#but I would've thought it'd be normal to like. Maybe thank them? At least?

[humanmorph]

coworker just told me about drama at the employee meeting I didn't attend bc I had front desk shift & I'm not sure if I should be glad I wasn't there or sad I missed it

[urav1tys-world]

Hi, could you make a tanjiro x reader where the reader is actually secretly a ghost? (You don't have to.)

Make sure to take care of your health!!

Tanjiro x GHOST! reader

Thanks so much for this first request! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

And thank you, take care!

(gender neutral reader, unless asked otherwise or stated)

First of all, I think a ghost reader, would most likely be some kind of demon, maybe like Lady Tamayo with the limited blood supply from the banks or donors.

Ghost powers obviously, like going through Walls, people, and other things, I believe it'd also be cool if ghost!reader could see other ghosts, spirits, all the supernatural things.

Blood demon art, only some have blood demon art, so if the normal ghost powers are enough then that's ok, but for blood demon art, maybe some controlling spirits, something like that, something very supernatural themed.

Maybe you could even have some ghost friends.

SUNLIGHT! I think that, as much as being like nezuko with being able to be in the sun, which you can choose obviously, if you like that better, I think that it'd make more sense if Ghost!reader could only be out in the night, like other demons. (It's also cool for the whole ghost thing)

How you died is up to you, but how you turned into a demon might be from another demon and their blood, or something else.

How you met Kamado Tanjiro

If you want some sort of calm meeting, i think I might have a nice concept

One day, you were floating around, peacefully floating in a flower field at midnight, (normal human things right?/j), and Tanjiro, who happens to be done with a mission, making his way to find somewhere to stay for the night, when all of a sudden as he's looking at all the willow trees, he sees you, in the flower field.

As he gets closer, he sees you sitting in the field of white flowers, and senses a different scent coming from you, as if rain and wet leaves, but also maybe some hints of other things.

He'd probably be concerned, I mean, seeing some random person at night, in an empty flower field, pretty weird right?

So, I think he'd try to silently approach you.

You notice him of course and turn around and look at him

Which he noticed, stopping in his tracks, as if he's a deer in headlights.

He obviously speaks up, asking if you're alright, which you nod at after a few seconds of just staring at him.

He'd probably ask if you'd like to find an inn with him, so you're not alone, especially at those hours.

(maybe I'll make this a one shot, more detailed of course)

I think after you guys know each other for longer, you'd meet zenitsu and insouke.

When zenitsu met you, let's just say it wasn't a calm first meeting, he was...scared, to say the least.

The poor guy probably thought he was going to die, and that you were going to steal his soul. (which you can do, but not that you would).

Zenitsu can probably sense a sort of eerie sound from you, maybe even like wind blowing and rain.

He was probably yelling and screaming and crying about how he's going to die.

Inosuke, on the other hand, would've probably said hi, and just stared at you weird, he'd probably bluntly call you freaky looking.

Tanjiro, knowing you and being more level headed and being more mannerful, would probably firmly tell zenitsu to stop freaking out, which would probably make zenitsu cling to him and cry about how he's going to let the reader kill him.

Inosuke would probably start cackling and boasting about how you'd never be able to kill him, and he'd twist you up before you can even step forward.

Which probably makes zenitsu scream at Tanjiro and inosuke, telling them to make sure you don't kill him.

Nezuko, being the calmest one there, would probably stare up at you and walk closer. (Which in turn would make zenitsu stop and stare, before screaming even louder)

(again, I would love to make this maybe a one shot in the future)

After a while, you of course get to know the whole group better.

How he realized he had feelings for you

Oddly enough, I feel like when he realized he had feelings for you, is when he realized you were some sort of ghost.

Of course, he was a bit shocked, but after the initial shock, many things made sense to him.

Especially your insistence of not going out in the sun.

I think he would most likely try to ask you about it, and if you would make up excuses or try to leave, he'd probably try to find a way to somewhat corner you, making sure you're still comfortable though.

I think after you too talk about how you're a ghost and all that stuff it would make you guys closer.

Now you don't have to hide a part of you from him!

Considering this is already really long

I will be making a pt2

(or editing this to be longer with the rest)

Sorry this took me a few days, I was a bit busy with life and all that. Hope you enjoy! <3

[stillness138]

can i ask for two characters: gezras of leyda and thaler? if not you can choose one of them xD

oooh nice, thanks! gonna do both

and cut it because it's gonna get long :D

Thaler

first impression:

i think i first saw him in gwent actually, and that was when 'silver spies' were still a thing. he was a pretty good card back then. only learned about his character once i watched a witcher 3 playthrough on youtube though. i don't recall it that well, but if i thought anything particular, it was probably "i hope he'll wash his hands at some point soon" because he's literally peeing at the start of the cutscene.

