Akaza just knows how by heart.

Now, he doesn’t know everything. But he knows enough to make you feel better and not break out again!

As he treats your pruritus and erythema, Akaza keeps in mind to be very gentle with you. Even if you possess a high pain tolerance Akaza will ALWAYS be benign when it involves his lovely partner.

Poor baby is still shaken up, therefore his hands are having a mild seizure as he treats you.

Moving on, after that unfortunate incident your boyfriend has a couple questions for what the actual fuck just occurred today

He’s a commutative partner and is a bit disappointed you didn’t inform him prior.

Akaza won’t be mad forever though. He just loves you too much to stay mad at you so therefore your apology if accepted.

However, please tell him things next time. You aren’t aware of how much they really matter to him.

Yes, he as well is a cold hearted demon but at least he has a heart. Unlike his subordinates who have an insatiable hunger for human flesh like yours.

Akaza is able to control himself, possess morals to this day, no matter what happens he is always going to care about you and will take care of you whenever it’s needed!

Hantengu Clones

Sekido

He found out about your condition by accident on one unfortunate day.

Springs into action by dragging your ass back indoors and treating your delicate skin which reacted as the sun made contact with it.

However, afterwards he puts off his caring act and grows increasingly frustrated and concerned.

He only expresses anger so fuck the concerned bit. Doesn’t even admit it. But you can tell he’s worried for you in a.. angry way?

Sekido’s temper only rises the moment he realized you kept this a secret from him.

You two have been together for how long? Yet you still keep secrets? why? Do you not trust him?

Immediately assumes the worse of the worst and lashes out at you.

Yeah, he isn’t too happy and being understanding isn’t his strong suit either.

Communication has always been a problem for him.

He is mostly just lashing out because deep down he’s hurt you didn’t tell him.

Sekido is terrifyingly protective over you so there is yet again another reason he’s pissed off you never told him of your Urticaria prior.

Doesn’t want you hurt physically or emotionally in anyway.

He’s hurting you right now emotionally thought but literally screaming at you-

Moving on, you finally manage to calm this angry bastard down.

He doesn’t know a lot of your condition so you elaborate it to him.

Honestly, he understands, especially being a demon and all. Y’all are basically similar.

Sekido finally calms down the further you explain.

He loves you so he’s understanding. Be sure to stay telling him things though please😔😔

Aizetsu

As y’all’s relationship began, you inform Aizetsu of your condition, knowing well it’s important for him to know of this due to him being your beloved boyfriend.

Aizetu’s brain stops out of sheer panic.

I swear, he’s always so worried about you in general! Now it’s only increasing!

Pities you.

What a pity that you’re a mere human and can’t even set foot outside and feel the warm sunlight on your face..

He honestly makes you feel worse about it which is a red flag in your opinion.

Like hello?? you just need him to understand. You don’t need all that pity nonsense!

You just simply explain to him how that doesn’t help and it only causes him to feel more horrible.

Fortunately for you though, he apologizes.

Becomes even more protective of you then he already is.

Thankfully you never had an incident because you take good care of yourself.

Aizetsu also keeps a sharp eye on you even though you don’t need it.

Like Sekido, he relates to you.

Lowkey craves for you to become a demon like him.

But at the same time he doesn’t want you to lose your humanity because he knows that’s very important to you. Plus, it would upset you. Aizetsu despises seeing you upset.

Karaku

To put it bluntly, Karaku may come off as a horrendous dumbass and menace but he isn’t actually an idiot.

Knows what’s going on, what he’s doing, he isn’t exactly dense nor misunderstanding. Especially when it comes to his precious S/O.

So whenever you inform him of your condition, explain to him what it means, etc. He confesses he already knew something was up prior but waited for you to tell him yourself.

Karaku is honestly happy to know that at least you two can relate with the whole sun dilemma.

He even teases you about it here and there. I mean, he’s a demon so what do you expect?

Earns a slap in the face if he ever taunts you or teases you.

Ok, ok, for your sake he’ll stop with the immature jokes. 🙄

Karaku is highly aware on how your little condition upsets you and how you deeply desire to feel the warm sunlight beaming down onto your delicate skin without having this troubling condition.

He is always there for you to cheer you up whenever you get insecure about it!

Even becomes even more protective of you.

He knows damn well you aren’t stupid enough to walk outside on purpose but he still loves the feeling of looking out for you and being there for you.

He’s cocky about it too.

Karaku always reminds you that he still loves you despite your condition. He knows how insecure you are about it and you always overthink that he’ll get bored of you and leave which isn’t the case. He loves you for you! Even though he teases you like hell.

Urogi

Similar to Karaku, this mf is cocky as hell about it.

Says shit like; “Damn really? Guess we have more in common than i thought baby.”

He’s so goofy. A silly lil demon. 💀💀

Also one positive wack. Attempts to help you develop a slightly more positive mindset. He knows how negative you can get due to your condition which you have a burning hatred for.

Deep down, he’s lowkey a upset for you, he wishes you and him could walk under the sun together. But covers it up with his happy facade.

Reminds you that you’re like him and that he doesn’t see the problem. I mean, he still loves you and has even more in common with you!

He tries his very gosh-darn hardest to make you feel better about it.

Since you cannot appreciate the sun, Urogi and you go out in the evening and have wholesome small dates!

Unfortunately, y’all can’t really go into town cause of his demonic form

BUTTTT you both have picnic dates under the moonlight. He finds a way to make you appreciate the night/the moonlight instead of sun.

Constantly reassures you that it’ll be alright!

Urogi will also pick you up and flies you around on his back to have fun!

Now for the semi-red flags: He has the strong habit of teasing you. Not intentionally because he enjoys hurting you or anything.. He just assumes ahead of time that it’ll make you feel a tad bit better!

Is always on a mission to witness you at least crack a smile at his childish humor.

By the way, his teasing doesn’t benefit you in the slightest..

If you’re okay with his jokes and are able to joke with him then you two just bond over that and you soon get over your insecurities.

However, if you cannot handle it and are sensitive, which is completely valid in your case. Urogi will tone it done and search for other solutions to help you out!

But he does sometimes find it amusing when you proceed to call the sun ‘evil’ and hide from it when you’re in a bad mood..

Yeah the sun is evil. Bro agrees with you. 😡😡

Omg, sorry this took so long to finish! I hope i wrote these headcanons met your expectations and i hope you enjoyed reading them:) bye-bye! (also this ain’t proof-read so sry if there are any typos)

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

Text

the met gala

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.

an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now

songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift

previous part linked here

Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you.

And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song.

He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it.

“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions.

“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show.

It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating.

Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.

Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.

“Mika? What’s wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?”

“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-”

“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?”

“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-”

“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.”

“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?”

He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now.

“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.”

Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together.

“Hi Con.”

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?”

“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-”

“Not her.” Eren whispers.

“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.”

The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk.

Could always get you to talk.

“You tried Levi?”

“Yes.”

“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ”

“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.”

“Connie?”

“Yeah?”

The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.

“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed.

“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.”

“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.”

“Yeah man. Sure.”

Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren.

Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom.

The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time.

“What?”

“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video.

The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for.

His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times.

The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side.

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?

His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well.

“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?”

Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke.

“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.”

“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.”

Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head.

“You know, you still do that.”

“Do what?”

“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.”

You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after.

“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?”

“Perfect. Wear this one.”

“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.”

“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf.

"You're no help." you whine.

"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."

He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress.

“Love?”

“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door.

“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.”

He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin.

“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.”

“Oh? Really?”

Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on.

“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.”

“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.”

“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.”

“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.”

Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding.

“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.”

“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.”

Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“What was that for?”

“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers.

Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.

And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page.

“Okay, Eren. Good?”

Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you.

“Eren.”

He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more.

“It should be illegal-”

Kiss.

“To look like this.”

Kiss.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

Kiss.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to drive me crazy, love.”

“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.”

“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.”

He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once.

“Hey. What is it?” he whispers.

“You said my name.”

“I say your name all the time.”

“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.”

“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?”

He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face.

“I like how you say it. Y/N.”

“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.”

He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face.

“What’s that?”

“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.”

He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back.

“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.”

“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur.

“Huh?”

“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.

“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice.

You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks.

“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?”

“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine.

“And you think she’s going to narc on you?”

“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.”

Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips.

“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?”

“Now that you say it, it’s actually-”

“Too bad.”

And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after.

You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back.

“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?”

“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.”

“What’s the song called, Y/N?”

“Dress.”

“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss.

“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach.

“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.”

“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.”

“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.”

“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out.

“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you.

Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better.

The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor

Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.

You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky.

“Hey.”

“How many?”

“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him.

You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face.

“Ricky.”

“Yes, babe?”

“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?”

“For fun! You smell really good.”

You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward.

It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later.

Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror.

“Baby’s first Met Gala!”

You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says.

“For?”

“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.”

You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh.

“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically.

“What flavor is the cupcake?”