impression now:

he's cool! questionable hygiene aside, i love characters that have like, a thing? as in, a simple but fun premise or at least a surface reading. he's a spy, but very dedicated to the shoemaker cover, and that's how he manages to get by in an occupied land. i like that there's a little throughline with him about appearances often being deceiving. the shoes are one thing, but even further, he seems like a crude, self-serving bum, yet his loyality to Temeria is something so integral it's not even a question. This country really lucked out on devoted spies. Foltest was just that charismatic.

favorite thing about him:

willingness to do anything, no matter how uncomfortable, for the country. i think i like it because it's different from Roche's brand of servitude. again, cdpr is pretty good at writing ocs.

thinking about it now, he reminds me of a few guys i know. rural Temeria is, from an outside view, a cold, wet, kinda bleak bumfuck middle of nowhere, yet Thaler has this air of loving the physical country for what it is - he even mentions that he prefers the travelling more than a different cover like being an innkeep. like it doesn't bother him that it's cold, it seems he finds comfort in it in his own way. i find that kinda sweet.

least favorite thing:

seriously mate wash your hands 😭

i'd also rather cdpr didn't make him a vessel for racist jokes in the first game. (i swear i was looking for the exact clip where he talks about Azar and couldn't find it, i need to play the first game properly...)

favorite line/scene:

[how are you doing?] "A bit like a potato beetle. I keep quiet, stay outta trouble, and live on fucking potatoes."

i saw only a few scenes from witcher 1 and they were dubbed in czech, which adds to the hilarity of it to me, but his voice actor probably had a field day with it. "Nedělej si ze mě kurva srandu, seš zasranej amatér." [Geralt: will you play poker with me? Thaler: Don't fucking bullshit me, you're a goddamn amateur.]

favorite interaction he has with another character:

befriending and handling the three trolls. game Lambert has something to learn from him in that regard.

a character that I wish he would interact with more (or at all):

imagine if he appeared in the second game in any capacity, that would've been fun. in wild hunt, it's the same as with Roche: i wish the entire politics plotline was better. if i had to pick one character, it'd be Letho. there would be a lot of profanities but i actually believe Thaler would have more to say than even Roche at Kaer Morhen.

another character from another fandom that reminds me of him:

again i only know 5 things, and the only method acting spy in elder scrolls is Caius Cosades from Morrowind, whose similarities to Thaler pretty much end at taking a cover story too seriously.

as a side note though, i went to tv tropes to look at character lists in case i forgot about someone i actually do know, and in "sir swears-a-lot" subpage for videogame characters i found Thaler twice; gwent has its own separate mention. legends only.

a headcanon about him:

if Roche likes architecture, i think Thaler really enjoys music. maybe he even plays the lute. i'm also really curious about his youth and how he ended up a spy, but i do think it's quite different than Roche's background. i imagine he had a lot of friends as a kid and a comparably normal home life, but always showed talent for remembering what people say and for getting them to say even more.

a song that reminds me of him:

it's more vibes based than anything, but this czech song, most known from a movie. zmrzlinář means ice cream seller. it's all kinda... reminiscing, nostalgia and trying to find something nice or poetic in ordinary things (and in the case of the movie, in a shitty political regime). short movie version isn't on youtube, so i gotta upload it here.

an unpopular opinion about him:

this is less about the text and more meta, but i genuinely think he has a load of potential for exploring loyality, northern politics, motivation, and tropes or trope subversion (like the appearance thing i mentioned), but people sleep on him because Roche is right there. that's not to say dissecting Roche doesn't have merit - like i said, they're similar, but each has a different approach to what they do and what they believe.

favorite picture:

probably the gwent card. it says what it needs to and is surprisingly fun or even whimsical for a character most known for swearing on every third word. i think that's a neat choice though.

Gezras

first impression:

the cat school is, beside manticore, my favourite, so when the witcher expansion dropped i was curious who the leader will be next to Erland or Ivar. i wasn't disappointed. pretty sure i thought he's cute.

impression now:

*gently holds*

where Erland continued performing the trials to create a knightly order, Gezras and the growing cat school did it to protect themselves. it's the witcher dissected towards its core; a cycle of abuse maintained as something deemed necessary despite its harmfulness, out of desperation, out of a sense of belonging, out of losing touch with what's enough and what's too much.

and all that in pursuit of autonomy. Gezras; sold, experimented on, discarded, hunted. the fact the formula used on him was meant to suppress emotion yet ended up doing the opposite is a testament to that - this is about being treated as human. the trials are literally reclaimed, to strengthen other abandoned and thrown-out stray kids. to enact revenge. it's no wonder then that they'd seek refuge with the elves. the cat school was the one that took systemic oppression the most personally.

favorite thing about him:

that he's a unique exploration of the things i just mentioned. i find this very compelling and him relatable on that level, as an abuse survivor myself.

also his gwent card art and the bags under his eyes. that's relatable too.

least favorite thing:

it's meta again because i'm near incapable of judging the character without judging the writer: the little bit there is in gwent leans too much towards the edgy. he does have one voiceline about elven sages which i find especially interesting, but given that his trial ended up enhancing all emotions, if you want to show that somehow, give me rapid mood swings or something like that. gimme nuance!

this is me wanting every minor character to have dimensions.

favorite line/scene:

his flavor text; "Take a contract from Aen Seidhe over a dh'oine any day, as you’re far less likely to receive a knife between the ribs in place of coin."

favorite interaction he has with another character:

i think he actually has no lines or scenes with any named characters apart from the expansion key art where all the founders are together, because unlike the other three, he wasn't in the tabletop rpg books. i do however like his card's interaction with the bronze that happens to have my most favourite card art. there's awesome fanart about it too!

a character that I wish he would interact with more (or at all):

any named elf of his era, naturally, and especially the sages, but i am actually curious how he'd react to all of the other founders. Erland, i think i can imagine, but given both Arnaghad and Ivar ended up opposing Erland, that'd be more interesting. and even Iwan, the founder of manticore school as per the trpg, maybe he'd be the one Gezras would find most common ground with actually. If only for leaving the other three to their squabbles and seeking work and protection in a more equal society.

another character from another fandom that reminds me of him:

this is weird and i'm going to bring it up again, but Gezras reminds me of Allinall's work. weird because these are takes or adaptations of other media - particularly elder scrolls and berserk - but he specifically brings forth similar themes; conflicts of humans and elves, othering and otherness, cyclical abuse, coping mechanisms. the concrete characters i'm thinking of are Allinall's oc from the elder scrolls project and Rosine (and by extension the in-world fairytale character Peekaf) from the berserk project.

the nameless oc, mostly referred to as "One-Ear", had mixed parents, their human father cut their ear off in an attempt to hide their identity, even though their yellow sclera is undeniably elven. they join (or rather, their vulnerable state of trauma is exploited and they're indoctrinated by) a regime that aims to end material existence. Rosine is also a domestic abuse survivor, a village girl who comes across a promise of power in the form of an evil artifact that turns her into a moth-like elf monster. she starts devolving into bloodthirst and allows for horrible stuff to happen in order to maintain a fantasy of comfort and freedom.

a headcanon about him:

i didn't come up with it, but i love the idea that him and the saber-tooth tiger were buddies.

i think it's safe to assume that he's not actually from Leyda. if he was mutated at Stygga, he more likely was a local kid from Ebbing. I do also think he stayed in Dol Blathanna at some point when the school was wandering around, though.

and maybe that's too shallow, but i like to imagine he did genuinely enjoy being in nature. and if he ever conducted any trials by his own, he might've been notably good at herbology.

a song that reminds me of him:

'To Die' by Allinall (relating to One-Ear), and Peekaf Song (to Rosine).

as for more personal picks, my forever favourite, Nihilist Blues by Bring Me The Horizon (and Grimes); "do you mind if i'm exhumed?"

and Unraveled by Lorn, which is kinda ambient, but i like the harsher noises and associate it with my own search-for-identity oc.

an unpopular opinion about him:

Gezras is more interesting to me personally because of that focus on abuse, autonomy and revenge, and he's already a bit on the side because Erland and Arnaghad's conflict is at the forefront when this era of witchers comes up, but i think Ivar Evil-Eye needs even more love. despite being in the trpg, no one talks about him (he has that in common with Thaler i guess) and that's a disservice to the viper school as a whole, i think it's just as fascinating and has just as much unique and profound stuff to say as the cat school's story.

favorite picture:

his gwent card is in my top 20, but i especially like his reward tree portrait; it's the most detailed likeness we have. the mega tired eyes just draw me in.

[cirquedumoi]

Lo, another fanfic! Once again for a LU Discord prompt, this time for Legend Week. Proofread by Oh Sibling Dearest (@thorns-for-the-sake-of-flowers), who also pointed put that I was massively overthinking how to write the middle of the fic. Anyways, Legend & Wind get stuck in a cave, and neither have a particularly good time. (From Legend's P.O.V)

As a sidenote, I had their pronouns picked out before realising I'd never use Legend's, so have them anyways lol:

Legend: Ce/Cir/Cirs/Cirself (Genderqueer)

Wind: He/Him

Wild (mentioned): They/He (Genderfluid)

((Ao3 link))

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Thank whatever deity was listening that neither of us got seriously hurt. However, it did mean that now we had no way of getting help from the others. I could only hope they heard the collapse.

��Fuckin’ hell that sucked,”

“Usually I’d tell you off for swearing, Sailor, but you’re not wrong. It’s also not like the others are here to tell you off,” Being honest, I never really cared about swearing, but it’s funny to see the reactions.