“Chocolate.”

“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger.

“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.”

“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.”

“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.”

You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast.

“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.”

“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-”

You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for.

After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.

Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event.

People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books.

You’ll take a win where you can get one.

Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated.

Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it.

Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support.

Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls.

Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts.

“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.”

“And if Lana comes up to me?”

“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.”

“And if Eren comes up to me?”

“I’ll give you a big kiss.”

“Ew. Don’t do that.”

“I love it when you act disgusted by me.”

You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder.

Are you and Ricky official?

Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N?

Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons?

Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night.

“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile.

“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.”

“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?”

“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at.

The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces.

You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.

You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.

Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after.

Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him.

“Oh god.”

“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond.

“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.”

“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.”

You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.

You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.

“You owe me ten bucks.”

“I never agreed to that, Ricky.”

Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side.

“Oh?”

“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek.

You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers.

“Y/N. You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you! So do you.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?”

“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.”

“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?”

And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera.

“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.”

“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond.

“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink.

“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?”

The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny.

“I think it’s flattering.”

“Really?”

Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you.

“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.”

“Ricky.”

“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.”

You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink.

“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning.

“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling.

“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern.

“Huh? That cat isn’t real?”

“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on.

“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet.

"Jean."

"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."

“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue.

Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it.

“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto.

“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.”

“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth.

You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.

Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet.

You nudge Megumi in the side.

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?”

“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group.

“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.”

“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison.

“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond.

“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds.

“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.”

“He did.” they all respond in unison.

"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.

"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.

You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side.

“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice.

“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch.

“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song.

He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response.

“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.”

“Very good friends.” you respond.

“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away.

“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.”

He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time.

“What’s your problem?”

“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.”

“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.”

“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.”

Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room.

You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear.

“Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.”

“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.”

She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands.

He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down.

“What do you want, doll?”

“Nothing. I got bored.”

He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka.

“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.”

“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask.

“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs.

You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte.

“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask.

“Eren told me.”

You look over at him, giving him your best glare.

“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair.

“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.”

“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.”

Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.

“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily.

“Okay?” you respond.

“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?”

“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him.

Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances.

“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks.

“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.”

“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?”

You smack him hard on the shoulder.

“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.”

“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.”

“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond.

“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.”

“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.”

“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.”

“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?”

“God. You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.”

“Do you want to kiss now?”

You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him.

“You never change, do you Sukuna?”

“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.”

“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.”

“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.”

He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear.

“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.”

“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting.

Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.

And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor.

And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you.

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.”

Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink.

“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.”

The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered.

“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!”

Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.

They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night.

Y/N: Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.

And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes.

Y/N: Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Marco: Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.

He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.

You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.

Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better.

“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”

You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen.

I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes.

“You okay?”

“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper.

No matter how long I resist temptation I always lose It hurts to be something It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math There’s no solution We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this?

As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.

When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away.

You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.

You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.

Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen.

You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner.

“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played.

“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.

levi: We love the record, kid.

you: it's been out for five seconds.

levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.

you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.

“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.

He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand.

“What’s this?”

“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle.

“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?”

“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.”

You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter.

“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.”

You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down.

“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand.

“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.”

Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to.

But you can't help these sort of things.

“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?”

“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past.

You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door.

Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned.

He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window.

“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.”

“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you.

“Huh?”

“That was me.” he responds, again.

“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask.

“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

"Ricky."

He closes off the window and walks away all together.

You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.

You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker.

“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head.

“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes.

You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch.

Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.

“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice.

“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.”

“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.”

You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify.

“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says.

“Okay.”

You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping.

And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry.

“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking.

“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder.

“I need your help.”

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"

“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."

“I need you to come get me, Eren.”

“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”

next part linked here

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist by either commenting on this or the masterlist <3

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frankiebirds · 5 months ago

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i need to talk about the goalpost scene or i'll explode. tw for the sexual assault of a minor, because. that is what reid is describing here, honestly:

i tried to gif it but the scene is quite long (especially because reid is constantly pausing to compose himself :(( ) and i realised while doing it that it's hard to gif a monologue, so instead here it is in text.

REID: I was in the library and, um... Harper Hillman comes up to me, and she tells me that, uh... Alexa Lisbon wants to meet me behind the field house. Alexa Lisbon's like, easily, the prettiest girl in school. MORGAN: So what happened? Alexa wasn't there? REID: No, she was there. So was the entire football team. They... stripped me naked and tied me to a goalpost. So many kids were there, you know, just watching. MORGAN: Nobody tried to stop it? REID: I begged... I begged them to, but they just... just watched. And... finally, they got bored and they left. It was like midnight when I finally got home. And my mom had... mom was having one of her episodes, so she didn't even realize I was late. MORGAN: You never told her what happened? REID: I never told anybody. I thought... it was one of those things that I thought if I didn't talk about it, I'd just forget. But I remember it like it was yesterday. MORGAN: Oh, Reid, you don't need an eidetic memory for that. You know, we forget half of what they teach us in school, but when it comes to the torment and the people who inflicted it, we've all got an elephant's memory.

i think about this a lot and honestly it makes me feel ill. because correct me if i'm wrong, but this is sexual assault, no? like yes reid is relating to owen as someone who was also severely bullied but he's also relating to owen as someone whose bullies committed a sex crime against them

something that i think gets missed a lot—reid was at the very oldest, twelve. again, correct me if i'm wrong, but football teams are big, right? reid even says "so many kids were there". just an unnecessary amount of people to restrain a pre-teen and a horrifying amount of people capable of standing there and watching. that is some stephen king level bullying honestly. not that ""normal"" bullying would be okay, of course, but just. jesus.

the implied length of the ordeal hurts too. a few things:

"they got bored and they left" to me implies that they left without untying him. had they done so, it would have made more sense to say "they got bored and they let me go." the phrasing reid uses implies they left him there and he had to get himself free. how long would that have taken?

reid also uses the word "finally" which. yeah. you know what the word finally means

the part that hurts the most is where reid says "[my mother] didn't even realize I was late." late. not gone. as in reid didn't go home inbetween speaking to harper and going behind the field house. this wasn't a "hey alexa wants to meet you behind the field house. nine pm" and the whole ordeal is "only" three hours. at best, it was right after school let out. at worst, he left the library and went straight there. so, at best, we're looking at...what, eight hours between going behind the field house and getting home?

this all happens in nevada. specifically vegas, which, from my understanding, is surrounded by desert. if it's winter/fall, the sun goes down relatively quickly and reid spends several hours freezing (i think? wikipedia says nighttime winter temps in vegas average at 4.4C/39.2F. is that cold in that region? canadian, sorry). if it's spring/summer, the sun takes a longer time to go down and reid spends several hours in the heat. ive usually headcanoned the second but the first is equally painful. but anyway, point is: take your pick. preteen reid gets either hypothermia or heatstroke. (also part of the reason i hc it was spring or summer is because i headcanon the goal post, which would have gotten very hot in the sun, scarred him. sorry to anyone whose day i just ruined <3)

sidenote: im always a little surprised by how calmly morgan reacts in this scene. not that he has a bad reaction, or isn't visibly troubled, but given how protective of reid he is normally...the first time i watched this scene i expected him to pull out a pen and paper and ask for names. so im headcanoning that the reason he's so calm in this scene isn't because he is calm, but because he's a good friend who knows that that isn't a productive response at the moment. and then he goes back to the bau and has garcia hunt them down (without telling her why) and uh. i dont know. maybe she destroys their credit scores or something.

#sorry this is. less coherent than i wanted it to be #i might come back to it after work #godddd #literally it makes me ill. henry bowers shit.#spencer reid #scene analysis #not fic #criminal minds #criminal minds rewatch #criminal minds s03e16 #elephant's memory

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mamaestapa · 10 months ago

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stop okay I def saw that post way too quickly but I just refreshed tumblr—

BEARD BURN😭 imagine whining and complaining the next day bc the inside of your thighs hurt and feel raw bc of his beard bc he spent all day between your thighs🤭🫠🫠🫠

he would def kiss it better and be so gentle and cute 🥹but obvs that never lasts bc that man between your thighs always escalates….🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

beard burn from adam fantilli>>>> (im saying that like ive gotten it??😭 LMAOO anyways-)

you'd wake up that morning wincing in pain after a fun night with adam. the ache in your thighs wasn't what had you wincing, it was the bright red rash forming in between your thighs. it was no secret that adam loved going down on you, so him spending half the night between your thighs was nothing out of the ordinary.

you absolutely loved it.

what you didn't love though was the burning, iritated, angry red rash forming on your inner thighs from his beard. you brought a hand down to your thighs, immediately taking it away and wincing once again as your fingertips made contact with the irritated skin.

adam came out of your bathroom, drying his chest off with a towel as he wore a frown on his face from hearing your wincing. his frown only deepened when he saw the look of discomfort on your face.