“As if yer ever serious about it,” Wind retorted, smirking. A frown soon overtook that, though. “I hope the others heard that. Not that I hate ya or anything, this is just…”

“Not ideal. I get it,” I sighed. “So much for ‘quality bonding time’,”

“Ha, yeah. Wonder what happened, though. Things don’t normally fall down on their own,”

“I can't feel any magical bullshit here, so it was probably going to happen regardless of who came in next.” I mean, something could've happened, but it was unlikely that it was anything against us.

“Sucks that it had to be us. Also, I'd be surprised if ya don't have something to help,” Wind's statement was fair enough, however I very much did not have anything we could use. That would've been due to Wind's (and Time's) insistence that we shouldn't need much. Just our luck.

“At least you have your necklace,” I hoped it'd work. He'd never let me have a look at it before, despite my curiosity.

“Ah, yeah!” He pulled his necklace out from under his shirt. A faint glow outlined his face as got to work on trying to get through to Wild. I also wasn’t sure why it could connect to Wild's slate, their magic was completely different to the Sailor's. After what I guessed were a few attempts, Wind sighed. The glow faded, darkness again swallowing the cave.

“He's not answering. I guess they don't have the slate with them,”

“Might be swimming. The gods know they wanted to,” From what Wind had said before we split off, the beach wasn't too far from here. Besides that, the Champion had a knack for finding new places.

“Yeah, maybe,” He sighed, a soft thump bouncing around the walls as he sat down. “Why did we have to go to this cave? We could've gone with everyone else, or at least found a better cave,”

“Well there were, and still are, lots of crystals in here, and I know you like them. Also, you wanted to ‘explore the wilderness’. And drag me along,” Could just be an effect of the collapse, but I was starting to get a headache.

“Ye wanted to come! It's also not like I overly wanted to look in here. For all I know, us just walking in here made it collapse!”

“I’m sorry, are you trying to imply that I caused this mess!?” How dare he, the idiot didn’t- no, couldn’t do anything to stop this either. That did not make it my-

“I didn’t really mean to, no.” I barely caught him staring at me through the darkness. I did miss him mumbling something else though. Which… Is fairly out of character for the one who likes to make his thoughts known.

“If you're going to say something, could you speak up?” That came out harsher than I meant. A sigh came in response.

“Are ye?” What did he-?

“Am I what?”

“I- I don’t think this was yer fault despite what I said, neither of us could’ve stopped it,” He started, seeming to catch himself before he started rambling. “But… do you?"

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Our Hearts Collide - Chapter 38 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Vince

Sam didn't strike me as someone who would listen to 80's classics but I guess I should've guessed that his taste in music would match Cindy's diner, he practically lived there.

With many miscellaneous supplies and boxes in my lap, it wasn't like I could reach over and change the channel either if I wanted.

The music didn't bother me, as it helped fill the silence once we had sat in the car and driven off the pack's premises.

Normally, silent car rides were fine, I preferred it over chaotic car rides with Xavier but being alone with Sam was still awkward.

Whether Sam thought the same, he didn't give any indication.

Before I could try and fill the silence during a break in one of the songs, Sam said cool-like...

"I'm surprised you're taking the news well."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes before fixating on the road.

"Truthfully, I was wondering what was taking so long. I may be oblivious sometimes but even I could see something between you two."

He laughed.

"Yeah, well, Xavier's been stressed lately with pack business and I thought it was best he figures things out for himself at his own pace. Didn't want to overwhelm him and suggest we become official when he's got so many things on his plate."

"If I'm being honest, I think he likes keeping busy. Working under pressure is what got him to make all these changes within our pack so far."

Sam nodded as we reached a red light.

"True, though I am quite surprised that Xavier brought it up first."

"About being official?"

With Sam's cheeky smile, I scoffed.

There was no way.

"He brought it up first?"

"Caught me off guard," Sam admitted as his eyes focused back on the road.

"Wasn't that long ago, either."

"When was this? There's no way Xavier would've been able to keep this a secret for long."

"Right after he met with the pack Alpha from the South."

I blinked, my mind drifting back to my conversation with Xavier over the phone.

"He actually took my advice?"

"Does he not usually?"

Sam pulled into the clinic's parking lot.

"I didn't think he'd listen right after."

If I was being honest, I thought it'd take at least six months for Xavier even to consider my advice about telling Sam his feelings.

The fact it took him maybe six minutes?

Damn, it felt nice.

Sam must've noticed by the grin on my face that it was rare for Xavier to take my advice or at least not this type of advice.

He nudged my shoulder.

"Come on, let's get the supplies in."

Struggling with the seatbelt with all the boxes on my lap, Sam walked around to grab a few boxes, setting them on the hood of his truck.

One of Sam's front desk workers stepped out to help with the other supplies.

"There's not a whole lot of storage, we've got a whole bunch of patients this past week, so we've had to set up some temporary kennels and cages in our normal storage areas," one of his staff said.

"I'll show you where."

It wasn't long until we squeezed the boxes into a corner, finding other spots in the small clinic to put the bigger pieces of equipment.

"Thanks again," Sam said as we leaned against one of the tables, curious patients watching us through the kennels.

"One of our patients just delivered the other night," Sam said, gesturing to the kennel at the bottom.

"Five pups, all healthy and happy. Care to meet them?"

"Might as well."

The mother, a mixed breed that looked to have husky in her, poked her head up.

Nestled against her were her weaning pups, one draped across her shoulder.

Sam sat cross-legged on the floor, popping the lock on the kennel to pet Mocha, as the info card stated.

Surprisingly the mother wasn't growling or showing signs of protectiveness, letting Sam check the pups.

I sat down beside him.

Sam gingerly lifted one, an all-black fur with white socks, handing the pup over to me.

Instinctively, I cupped my hands, letting the warm pup settle.

My heart raced from holding a small living creature, especially in front of their mother and yet, Mocha hadn't growled, barely even batting her eyes toward me as Sam scooped another, placing one that pulled more husky colors onto his lap.

"It's why I do what I do," Sam said.

"Why I prefer the clinic here. Leaving this place would mean I wouldn't get to help the regular patients I see, those who can't afford the clinics in neighboring cities."

"Despite the commute to the pack?"

He nodded.

"As much as I'd love to live closer to Xavier and everyone else, I don't think I could pick up and move when I have all of these animals to care for. Besides, you know well that rogues aren't always inclined to be treated by packs, either. Some prefer how low-key and private our location is."

Knowing that Simon had stayed here to recover from his hip surgery, it made sense why Sam enjoyed this line of work.

Before Xavier had expanded and made our Rogue Center more accessible, the pack's treatment and setup weren't helpful at all to long-term recovery, nor did it seem as inviting as before.

With its high chain-link fences and high-ranking guards, it made sense why people sought small clinics like Sam's.

Especially for patients like Mocha, I couldn't imagine a pregnant rogue would want to have sought refuge at our pack back then.

With the pup in the palm of my hand, mewling cute sounds, a distant memory resurfaced.

"When I was younger, I asked for a puppy one year for my birthday."

Sam looked up, his dorky smile appearing.

"Really?"

I nodded, laughing at the sheer irony and how ridiculous it sounded.

"I think I was like five. Of course, that didn't happen but at five years old, I didn't understand why a werewolf couldn't have a puppy."

"I can imagine," Sam said.

"You were probably devastated."

"It wasn't so bad, Xavier was born just after that, so my wishes sort of came true."

Sam just shook his head, most likely in disbelief or amusement.

"That's actually adorable."

"Funnily enough, Xavier had also asked for a puppy when he was younger," I mused.

"Well, anything really. He'd open up one of those kid's books with all the animals and tell my mom he wanted one. Pretty sure he asked for a giraffe at one point. Hence if you snoop in his closet, you'll probably find his obscene amount of stuffed animals my mom would buy to placate him until he says he wants another."

Sam huffed.

"Now that I can see. I imagine the same way he looks at the menu at Cindy's and points to the pictures instead of saying what he'd like."

"I thought he'd grow out of that by now."

"Nope."

"Good luck," I told him.

"You'll need it."

[mcrcki]

"okay, i have reached my quota of people joking about me sleeping with their fathers for the week, thanks so much, babe." at least they both were trying to cope with humor, because if only one of them was making a joke right now, she knew it would just end poorly. "it really wasn't that bad. i don't even think i need stitches." vi didn't want to deal with the questions, and would be happy to just deflect any inquiries towards xaden, especially when she was certain she wouldn't bring up the fact that it was her boyfriend's fucking father who had stabbed her. despite the seriousness of the conversation, the weight that felt like it was crushing both of them as they had to deal with yet another complication in their lives, vi felt a smile grow, cheeks warm at the compliment. it almost hurt, how normal the conversation felt for just a moment. that he was still him, despite the ring around his eyes, despite what she knew could happen if they weren't careful. he was still xaden, and that was all she needed to keep fucking fighting. she wouldn't live without these moments in her life. she wouldn't live without him. "yeah, maybe." she adds, eyes dropping to focus on his hands at her arm, knowing there was never another path for him, that there was never another path for her either. no matter the promises her father had given her, she would have always ended up on that parapet. and while at first, she had been bitter and ready to prove everyone wrong, now, violet knew the riders was where she belonged. "i hate lying." she huffed, finally looking back at him, getting more and more used to seeing his eyes looking.. different, that it didn't shock her anymore. small things to be thankful for, i guess.. "i'm still surprised it worked on you, i tried talking to tairn in his head and i think it made him think i'm more insane. besides, ridoc is so not helping the cause right now, and i can't just keep sitting back and watching them all... gods, it's so selfish isn't it? that i;m wanting them back when i know the truth will just hurt, and they're happy now.." was she a bad person, for wanting to have all of her friends back, while she knew the pain that would follow their memories? just so she didn't have to keep living without her family? "yeah i do not want to be on the receiving end of sgaeyl's protectiveness, thank you. i just know i'm never going to live it down when they remember." she really thought running with the 'long lost daughter' bit would just be easier, and maybe it'd bite her in the ass but, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. her head falls back against the mirror for a moment, letting xaden's words echo in her mind as she thought them over. "maybe it would've been better if he had." she's not brave enough to say them aloud, but letting the phrase pass between them was better than letting it bottle up in her mind. "might solve all our problems." she's still staring up at the ceiling as he continues, letting out an exhausted sigh. "i'll talk to her. better it comes from me than anyone else, mira isn't exactly known for subtlety." she runs her free hand over her face, feeling for where the split in her lip was, where the bruising was starting to creep up past the initial impact spot. "he's going to hate me more, getting you roped into this fucking bond with me."