"what happened?"

"you, you happened adam"

"what do you mean?"

"come see for yourself"

the poor boy was so confused as he slowly walked over to the bed. was he too rough last night? did he hurt you? were you too sore? a million thoughts were running through adam's head. he stopped by your side of the bed, sitting down on the mattress and squinting his eyes slightly as you spread your legs open. adam's eyes widened, letting out a soft gasp as he saw the beard burn on your inner thighs.

adam felt terrible. he was apologizing to you like crazy like he always did when he got too rough...

"oh my god. im so sorry"

"i didn't mean to hurt you baby"

"let me help, maybe this will make it better"

adam carefully lowered his head back down between your thighs, resuming his position from last night. his pretty blue eyes kept eye contact with yours as he slowly brought his lips down on top of the developing red rash. he began to leave gentle kisses all along your inner thigh, the feeling of his lips somehow taking the pain away. he was so gentle with you and felt bad for hurting you like this. however, anytime adam was between (or even near) your thighs, it never ended innocently...

before you knew it, one second his fingers were hooked under the waistband of your panties and the next he was licking a strip up your soaked slit, making you gasp out in pleasure already.

"adam-"

"shhh beautiful, im just trying to make you feel better"

"you'll make it worse"

"ill be gentle. now be quiet and let me taste you"

#asks #adam f asks #adam fantilli smut

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weebsinstash · 8 months ago

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So fandom specific posts are to follow eventually, but this is going to be a general concept. I've been thinking A LOT on alternative takes to the red string of fate trope and I started wondering about a hypothetical idea of the strings changing in appearance based on the current health and mental well being of the person they're attached to, even to the point where the strings do not properly appear if you're in bad mental health

For example, some of these AUs have the string where you have to think about it to summon it whenever and you can follow it as long as you want, and some have the string only appear when you are within a certain proximity to your other half

First and foremost, what if, when your string appears, you could make it vanish again at will. Not like permanantly, but like, say, if your string keeps appearing and you don't want it to be used to track your physical location, you have to concentrate similar to using a specific muscle and you can "force them back" so they can't find you. Just imagining the growing frustrations of a yandere who has to wait until you fall asleep to even make progress on your actual location because otherwise it's, them summoning your string for about .5 seconds before you notice and shut that shit off immediately, like two people on opposite ends of the room both toggling switches for the same light

But anyways, back to the alternative appearance strings, could you then imagine a scenario where, your yandere has their string appear and after a certain length, it changes colors for the rest of the strand, signifying your string and your own well-being, and the color immediately signifies something incredibly serious and worrying to them that immediately has them speeding to your side to check on you even if they've never met you before, regardless of if it's a couple blocks over or if they have to follow that string across the world. And then you can pair that with the "string blocking" idea and you have an extremely frantic yandere who is freaking out, "my soulmate is in trouble, why won't they let me come help them?! This is why they need me!!!" Amd they KNOW you are deliberately holding them off so, whatever aspects from that, whether it's a sadistic yandere who is amused by your spunk, or a nurturing yandere who automatically takes this as affirmation that you're just a sweet nervous little bean who needs their guidance, look at you being so scared of your own soulmate you silly little goose--

I only have two alternative colors, technically three different ideas total, but, I considered the idea of someone's string slowly turning white and becoming more visibly frayed if someone is seriously ill and or dying, eventually snapping and disappearing upon true death, and I thought it would be interesting if this "physical health symptom" also manifested for suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. Your yandere has your half of the string appear connected to theirs and they IMMEDIATELY know you're in trouble and they come to find you at all costs and you're... so depressed you can't even be excited to meet them and may even still want to die and just tell them to go away. Your yandere all but kicks down your door, "honey I'm here and I'm ready to love you!

Continuing from that last point, the other idea I'm really growing attached to that is probably my favorite is the idea of the BLUE string of fate: a string that appears on someone who is currently not within the right mental state to be in love or needs some sort of help or time to heal from a trauma before they are ready. Your other half tries to summon their string? The other end of it cuts off mid-air and hangs off their hand, leading nowhere, useless, unable to be followed, only a couple inches of blue their only hint if they even have a soulmate at all, but it can't lead them to you, driving them crazy who you are and where you are

I also considered the idea for alternate colors if two people are soulmates but they have, shall we say, an alternative dynamic? Like you could also technically use the blue string (although i personally think green or elsewise for this example would work better) for like, two aromantic people who are platonic soulmates or that have some incredibly strong nonromantic nonsexual love for someone? Or if you had, say, an aroace or just aro person and their soulmate was an allosexual of some kind. Idk it just sounds intriguing to play around with the concepts since you know, there's more than just romantic and platonic love and it can be an extremely nuanced feeling and love also doesn't inherently translate into sexual desires as another aspect and in this essay I will--

Either way, I feel like once I interact with certain tropes for another years, I wanna start throwing some seasonings in there. Spice up this bitch and saute it. I'm out here giving ABO a broader range of vocalizations to the point Omega can make clicking "distress call" noises to signal for help when trapped or injured. I'm over here "what if scenting could be done with any physical touch and the nature of the scent can be intentionally controlled to convey certain feelings so your yandere Alpha could give you a friendly shoulder pat and suddenly you're walking around with Don't Touch My Mate Or I'll Fucking Kill You scent all over you and you have no idea"

I just. Final thing. Can you imagine being in the same room as your yandere and, THEY KNOW they feel some sort of attraction to you they can't explain, but you dont really talk or make any effort to interact with them, and one day you overhear your yandere talking about how they don't have a soulmate yet and they summon their string and half of it is blue and here you are, subtly sneaking out of the room, staring down at your own cobalt thread and wondering, "am I.... THEIR...?"and deciding to intentionally keep it a secret, but eventually you two grow close enough or, someone says something to you that opens your heart and let's you love yourself enough that, a tiny voice inside of you is like "yeah... I WOULD like a partner to spend time and laugh with, i want to koge and im ready to take the risk" and your yandere literally watches your string, and by extension the string on the other end of theirs, completely change colors and finally fully connect, so then you have the slow burn, kind of one sided pining that absolutely explodes in intensity once your yandere finds out it was you all along

Just might be a couple of fun concepts to play around with in the future. You guys know I love drama...

#yandere x reader #sinprompts #and YES i AM thinking about Alastor shut up shut up shut up

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adzy-drawz · 3 months ago

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YOOOUUUU PAW OVER YOUR OCS AND LORE NOOOWWW

SIR YES SIR 🫡

so since i have a lot of original media ocs that require further context i'll just talk about my tadc ocs since i havent been able to anyway

LONGGG RAMBLE POST UP AHEAD!!

this is dr. clack (he/him), he was a therapist and he has tired dad energy as the second image of doodles says. he's based off of those bead mazes in doctors offices. hes less developed than my other ocs so thats basically all ive come up with for him. he doesnt like to curse and as soon as he pulled up and vaguely got to know all of the others he came to the conclusion all of them are mentally ill. 🥰 he also took forever to name himself so they all just called him doctor for a while until jax called him dr. clack because of the sounds he makes whenever he moves around, and it just stuck.

this is oapy (she/her), her story is so undeveloped but shes super optimistic and takes longer to process things than others. she doesn't really know whats going on half the time but shes trying her best. shes great at dancing and loves being the center of attention but she also manages to be the most calm, kinda acting as the grounding person in the group.

this is sophie (she/they), i included two random images of wooden mannequins cuz well- thats what she looks like. she's one of the basic blank slate NPCs and she gained sentience due to a glitch one day. jax ended up finding her after he bumped into her on purpose and she actually reacted, which the mannequin NPCs dont do. he ended up being the one to name her and befriend them and basically teach them what emotions are what and all that (which he did a surprisingly good job at given his track record). the group keeps her hidden from caine because after the gummigoo incident they're more than certain he would get rid of her in a heartbeat. shes generally really curious, but other than her curiosity they're just a really quiet/shy and sweet person and enjoys just observing the others sometimes. they're also quite blunt since they just say what first comes to mind all of the time.

and ofc last but not least we have my bbg greg (he/him). hes my tadc self insert and if you know me you know him. hes not exactly me of course, he's a completely different version of myself, but we are very similar. hes very nervous and fidgety and has a sort of wont speak unless spoken to kind of mentality when he doesnt know a lot of people in a group, but once he gets comfortable he gets talkative and is a really nice and chill guy, though he's still kind of always nervous and fidgety regardless. he is pretty self indulgent soo- him and caine are dating. they had a sort of enemies to friends to lovers very slow burn kind of thing go on. he always tries his best to be as nice and understanding as he can with everyone.

heres all of their relationship chart thingies with the canon characters!

and heres two doodles with all of them because they're silly

thanks for asking! sorry this post is so violently long. i'll post all of their ref sheets once i make them 😎

#adzy drawz #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc oc #tadc self insert #tadc original character #anthony somebody asked #I LOVE YAPPING I AM THE YAPPER

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itsthesinbin · 2 months ago

Text

Sins in Stardust (Bill Cipher/Reader) Chapter 2

teehee

the bitch himself is here! as usual i just pick up major speed on an idea for like 3 days.

i'll be posting it to ao3 too after this goes up! ill reblog both chapters tomorrow with the ao3 link :3

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

“Why the fuck are you screaming?!” The triangle jumped to his feet, trying to scramble backwards. He tripped over a piece of stone and fell back onto his… ass? Does a triangle have an ass?