"well, forgive me for hoping your relationship with my dad doesn't progress the same way ours did." because if he makes any serious comment about this situation, it's only going to make them both feel worse. the entire thing with his father is absolutely going to get worse before it gets better, and he knows that all too well, considering how stubborn his father can be. "i don't care. if they think i'm crazy for running out of a meeting to make sure my girlfriend is safe after she got stabbed, then i pity their partners." he'd definitely fielded some questions about her outburst on the base a few months ago, but he'd made up some story and gotten everyone past it decently quickly. if this brought up new questions, he'd handle it when it happened. "as if i ever doubted that you're the most brilliant woman i've ever met." even while hating her, he'd had to acknowledge that she was brilliant and intelligent in every way. it was one of the things that had drawn him to her, one of the things he clung to now in his attempts at keeping himself together. she'd described him as her gravity once, and he couldn't help but agree, she was holding him together, keeping him tethered to himself in a way he wasn't sure anyone else would be capable of. "yeah, maybe in another life." he snorts, because there is no way he'd have ever ended up a healer with the circumstances he'd been given. honestly, he doubts he would have ended up one anyways, but who really cared? this was what he was, and nothing was going to change that now. "i know, it's not easy, it doesn't ever get easier. but we don't really have another choice right now, they're going to think we're insane, i'd probably still think you belonged in a psych ward if you couldn't talk in my mind." that had been the only thing that got him to even listen to the story, the rest had been convincing once he was willing to believe it, but without that, he likely wouldn't have been willing. "gods, that's... neither one is great, but i think tairn would appreciate you picking the lie you did whenever he remembers. sgaeyl probably will too, you know how they are." the dragons were both more than a little insane about their mates, but that was the nature of mating bonds, he guessed. "stabbing you in the shoulder and punching you is bad, but if he'd cut your throat he would have killed you. so yes, worse to hear about." not that he's thrilled about any of it, especially considering it had come from his father. but he'd be a lot less thrilled if fen had actually killed her or come much closer than he had. "and if, while you're avoiding her, mira makes some comment about how much she hates your boyfriend? suddenly your mom is the one stabbing me." she'd probably be even more mad with the combination of the fact that her enemies son that was sleeping with her daughter was also a venin. "yeah, yeah probably better to lead with that. makes the 'sleeping with the enemy' thing and the 'we'll meet malek together' thing a lot less offensive to him."

[babeyvenus]

My Future

Derek Hale x OC

Samantha, Stiles and Scott are always joking about the impossible. Who wouldn't when your best friend's dad is the sheriff of Beacon Hills? All jokes stop when they realize the impossible is indeed possible.

Chapter 51: Shadow Woman

After learning about Sam's history, Derek felt as if he understood her a bit better. He lightly dragged his thumb down her cheek as he frowned softly.

“I'm just glad you didn't die on us. I don't know what I would've done.”

He understood why she was the way she was.

“You're not alone, Derek.”

He understood why she and the boys were so close. Why she stayed with her mother. Why she acted the way she acted toward the others that they've come across.

“You haven’t given up trying to push me away, yet? It doesn’t get old?”

It made sense now.

“I'm not leaving you. I won't leave you.”

He was so curious about her and why she felt the need to be so persistent in helping him and Scott to begin with.

“I'm not gonna let you go out there if it means you're gonna die and I won't be able to do anything about it.”

It wasn't just because she cared… she was afraid. She was afraid of being alone.

“I don't wanna do that without you.”

He sighed softly, laying back against her pillows, and closed his eyes. With her brother and father missing, it messed her up. The abandonment dug a hole in her being and her friends only filled it so much.

This entire time… Derek was worried about himself. Thinking about himself and how he was the bane of everyone's pain but now he knew he wasn't just that. This wasn't his fault yet he felt like it was.

He wasn't here to protect her either.

Despite all that she's been through, she was still caring and not as cold as he expected her to be after hearing what happened.

In the beginning, he was just a stranger to her. The boys were right to have their suspicions and guards up around him, but she wasn't like them…

She could've been hostile toward him, but she wasn't. She was definitely crazy brave for standing up to him and Peter, regardless of their supernatural status. But she welcomed them all the same.

He frowned at another thought that plagued his mind. She could've been just like the Argents.

However, she was the opposite. She wasn't as threatening when she found out who bit Scott. Hell, she was on the Hales' side the entire time.

She could've hated him. He anticipated it. He wasn't supposed to care. He was supposed to gather betas for revenge. So was Peter. And he did.

But he lost his betas. His alpha spark and this girl, this once human girl, stayed by his side.

She made him think of Paige. Maybe… maybe this was his new chance. A chance to do better. To do right. To make sure he didn't relive a repeat.

He was… scared when Sam had gotten bit.

He hid it well, but he was terrified. Terrified that he'd let another innocent girl die because of his mistakes.

She could've lost her life and she didn't blame him for getting bit. She made it seem like it was a normal occurrence when she told her mother.

He thanked his lucky stars. That was, if he had any.

Even laying next to her, he felt lucky. The dim moonlight that peeked through her curtains, he saw how her usually plump cheeks were less swollen from crying so hard.

Her eyes were still a little puffy, but it didn't bother him much. She slept peacefully. At least he hoped.

This wasn't something he expected to come home to. Another family reunion? One that wasn't mysteriously his?

He wondered about her father and brother. Was the trip even worth it? Was it worth tearing her apart so emotionally?

Did they really miss her?

Derek lifted a hand to hover his fingertips over her cheek. He glanced at the small faded scar over her eyelid. He felt guilty that it hadn't healed completely before she got bit.

She'd probably tell him that it wasn't his fault. She was always like that. He kinda wished she'd just yell at him, tell him to get lost, to never see her or her friends again.

Maybe it'd hurt less if she had. He can't imagine why anyone would hurt her so bad even as a kid. She sounded so sweet and kind hearted from what Stiles had described.

It made him wish he'd met her earlier. Before the fire. Before Kate.

His thoughts paused as he heard a soft groan come from her and watched as she woke up. Her eyes slowly opened and met his, a relieved expression washed over her face.

"Hi.", she whispered softly. A small smile lifted his lips. "Hi.", he responded. "How're you feeling?"

She let out a muffled noise and rubbed her face on her pillow. "Still kinda tired, but I'm okay. You okay?"

He let out a snort. Worried about him as always… "Yeah. I'm okay."

He watched as she lifted a hand, the tips of her fingers pressed against his scruffy cheek. "You're really here…", she muttered.

He nodded. "I'm back."

She dropped her hand with a small huff and a smile. Derek returned her smile and brought her into his hold. "I missed you.", he muttered in her hair. She nuzzled into his chest. "I really missed you."

He laid a kiss on top of her forehead and looked down at her. "How come you were sick?", he asked softly.

She looked up at him, a questioning look on her face. "When I came home, I smelled you all over my couch. I smelled your pain. You were sick. Why?", he responded.

"I got drugged and kidnapped.", she muttered, looking down. Derek's face hardened. What the hell happened while he was gone?

"By who?", he asked. "A guy me, Stiles and Scott knew when we were younger.", she responded. She told him everything that happened from meeting Theo to him being dragged to hell by his dead sister.

Good riddance, Derek thought. The boy was power hungry and it didn't set Derek in a good way. Even going as far to get everyone to hate Stiles and getting Liam to kill Scott. It was too much.

He wanted to ask her so many other questions. How much had he missed out on since he left?

There was one thing that also bothered him. While he went to visit Cora, the sky suddenly changed one night. It tripped him out so much, he thought he hadn't even slept yet.

"Did a weird thing happen here? Like a sudden change in the sky?", he asked. Sam felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she shrunk under her covers. That was one detail she left out of her explanation.

So her powers did reach around the world…

She hadn't meant to do that. It was an accident.

Derek looked at her in confusion. "What? What happened?", he asked quietly.

She looked up at him. "I did it…" He raised a thick eyebrow in question. "Did what?", he asked. She grumbled in embarrassment. "I changed the sky. It wasn't my fault. I had this stupid hallucination. When Stiles snapped me out of it, the next thing I know, it's night outside."

She waited for him to laugh. To let out a teasing chuckle. To tell her she was being a big baby and that it was reckless of her to do that.

He did neither of those things, to her surprise. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her, his thumb rubbing at her back. "You wanna tell me what the hallucination was about?", he asked softly.

He didn't wanna pressure her, considering the last hallucination almost made her drown herself out of guilt. He couldn't imagine what this one was like.

She frowned softly and told him what she saw. In the end, Derek was jumbled with emotions. They were bouncing everywhere. He was worried, relieved, pissed and pleased all at the same time.

He was relieved she couldn't sense chemosignals.

"I don't know. I know that house meant a lot to you, but it brings me comfort too. I don't know why. I used to get relieved when I saw it. Now the loft holds that relief for me too.", she says. He looked down at her, but she didn't meet his eyes.