“Why am I- Who are you?!” He reeled back, seemingly offended as you yelled back at him. He stood on his little legs, hands balled into fists. He pointed at himself with a thumb.

“My name’s Bill Cipher, fleshy, and I… I…” His rage morphs into confusion. He rubs the side of his head, eyelid furrowing. “I was gonna do something…” He suddenly felt a groove in his side he didn’t recognize. He followed the crack in his body for a moment, before looking down at himself. He went from angry-confused to angry-worried.

“What the hell happened to me? What kinda drink did I get at O’Sadly’s…?” Slowly, you both stood. You held your hands out to pacify the creature as you told him your name. He rolled his eye, waving you off.

“Yeah, whatever. Where am I? I think I’m late for something and need to hop on the next comet out of this backwater dimension.” You frowned, but pulled your phone out. You pulled up your GPS to double check your intended destination.

“There’s a town called Gravity Falls up ahead… We’re a couple hours out from town.” He seemed to pause at that. He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache come on. He squeezed his eye shut in thought.

“Gravity Falls, huh…? That sounds familiar.” His eye relaxed, turning slightly up in a mouthless grin. He snapped his fingers.

“Alright, kid! You take me to Gravity Falls and I’ll handle it from there. I got a feeling I got a couple friends waiting for me.” He stood there for a second, then frowned. He looked down at his feet in confusion. He jumped, only to land on his flat triangle ass again. He grunted, eye popping open.

“That hurt-? I can’t float? What the-?” He stood up, jumping and trying to float again. You watched him for a minute, slowly going to pack up your campsite. He was laying on the ground, tired and panting, when you finally got fully packed. He grabbed his discarded cane, using it to haul himself up. The top half of him was a dull red, both from exhaustion and anger.

“Okay, clearly something’s wrong. FanTASTIC! YOU!” He jabbed the cane in your direction. You looked down at him, pointing to yourself in response. He hobbled over to you.

“My powers are gone and if I recall correctly, you said last night you’d take me with you!” He went from angry to chipper in an instant. You frowned. The guy doesn’t remember anything beyond his name, but he happened to remember that you offered to take him- as a statue, at least. Great.

You thought back to your weird dream. There was no way it was a coincidence- a triangular kid in your dreams, reaching out to you for company. A triangular man waiting for you when you wake up. Damn.

Even WITHOUT that dream, you couldn’t just leave an amnesiac in the woods. You may not be a good person, but you weren’t heartless. Maybe that Axolotl will come back and be like oh shit my bad, I’ll take that idiot back. But, for now, you gotta take care of… an alien? Whatever the fuck he is. You sighed.

“Alright, Bill. C’mon- we’ll figure out how to hide you from people in the car, but the roads have been pretty empty so far.” He crossed his arms as he walked over to you.

“That’s more like it! Once we figure out what’s going on, kid, I’ll make sure to spare you when I turn this place upside down.” Joy. You got stuck with a psycho. You made a non-commital noise in response. You hauled your bag onto your back and led him back to your car. Leading a stranger back to your car in any circumstance was stupid, but this was INSANELY stupid.

“So… what are you, anyway?” The little egomaniac puffed up even more, glad to be able to talk about himself freely. He fixed his little bowtie, pulling at suspenders that didn’t exist.

“Interdimensional dream demon, at your service! Originally two dimensional, but uh… that changed somehow, I guess!” His confidence faltered slightly at mentioning his additional dimension he didn’t remember gaining, but he didn’t sound disappointed in it. He scratched at one of the glitching cracks, staring off into space for a few minutes.

A sick crunching sound cut off whatever he planned to say. You felt your heart drop into your stomach. The two of you glanced at each other, before picking up the pace to see what was going on.

A large creature had ripped a door off of your car, and was now trying to fit into the seat to get at the leftover food inside. You would’ve thought it was a nearly-furless bear, until you saw hooves. Your eyes widened as you looked at Bill. He didn’t look scared. If anything he looked a little excited. The creature pulled its head out, eating part of your car’s passenger seat.

“That thing’s a little freak, isn’t it,” he laughed. The creature’s head snapped to you two, and you froze. Bill cackled.

“Well, good luck with that, meatsack! I’ll check in when you get eviscerated!” He snapped his fingers confidently. Then snapped them again. He cracked his eye open, looking around to see if he was still there. The creature growled in response. Bill opened his eye fully. You stared at him, mouth open and brow furrowed in disbelief.

“Right. Powers gone. Forgot about that.” The creature roared, and charged. You both screamed and, out of instinct, you scooped the short idiot up into your arms and ran. He struggled, going from freaked out to pissed.

“PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW BEFORE I RIP EVERY INDIVIDUAL TOOTH OUT AND PUT THEM IN YOUR EYE SOCKETS!” His voice grew deep and layered, his body turned a bright red and the colors of his eye inverted. You darted through the trees, hearing the huge creature break entire trees as it ran after you two.

“DO YOU THINK YOU COULD OUTRUN THAT THING? OR KILL IT?” “I COULD IF I WASN’T NEUTERED!” You wanted to shake him. To throw him at the creature as a distraction and run. But, you weren’t a monster. You couldn’t let the guy die, no matter how annoying he was at the moment. You had to remember the guy just, supposedly, broke out of stone and had little to no memory. He needed help.

You hid behind a large tree, trying to calm your wheezing. Bill was frantically snapping and staring at his hands, rage turning to horror. He was getting panicked and tried to hide it with fury. Okay, he was no help at the moment. You heard the creature getting closer. You looked at the trees, counting the branches above you.

You moved Bill, light as a feather in your grasp, onto your shoulders. He was confused, gripping onto your head. You told him to hold on as you pulled your belt off. You used it as leverage, pulling it over the branch to help pull yourself up. Bill’s grip on you tightened to the point you thought he was gonna choke you out. Or pull a chunk of hair out. You’d have to deal with it.

You hauled yourself high into the pine tree, sitting on a thick branch near the trunk. You coughed, trying to calm the burning in your lungs. Bill leaned over to look at the forest floor, seeing the creature sniffing around. Shit.

“Well, genius, what do you plan to do now?” He asked, looking back down at you. You ignored him, looking around frantically for something. Anything you could use to get the creature away from you. Bill huffed, yanking a pinecone out of a branch. He stared at it as intensely as he could, willing- praying- that it lit up with blue flame. His hands shook slightly when nothing happened.

“You got a lighter?” he asked, trying to shove down the panic. He wasn’t about to die here- not until he could get his powers back. You looked up to see the pinecone.

“Are you crazy? What if the trees go up!” “We can outrun a fire easier than that thing, meatsack! Give me a lighter!” You groaned, annoyed, but relented and snapped your lighter on. You blew on the pinecone, feeding the fire enough to get it lit. You grabbed a couple more, using the lit pinecone to set the others ablaze.

With grunts of effort, you both lobbed your makeshift firebombs at the creature below. One flew over its head, drawing its attention to it. The other two landed on its back, on the stripe of fur along its spine. Bill lit a couple more, chucking them as hard as he could. The creature roared as one got stuck in its fur, igniting the hair quickly. It ran off, slamming into trees to try and smother the burning pinecone. You two waited, holding your breaths to see if it’d come back.

You began to descend as you heard its roars and screeches getting fainter by the minute. Bill jumped down as you reached the ground, only to land on his mostly flat face. He grumbled as he stood, both of you hurrying back to your car. Much to his anger, he struggled to keep up with your long legs.

You arrived at your totaled car, shoulders drooping. You dug through the debris in search of anything that survived. All the food was gone, bags shredded to get the contents inside. Your passenger seat was destroyed, along with the dashboard. Your identification papers were either eaten, soaked with drool or shredded. Thankfully you had your important items like your wallet and phone with you, but damn… How the fuck were you going to explain this to your insurance?

Once you grabbed whatever you could- which wasn’t much beyond some unshredded clothing- you took pictures for future evidence. You could hear Bill tapping his small foot on the ground behind you. You prickled slightly as you turned to him. The two of you glared at each other, daring the other to look away. You sighed, tired, as you broke the glaring contest. Bill crossed his arms triumphantly.

“Good idea back there, Cipher. Thanks.” He blinked, before putting a hand on his hip. He smiled- best he could, anyway- and shot you a finger gun.

“Glad to finally get some appreciation! Maybe I won’t shove your teeth into your eyes, kid!” You rolled your eyes as he trotted up to your side. You popped your back real fast, grunting slightly, before looking down at him.

“Okay. When we get to town, I’ll look through what clothes I got left and… rig some kinda disguise for you. Just keep your… head… down, when we get there. At least til I figure something else out.” He huffed slightly, but knew he couldn’t do much in terms of hiding without his abilities.

“Just make me look hot, alright? I got a reputation to keep!” He jumped and grabbed onto your backpack, nearly pulling you down. Scrambling up your bag, he began to look for clothes that interested him. Your head throbbed- from exhaustion, from hunger, and from annoyance.

“You said you had friends in town?” you asked as you looked back over your shoulder. He currently had a scarf wrapped around his head, like a Babushka. He shrugged.

“Hell if I know! Feels like I should, so maybe if I see someone a lightbulb’ll go off,” he answered, going back to digging through your items. He pulled a couple breakfast bars out, handing you one. You mumbled a thanks. You paused mid chew.

“... Do you eat?” His eye turned into a mouth as he began to eat the bar, much to your disgust. He shrugged again.

“Usually no, but it seems like whatever happened to me changed that. I’m starving! You don’t happen to have a liver in here, do you?” You decided to let him figure out for himself that you, in fact, did not have a liver hiding in your bag. Guess you’d have to get food for two. That’ll put a dent in your savings.

One day at a time. You’ll get it figured out. Just gotta take it one day at a time.

#gravity falls #bill cipher #bill cipher x reader #sins in stardust

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kumezyzo · 1 year ago

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literally love you for all the streamer!reader hc cus no one else really does it 🫶🏼🫶🏼 (pls do more for my well-being ill beg 🤧)

hehe. first thing that came to mind was the creation of everest. so here you go. fem!reader

i was so incredibly sleep deprived and in a random holiday inn express in colorado/kansas when i started writing this. so its my brain basically on crack trying to describe harmonies in my cellist little peanut brain 😭😭

i also assumed this anon wanted bf!sapnap... and im sorry if thats not the case. just pretend i never wrote any of that.

anyway, enjoy! or dont... :) m.list

bsf!dream who asks you to harmonize on the vocals with him.

"its like barely an octave higher," he tells you as you stand infront of the microphone. you roll you eyes and adjust the headphones on your head.

"its barely an octave higher," you say, mocking his voice.

"yea and then its higher on the second 'coming down' and keep it high but flat," he says easily.

you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows as you think over his words.

you sigh, "i hate being your friend."

bsf!george who teases you when he hears your vocals added to the song.

"oh my god, yn's singer era?" he grins at you. you groan and shove him playfully.

bf!sapnap who hears your raw vocals and just feels like a proud bf that you stepped out of whatever comfort zone you had to sing in dreams song.

when people hear the take with all four of you, they can actually tell because of your voice.

during bsf!dreams promotion for the song, he posts on tiktok with the title 'yn not singing and stalling for three minutes'

its a compilation of you talking and pacing around the studio, prolonging a groan, and insulting clay as much as you can. and saying obscenities into the microphone, obviously.

"im hungry, are you guys hungry? we should go get some food....and not come back-" "ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"clay, youre a bitch." "clay, i hate you." "dream is a bitch, sub to me-" "so high like im on acid-" "i thought nick and george were supposed to be on this song too."

bsf!george who complains about how much you and sapnap were pelting him with snowballs during the music video.

"for some reason they gave them all to sapnap. and he gave half of them to yn," george said recalling the semi-traumatic events. "and both of them throwing them were so painful."

on your own stream, you talk about the behind the scenes of the music video.

"shes [amouranth] actually such a cool person...i was about to leave nick for her-"

"what you guys didnt see after nick popped the champagne, was that he proceeded to point it at me and completely drench me in it," you say pursing your lips in annoyance. "and it didnt even taste good!"

"they asked me to join this little pillow fight right here," you said pointing at the screen. "and instead of hitting kaitlyn, i went around and smacked the fuck out of george. but you can barely see it."

"i really hope they didnt get that energy drink on the carpet..."

bf!sapnap who suggested you getting in a bikini like the other girls in the music video.

you look at your boyfriend blankly, "your such a perv-"

i liked writing this. thats it. -nony

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #dteam #sapnap x y/n #anon #sapnap x streamer reader #asks #streamer reader #sapnap x streamer #dream team fluff #dream team crack #sapnap crack

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catras-breakup-song · 2 days ago

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Soo hope your not bothered by this ask, if you are you can ignore it

Your take on catra "sexually harassing" adora in the dance between them scene by the antis?

Also your take on the antis saying catra used hurtful mind control on adora (in episode: white out) just like prime's own mind control abilities?

hang on for a bit while i process...

WHAT IN THE WORLD ???

i can at least understand the controversial argument that catra was abusive because... well, she was. she perpetuated the cycle (that only goes up to S2 but it gets the point across). as adora said, she hurt a lot of people before becoming a better person and improving her relationships.

but i cannot for the life of myself fucking get behind sexual assault accusations... are they serious?! that just comes across as lesbophobia at such a point. the only moment i can assume they're talking about is this one:

and that is adora's leg placement, her own doing. adora's body was supported from falling flat on the floor not because she lifted her leg up, but because catra's arms were held around her back. literally just search up on google "prom dip pose" and under the images section you'll find the partner kicking their leg up like that. alternatively, if adora hadn't done that and simply leaned back without lifting anything, the posture still would've been the same.

not to mention, adora later does practically the same thing anyway:

i hate how people pretend like there wasn't mutual desire between catradora as if their impulsive fights and angry tussles weren't homoerotic as hell, and not just on catra's end being the one to initiate them. the audience is hooked on the coding within their subtext for a damn good reason. for the record, someone wrote a super long essay about how their sexual desire for each other was written, including this exact scene from princess prom.

EDIT: this post is perfect specifically for adora’s role in their song-and-dance there!

as for the other part about the first ones' tech virus, i covered it briefly on another blog after an anti commented on my post, which i'd rather not link so i'll paraphrase and add on:

it's strange that this moment was focused on specifically when it was so brief and didn't seem to affect adora herself (seeing as the second the sword was detached from her hand she detransitioned) aside from passing out for a little while but otherwise being totally fine, let alone in the long run. even then though, i genuinely wonder if it was more from the freezing cold considering she didn't bring any winter wear due to planning on staying as she-ra the entire time, or even exhaustion from chasing after targets ─ then again though, i wouldn't be surprised if it was just the corruption since catra didn't have any trouble recovering from being half-erased and splitting reality apart herself. i would imagine regardless, she-ra is much more immune to physical weaknesses & obstacles, compared to the wielder. the point is, either way, it clearly wasn't traumatizing the way prime's chip was shown to affect catra even many episodes after STC. for example, she continued to rub the back of her neck in "an ill wind", which was five episodes after.

the disk, however, never needed to be brought up again, but if it had been, it'd be unfair to say long-lasting consequences were entirely to blame on catra when the exact same thing had happened in dryll where she hadn't been present. the only real difference was that catra, knowing what could happen (not would obviously, as she hadn't planned to be put in the spotlight like that), fully intended to destroy she-ra unless she could weaponize it (but notably not adora in her default state), which i can't defend her for. it was a malicious choice, but it's reasonable to say it wasn't out-of-order while they were active enemies. at least she ended up realizing she was paying the price by being nearly killed, as she had been so used to adora going easy on her before the events of the portal-opening took place.

#asks #anon #spop #she ra #she-ra #she-ra and the princesses of power #catradora #catra #adora #discourse #sa tw #tw sa #sa mention #(lmk if i should tag as anything else)

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mydemonsdrivealimo · 2 months ago

Text

Do You A Favor

summary:

Bryce is coming down with something, and Jensen's not as glorious of a caretaker as one might expect—but it works for them. (sickfic)

book: oph

word count: 1211

~~~

Had he not already been awake, he was sure the congested, labored breathing Bryce was struggling with would've been enough to make him stir. He could tell something was off yesterday. Bryce silently listened to him all through dinner, and when they got home afterwards he just turned on a TV show—and only talked through the first 15 minutes. He would usually consider it a miracle, but Bryce was obviously coming down with something.

He went to bed at his usual 9:30 bedtime without the half-hour of hair and skincare routines beforehand. It was only 11:00 PM and he was already up twice to get water, shuffling past Jensen finishing up dishes the first time, and reading on the couch the second. He was too tired to complain of a sore throat, but it wasn't hard to guess.

Now, changing into pajamas at the far side of the bedroom, Jensen could hear the start of an illness in his breath.

He crept over to the edge of the bed, sitting down quietly and trying to hear if the congestion was all the way down to Bryce's chest. Gently, as to not wake him up, Jensen carefully set his hands on the side of Bryce's neck, putting as little pressure as possible to check for any swelling in his lymph nodes.

Bryce stirred, his hand flying up to swat Jensen away as he blinked, trying to see in the near-black darkness of the bedroom. Hand on Jensen's wrist, he asked, "What the hell are you doing?" Jensen could hear the clogged, congested-sounding hoarseness in Bryce's voice.

"I was trying to check if your lymph nodes were swollen," he whispered at some implication of an apology, "Does it hurt when you swallow?"

Bryce blinked a few more times, trying to wake up enough for this conversation. "…I feel like you're breaking some ethics codes of conduct."

Jensen didn't reply, waiting for an answer to his question. Bryce didn't say anything for a long beat. Eventually he sighed, rubbing his eyes before closing them again and answering, "Yes."

"Hold on."

Jensen grabbed a butter knife and flashlight from the kitchen, returning to Bryce sleeping again, rolled onto his side. He gave his shoulder a gentle tug, earning a grumble but getting him on his back anyway.

"Can you open your mouth?"

"Y'know, when most people ask their partner to open their mouth in bed, it's usually for fun, sexy reasons," he said, not in protest, but just to make sure Jensen knew.

He complied quickly after, groaning and smacking his hands over his already-closed eyes as Jensen clicked the flashlight on, pressing his tongue down with the butter knife.

"It's not strep," Jensen confirmed, turning the light off and setting the knife on the nightstand.

"Whew, I'm so glad we figured that out," Bryce replied in a painfully wry tone, tired and unamused.

"I can get you some tea with honey, that could help," Jensen offered, setting his hand on Bryce's arm.

"Can you also prescribe 'rest'?" he asked, squinting up at him tiredly.

Jensen glanced at the clock, realizing 11:30 was incredibly late for a usual wake-up time of 4:30. He should've better picked up on the annoyed edge to Bryce's tired tone, but honing in on solving the problem, rather than being considerate of Bryce's state, proved to be his downfall.

"Sorry," he said through a sigh, retracting his hands, "I shouldn't have woken you up, I didn't think about it."

Bryce found his wrist in the dark, sliding his hand up until he interlaced their fingers. "Hey, I know you were just trying to help." He picked up their locked hands, holding them close to his chest. "I'm gonna call in tomorrow anyway; I don't have any surgeries and Tanaka can take my post-ops, so no big deal."

Waiting in silence for a long breath, Jensen finally responded with, "Okay," squeezing his hand. Bryce gave him a half-efforted smile before pressing a kiss to his hand and letting go.

Jensen stood up but stalled before leaving. "Do you want the tea?"

"You know I hate tea."

"Yeah, but it'll help," he called, halfway to the door.

Jensen could hear him roll over, the blankets shuffling with his movements. "I'm already asleep!"

Rolling his eyes, Jensen closed the door behind him, leaving to clean up for the night but returning shortly after.

Bryce woke up a few times to a cough or pain through the roof of his mouth, grabbing for a drink with Jensen's arms around him, but when sunlight blazed through the curtains, the rest of the bed was empty.

He sat up and turned around, instantly regretting it as pounding pressure coursed through his sinuses. Slowly laying back down, he blindly grabbed his phone, checking the time. He grabbed it for another reason, too, but the stinging pain in the back of his throat was more distracting that he liked to admit.

The door creaked, and he instinctually squinted to see Jensen walking into the room. He slowly made his way over to Bryce's side of the bed. Once he was close enough, Bryce could see him set a mug of something down on the nightstand, asking, "Did you call in yet?"

Ah, right. He shook his head, holding his phone close to find the right number.

The bed dipped next to him as Jensen sat down. Pressed close to his leg, he grabbed Bryce's glasses, pushing them onto his face while Bryce brought the phone to his ear.

After a short, easy call, Jensen helpfully took the phone from him, setting it to the side while he sat up slowly. Jensen patiently waited before setting the cup of tea in his hands.

"I have to leave soon, but I put the cough drops and ibuprofen on the coffee table. You could gargle salt water, too, that might help. Oh, make sure you're drinking more water. I washed your Stanley last night so—"

Bryce grabbed his hand, giving him a look. "You have to go be a doctor at work all day, you don't have to do it at home, too, you know."

"I know, but I don't mind," Jensen assured, running his thumb over Bryce's. "I don't want you to feel any worse than you have to."

Bryce smiled, a small thing but grateful nonetheless. "Thank you."

Jensen didn't answer, but he reached over, pushing a few stray pieces of hair behind Bryce's ear. Jensen studied his face for a long, drawn out few moments, his eyes revealing a vibrant shade of green as the sun grazed his profile. Bryce waited for something else, but another minute of nothing made him ask, "What?" with a hesitant, almost shy grin.

"Are you going to drink that, or are you waiting for me to leave so you can dump it out?"

Bryce looked down to the lukewarm mug of tea in his other hand that he had no intention of finishing. He glanced up with a guilty smile, and Jensen rolled his eyes, but he took the cup without comment.

"Text me if you need me to pick something up on my way home, okay?"

He pressed a short kiss to Bryce's forehead, squeezing his hand one last time before leaving for the day.

#no spell check no rereads i am posting this with my eyes closed #jensen valentine #bryce lahela × jensen valentine #open heart #open heart choices

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ughgoaway · 1 year ago

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the sick dad matty blurb omfg ACE i’m literally unwell at the thought of mopey messy hair matty falling asleep in ur lap and being so flustered at u seeing him like that- brb fucking crying

also speaking of which genuinely insane timing how you always post smth after i’ve had a very long shift i swear theyre really the one thing i look forward to the most after work 😭😭 uninterrupted horizontal time with ur blurbs it’s true it literally is my fav thing-

also perhaps an extension of sick dad! matty but i just can’t shake the idea of teacher reader being worried about him still and asking annie about it at school the next day and annie just randomly drops a bombshell in the way kids do and says smth like ‘oh daddys so much better today! he’s all smiley and said that you chased the bad coughing monster away for him- can you come do that every time? daddy’s never had anyone do that before’ and it just b r e a ks teacher reader completely pls anyways crying throwing up

(- bff anon also has the can’t shut up disease i fear 😭）

OMG, IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT BFF!!! I just need to look after this man.

like imagine he eventually wakes up and its like 9pm at that point so you're like "okay let's get you to bed" and he's all sad and pouty and says "only if you stay over with me" but he's still half asleep and doesn't quite process what he said for a good few seconds...

wide-eyed, he tries to backtrack, "wait- I'm so sorry I didn't mean it like that! obviously, we haven't slept together yet, but- NO, NOT LIKE 'SLEPT TOGETHER' SLEPT TOGETHER!!! I MEANT LIKE JUST SLEEPING!!! ohmygod-"

you're like "no that sounds nice, let's go upstairs," and matty is silently freaking out bc you're gonna be in his bed. with him. sleeping. he's thought about this scenario 1000 times, and none of them included him being dealthy ill and not having nice sheets on the bed first.

(more rambles below the cut as always)

you get matty to brush his teeth and get ready for bed, even rubbing some moisturiser on him (he just sits there with a dopey grin as you apply)

he always thought you'd be on his chest or he'd be spooning you, but he ends up with his face buried between your boobs and he's out within 10 mins.

oh and the morning after... so much potential...

I must have spidey senses for when you're at work bff!!! the fact that my blurbs make you so happy you look forward to them??? brb vomiting???? that is so kind. horizontal time on tumblr is my fav too, its unmatched.

OH, LITTLE ANNIE TALKING ABOUT HIM PLEASEEEEEE-

I can see her spending the night at hanns bc matty doesn't want her to get ill and doesn't trust George or Ross to keep her overnight.

"Do you even know what 5 year olds eat??"

"bro, why dont you trust us???"

"Yeah... like mushed carrots and shit right. "

you put the kids to work colouring something but secretly call Annie over yo your desk, "hi Annie! I just wanted to ask how your daddy is today, I know he's been a bit poorly"

"...please take her Adam"

she immediately lights up and starts chattering away, "Oh, daddy said he's feeling much better today. he even made me my toast this morning, and he was all smiley the whole time!!! he said you made him all better and played nurse!! can you do that every time he's poorly? he's much happier when you are his nurse than when he goes to the doctors"

obviously, internally you're like "ohmygod he really likes me, and I made him feel better. oh, he couldn't stop smiling, and annie noticed because he was so happy and -"

but externally, you play it cool like, "Oh, that's great, sweetheart! I'm sure next time he's poorly, you can help him feel better too"

Annie is like, "Oh!! I hope he's poorly again soon, I wanna play doctors with you!!!"

you try not to laugh at her wishing her dad ill and just send her back to her desk, but the grin doesn't leave your face all day. thinking about the fact you made matty giddy makes you just as giddy as him.

the next day a bouquet of flowers show up at your door with a note,

"dear nurse y/n,

thank you for coming to look after me even after I cancelled our date. whilst I am slightly mortified you saw me looking like that, I'm more grateful for your help. you made being sick worth it. Spending any time with you is always worth it.

love, matty x

ps, I hope the next time you stay in my bed, I'm substantially less sick, and we're both wearing substantially less clothes ;)"

#the cant shut tf up disease... its spreading...#BUT I LOVE IT!!! NEVER SHUT UP BFF!!!#sorry i hijacked your ask and chatted so much shit...#but sick matty is FULL of potential #anon!#bff anon <33333 #teacher au!

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goodlucktai · 2 years ago

Text

give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around

chapter three: me and you and the whole town underwater

rise of the tmnt pairing: leoichi (leonardo / usagi yuichi) word count: 3k title borrowed from dark blue by jack’s mannequin post-movie

(previous) (next)

read on ao3

Usagi: Good morning Leonardo. Unknown: USAGI Unknown: there are so many snacks in here oh my god Unknown: what the hell 😭😭😭😭 Unknown: im heavily medicated its not fair to do nic ethings ill cry Unknown: tell ur aunt i said THANK YOU!!!!!!! and the blueberry buckle was SO GOOD😭😭 Unknown: i shared some w mikey and he wants the recipe like yesterday Unknown: we actually ate like. all of it in one sitting. raph was pissed lol

Yuichi lays in bed smiling at his phone for a while before he gets around to pulling his braincells together to form a reply.

He starts and stops typing so many times that it’s embarrassing. He’ll pretend he didn’t do that.

Usagi: Those snacks were specifically meant to aid in your recovery. Unknown: so idk how familiar u are w baby brothers but typically mike gets whatever he wants

Yuichi thinks of his youngest cousin Jomei. Tiny and soft, with huge gray eyes, and unfortunately already self-aware at four years old. If Mike—Michelangelo, Yuichi thinks he remembers the boy being called—is even half as powerful as Jomei, then Leonardo’s blueberry buckle didn’t stand a chance.

Usagi: Fair enough.

It’s a good thing he woke up early. He doesn’t get anything else done for hours. Leonardo is an enthusiastic conversation partner at all times, and his texts manage to translate that energy effortlessly.

Typically, Yuichi lets his friends save their contact IDs in his phone however they want. Leonardo isn’t there to do it himself, but Yuichi makes the rookie mistake of giving him free reign anyway. So Leonardo insists his number go in under ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️ and Yuichi has something to roll his eyes at every time they message each other.

It also makes him feel warm. There’s an affectionate little tug in his chest at this clear proof of Leonardo in his hands.

Now that he has this unfettered access to the very same person he wants to talk to all the time, Yuichi checks his phone a lot more than he used to over the next couple days. He even keeps it in his waist apron pocket at work, which some of the other servers do, which technically isn’t against the rules because none of them have abused the privilege so far.

Yuichi will feel extremely bad and guilty if he’s the one who abuses the privilege and ruins it for everyone. But when it vibrates in his pocket while he’s going outside to dump the trash anyway, he might as well linger for an extra minute and check his messages, right? Right??

Once, Señor Hueso catches Yuichi lingering in the employee lounge after his lunch break is well over, moving at a snail’s pace back toward the dining room with his nose buried in his phone. He almost walks right into his boss’s chest, saved only by the last-minute sense of someone else’s immediate presence that Karasu-Tengu-sensei mercilessly trained into him years ago. So he freezes a few inches away instead and his eyes dart up to the skeleton yokai’s unamused expression.

Oh boy. Señor Hueso is generally a very patient person but he’s no-nonsense about work. Is Yuichi in trouble? Is he going to get fired?

“I’msosorry,” Yuichi whispers.

But instead of scolding him, Señor Hueso only gives a pointed look to the phone in Yuichi’s hands and says sternly, “You tell Pepino to give it a rest. He’s still recovering from a concussion, he doesn’t need to be staring at a screen all day, madre de dios. Please be a good influence.”

“You don’t know I was talking to Leonardo,” Yuichi says defensively. He has other friends he could be texting! Then he takes a second look at the older yokai’s face and backtracks immediately. “I mean. Uh. Yes, sir. I’ll tell him.”

“Good. Now you have tables seated in your section.”

It’s a dismissal if Usagi’s ever heard one, so he scurries into the dining room with five times his original speed, sending one last message before he shoves his phone away.

Usagi: Señor says no more screen time while you’re recovering from a concussion. ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: what?? how even??? ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: he doesn’t KNOW ur taking to me

Thank you, that’s exactly what Yuichi said!

He makes it a point to actually focus for the rest of his shift, but it’s a Wednesday afternoon, and things are slow. Sunita is off for the day, and Qiao is studying at the bar when they’re not actively pouring drinks, and those are the only two coworkers Yuichi is familiar enough to strike up conversation with, so he keeps to his own section and works quietly.

It’s been brought up a couple of times now, in passing—Leonardo’s condition. Apparently, even a month after the invasion, he’s still healing. Yuichi didn’t know the symptoms of a concussion could last whole weeks. He doesn’t really know much about kappa, or whatever manner of creature Leonardo and his brothers are, but for a head injury to be that severe…

Suddenly, the sight of Raphael’s damaged eye jumps to the front of Yuichi’s memory. The clean hole in the big turtle’s rock-solid carapace. What the hell could have done that? What happened to them?

His brain is coming up with nightmare fuel like that’s its job. Something horrible went down behind-the-scenes while Yuichi was completely ignorant—while Yuichi was waiting tables and getting into trouble with Kitsune and Gen and helping with the tomato harvest, Leonardo and his family were in almost certain danger. And Yuichi didn’t know.

He plops down on a stool at the bar at the tail end of his last break for the day, and Qiao wordlessly slides him a cranberry juice on the rocks.

“How do I get my friend to tell me about something that may or may not be a sensitive subject?” he blurts.

“Have you tried asking him about it?” the ram yokai replies in a tone that manages to be both over-exaggerated and monotone.

Yuichi doesn’t even know why he bothers. He taps his phone on the counter a few times, takes a big gulp of cranberry juice that he pretends is something much stronger, then goes for it.

Usagi: I need to talk to you. ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: oooooo ominous Usagi: It’s not ominous, weirdo. I have to go now but I’m off at 7.

Any normal person would have taken that last text at face-value, but Yuichi isn’t dealing with a normal person, is he?

So maybe he should have been expecting it when he leaves the restaurant a few hours later and finds Leonardo waiting for him outside. He's leaning heavily on one of his katana, either in an attempt to look cool or because he’s having trouble staying upright.

Yuichi is not inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he blurts. His flat tone definitely does not convey his shock, but he’s feeling too much right now to articulate any of it properly.

Leonardo laughs out loud. It’s a different sound than it used to be—hoarse and a little restrained, like he’s trying to remember he doesn’t have to be quiet. But it’s still bright, and it still makes Yuichi’s heart do backflips in his chest.

He’s wearing a hooded sweatshirt that looks way too big to belong to him, a deep maroon color, repaired with clumsy pink stitches along the shoulders. One of the sleeves is hiked up to Leonardo’s elbow, due to the unwieldy cast on his left forearm, covered in doodles and stickers. The hoodie is unzipped down the front, so Yuichi can make out the cracks in Leonardo’s plastron, spiderweb lines cutting cruelly through the armored scutes. It’s hard to imagine the kind of pressure it would have taken to crush his shell—the same kind that drilled that hole through Raphael’s? What happened to them?

The skin around Leonardo’s neck and the side of his face is still discolored from what must have been pretty nasty bruises, and there are puffy red marks where scars haven’t settled yet. He looks older than the last time Yuichi saw him.

But he’s here. And he’s smiling, a footprint of that laughter left on his face. And now he’s—oh boy, now he’s starting to list to the side.

Yuichi crosses the distance between them at a run, catching Leonardo by the arm before he can topple all the way over.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Yuichi says waspishly, afraid to let him go.

“You wouldn’t,” Leonardo says cheerfully. He’s leaning heavily against Yuichi’s shoulder, his hand is shaking as he sheathes his katana over his shoulder, seriously, what the fuck is he doing here? “Everyone’s cussed me out at least once since I woke up. Add you to the list.”

Flustered, Yuichi says, “I did not do that.”

“You did! You said the fuck word!”

Yuichi rolls his eyes and begins the process of dragging Leonardo toward the nearest bench, staring down anyone who drifts into their path. The tree yokai already reclining there takes one look at Yuichi’s expression, grabs her bag, and takes off without a word.

Maybe he’ll feel bad about being impolite later. He doesn’t have any room for it in his brain right now. He doesn’t even think he remembers to breathe until Leonardo is safely sitting down, slumping onto the bench seat like someone five times his age.

Yuichi crouches down in front of him, giving him a hard look. If he needs medical attention, Yuichi will kick Run of the Mill’s doors down and drag Señor Hueso out here by his tie. Who needs a part-time job anyway?

But Leonardo seems to be okay now that he’s caught his breath, and he’s still grinning, like Yuichi is the best thing he’s seen in days.

“Do you use your scary face to get what you want all the time, or is this a special occasion?” the turtle asks coyly.

“I am beginning to understand why everyone has cussed you out since you woke up this morning,” Yuichi replies, sitting back on his heels.

Something tight that’s been clenched in his chest like a closed fist has suddenly loosened, a letting go when Yuichi didn’t even know he’d been holding on.

He’s missed Leonardo. Being around him has always been easy, even when looking directly at him is like staring into the sun, even when Yuichi’s words get lost somewhere between his head and his throat and he ends up spending most of their conversations just listening and watching.

“Not since this morning,” Leonardo interjects. “Can you imagine everyone getting on my case like that all in one day? That would just be bullying. I meant since the coma.”

There it is again. Little breadcrumbs, teasing scraps of information.

Yuichi gazes up at him, and has at least a dozen questions he wants to ask. That’s why Leonardo is here, even if he doesn’t realize it. Yuichi’s curiosity inadvertently dragged his friend from the safety of his home and the safe harbor of his family to the chaotic streets of the Hidden City.

The trip itself seems to have been hard on him, when usually it’s little-to-no-effort to step through a portal between one location and the next. His forehead gleams with sweat, and he’s still breathing a little heavily, like he just ran a marathon. He’s a pale shade of the vibrant boy Yuichi first met a year ago. He looks like he regrets bringing up the coma.

But he’s still here.

Abruptly, Yuichi doesn’t want to ask any of his questions. He just wants his friend to be here.

When Leonardo says, “Sooo, what’s so serious you dragged me all the way out here?” Yuichi pushes himself to his feet and takes the seat on the bench beside him with a theatrical sigh.

“Nothing, Leonardo,” he lies. “I just wanted to talk to you. You’re the one who jumped to conclusions.”

Some tense line in Leonardo’s shoulders that Yuichi hadn’t noticed before seems to go lax, even as he rolls his eyes. “I’m a ninja, we jump, it’s a whole thing. Anyway, more importantly, did I see a stall selling dumplings down the street or nah?”

“There’s no way I can convince you to stay on this bench, is there?” Yuichi knows the answer already and he’s getting up before Leonardo has a chance to say anything, offering him his hands. When Leonardo takes them, Yuichi hauls him up onto his feet.

They stand there together for a moment, neither of them letting go. Yuichi doesn’t even feel the usual need to spring away from him before he gets too close because he’s missed this stupid guy. And his stupid face, and his stupid big hands, and the stupid way Yuichi feels around him.

Whatever happened to him, happened. Yuichi can’t change that now. And if Leonardo wants to tell him about it, he will. But Yuichi gets the feeling that what Leonardo really wants right now is to feel normal. To feel like maybe one thing in his life is the same as it’s always been.

“Dumplings,” Yuichi announces, with all the enthusiasm of his little cousins faced with the unjust trial of bedtime. “If you fall on your face, I’m leaving you there.”

“If I don’t, you’re buying,” Leonardo quips back.

Yuichi scowls, remembers he’s still holding Leonardo’s hands, and then sort of forgets how to person for long enough that Leonardo lets go and goes a few steps without him. His brain literally goes offline for a minute. That’s never happened before.

“No it’s okay,” he hears Leonardo saying to someone on the street nearby. “It’s not his fault, he’s never been the same, you know, not since the storm.”

Fur bristling, Yuichi hustles to catch up, hopefully before Leonardo has done any actual lasting damage to his reputation. He has an image to maintain around here! He’s Usagi Miyamoto’s direct descendant, and Miyamoto was never anything but cool!

“Quit making up lore about me!” he hisses.

“Quit being weird!” Leonardo replies, clearly enjoying himself. “Dumplings!”

Yuichi scowls but falls into step beside him anyway. This is the guy he missed so much?

As soon as he has that uncharitable thought, he regrets it.

He thinks about April saying he always seemed pissed off to have Leonardo around, and darts a quick look at the striped turtle ambling along beside him. Leonardo doesn’t seem put off by Yuichi’s prickly attitude, but still—it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.

Yuichi waits until they’ve paid the elderly yokai woman running the food stall for two paper plates of crispy gyoza, so he has something to do with his hands, something to focus on besides his awkward tongue, to say, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Leonardo glances sidelong at him, crunching through a dumpling unselfconsciously. His mouth is full but his expression very clearly says ‘say what now?’

“Here, I mean,” Yuichi tells his plate. “Back here. I didn’t even know you were—I’m just glad you’re better.”

They walk the length of the block before Leonardo replies.

“I wouldn’t worry about us, Usagi. Me and my brothers can take a hit. You could even say we were made for it.” That’s a strange sentiment, and something bitter comes and goes across Leonardo’s face before Yuichi can make sense of it, as swift and darting as the little minnows that flit through the creek that winds past his family’s farm. Then Leonardo adds, sounding much more like himself, “My stupid arm is all that’s slowing me down now.”

“Considering it was broken in eight places, I would take six weeks in a cast as a solid win,” someone says from directly behind them.

Yuichi doesn’t jump in shock, he freezes, rabbit-still. Leonardo doesn’t seem surprised at all—he just groans theatrically.

“Oh nooo, it’s the consequences of my actions.”

Donatello snorts. Because that’s who it is, Yuichi realizes as he turns to get a good look at him.

“You can’t just run off, Nardo,” the purple-masked turtle says. His tone implies that this is not a suggestion. “You get why that’s uncool and unfair, right? Like, I don’t have to explain that very simple, elementary-level concept to you?”

“I left a note,” Leonardo argues in his own defense.

“You sure did,” Donatello replies, so level and calm that it sets Yuichi’s whiskers on edge, because that level calmness is very much a thinly veiled promise of bodily harm. “You left a note on your door that said “Do Not Disturb, Beauty Sleep in Progress.” And then you left one on your empty bed that you just drew a winky face on.”

“I realized I didn’t need any more beauty sleep, Dontron. I decided to save some for the rest of you sad scrubs. You’re welcome.”

“How magnanimous.”

Beyond the color-coded masks and the dramatically different body shapes and skin tones, there’s another easy way to tell the Hamato siblings apart; all of them have brown eyes in varying shades. Michelangelo’s are warm, tempered honey, while Raphael’s are darker and richer, edging into red.

Leonardo and Donatello, the twins, have identical golden eyes, piercing and impossibly bright even in the semi-dark of falling dusk. Under the warm lantern light, with their defining characteristics all but overshadowed, it would probably be easy to mistake them for a perfect mirror of each other.

But Yuichi could never make that mistake. Donatello’s eyes are different, because the way he looks at Yuichi is different.

Especially now. Where Leonardo was delighted to see Yuichi for the first time since before the invasion, Donatello is looking at Yuichi like he’s a clear and present threat.

Yuichi doesn’t know what Donatello has to feel threatened about. He has a good grasp of his own abilities and he’s self-aware enough to admit that Donatello could definitely take him in a fair fight. Any of his siblings probably could, up to and including his sister, out of stubbornness and spite alone. Yuichi is the one who feels hunted, like a tiny fluffy animal that was just sighted by a bored, hungry hawk, all because of the cold, calculating gold in Donatello’s eyes.

Then Leonardo plants his good hand on the side of his twin’s face and shoves it an arm’s length away. Donatello sputters and flails, and Leonardo talks over him with the ease of years of practice.

“Thanks for the dumplings,” Leonardo tells him. “See you when I’m finally un-grounded, someday seven years from now.”

Yuichi nods, offering a little wave. He watches Leonardo unsheathe a katana and form a bright, spinning blue portal with one swift downward slice through the air. Donatello is griping at him in harsh undertones, and Leonardo is giving back as good as he gets, but it doesn’t escape Yuichi that Donatello has gravitated protectively to Leonardo’s bad side, and Leonardo is leaning his weight against his brother like he’s actually much more tired than he was willing to let on.

Leonardo needs a break. He needs fresh air. He needs to—to not disappear again, even if it probably won’t actually be for seven years.

Before he can second-guess himself, Yuichi blurts, “I’m off on Friday! You should come to the farm. One of our tokage’s nestlings just hatched so we have babies to play with and they’re really cute!”

Donatello makes an antagonistic noise under his breath and hauls Leonardo through the portal. Before he disappears, Yuichi watches Leonardo’s whole body light up, a grin splitting his face in half.

“It’s a date!” Leonardo calls cheerfully in the seconds before he’s gone.

The portal closes. Yuichi stares at the empty space where it used to exist while the word “date” bounces around in his head like a free-floating balloon filled with screaming instead of the more traditional helium.

Usagi: Important time-sensitive HYPOTHETICAL question Usagi: When you make plans with your friend and he calls it a date, how do you ask what he means by that without sounding like an insane person?? SUNA: oh my god!!!!!! ꒰☉ｪ☉꒱

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #leosagi #leoichi #usagi yuichi #hamato leonardo #hamato donatello #my writing #tmnt fic #bushido boyfriends #these bright blue city lights

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