Her safe place was where he resided…

He wondered if the boys had figured that out already. Maybe Peter did. It was no wonder why they smelled her all over the couch.

It was a faint smell, but potent nonetheless. If her comfort wasn't something she could explain, he wouldn't question it anymore.

She sighed and sat up. "What's wrong?", he asked.

She looked at him. "We gotta figure out who's been kidnapping people for youth.", she said.

He sat up on his elbows. "You actually wanna help them?", he asks, referring to the two that came with the info.

She frowned. "I'm not helping them. I'm helping the people who are in danger.", she corrected. "Even if it meant you had to work with them?", he asked.

She paused. Would she have to work with them? It'd be awkward and annoying. If she could avoid it, it'd be great.

She sighed through her nose. "If it can't be helped…"

She lifted herself out of the bed, floating softly on the carpet floor as she stretched. Derek watched in surprise, fully sitting up now. He really missed out on a lot.

"You can fly now?", he muttered. She turned to him. "What, jealous?", she asked, teasingly.

He scoffed with a smile as she went to freshen up. When she disappeared in her bathroom, he turned on a lamp and laid back down on her bed, looking around her room.

It seemed bigger than the last time he came. There were things that he hadn't noticed. He knew about her little bookshelf that she had acquired before he left. Her desk was neater and she ended up getting a new alarm clock.

She had a slightly bigger TV sat on an entertainment center that stood next to her bedroom door.

Looks like that spot's taken if he ever were to come back by himself. But he didn't think he'd need to sneak in the house anymore now. But, it was a force of habit.

The entertainment center was neatly occupied by DVD cases, PlayStation controllers, the console and games.

Why hadn't he noticed all of this before…?

Maybe because they were constantly running around trying to stay alive from any possible threat that harmed their lives…

Had he been doing a good job teaching her to stay alive…?

He'd like to think so, considering she was still alive.

"Your thoughts are loud.", he hears and looks over at Sam who emerged from the bathroom dressed more comfortably.

He lets out a chuckle. She smiled and walked over to him.

"What else have you learned about your new powers?", Derek asked. She hummed and used her shadow to make her float and sat on top of the black blob that floated below her.

"Well, now that I know I can change the day to night, I have to work on that before I unintentionally do that again and cause a worldwide situation.", she said.

She frowned in thought. There was a new thing she tried, but it was worth a shot. She reached for his head and plucked a strand, making him reel back, and place a hand on his head in reaction. "The hell was that for?", he fussed, scratching at his slightly sore scalp.

She floated to her carpet floor, creating a glowing resin that she had done before and placed the strand of dark hair in the middle.

It was a harmless thing, of course. She knew that, but it was still shocking to him.

He watched as the small, illuminated crescent moon appeared on her forehead and looked at his hand that seemed to glow as well.

He lifted his hand and saw a similar illuminated moon on the corner of his wrist, inspecting it as it faded.

He looked at Sam as she looked at him with a sheepish smile. "I kinda made a link to you. It'll let me know if something's wrong with you.", she explained. He understood now.

It was creative. Smart.

He smiled. "Thanks for that.", he said. Her eyes nearly sparkled at his smile. It always brought butterflies in her stomach, but brought her relief that he was still able to even after everything that happened.

She smiled.

The next day, the pack met up at Scott's house, discussing what they should do about the kidnapped.

"Where should we even look first?", Lydia asked.

"They said there were people running away from Beacon Hills, but they weren't far. So that just means that whoever's doing the kidnapping is still here.", Stiles said.

Scott turned to Sam. "Why don't we ask your grandma?", he asked. Sam looked at him in confusion. "Why my grandma?"

They looked at her, confused as well. "You… don't know?", Liam asked. She looked at him then looked at her packmates. "Know what?"

Stiles frowned. "Your mom told us your grandma pretty much knows every single supernatural thing in Beacon Hills. Including the Argents."

Sam frowned deeply, and glanced at Derek who looked at her with an expression that gave the confirmation.

The truth dropped into her stomach with a nauseating wave. Her eyes weakly blinked. "I feel sick.", she muttered.

"It's not your fault.", Derek quickly reassured.

Sam rubbed at her temples as she sat down. She knew her mom went to her grandma for help as far as protection spells, but…

It made sense that she knew about the supernatural things in Beacon Hills, but…

Why hadn't she gone to her for help before?

Sam let out a sigh, dragging a hand down her face. "Fine. We'll go to her to see what she knows."

They couldn't go to the store since it was closed on certain days so Sam drove the girls and led the boys to her grandma's house.

She stared at the house with a frown. It brought back memories that bothered her a bit. Shaking it off, she got out of her car and walked up to the porch, knocking on the door.

The pack stood behind her and waited.

Three more knocks and they could hear the old rickety door opening. To the pack's surprise, they saw an older woman that was shorter than Sam despite having some of her features.

She didn't have grey hair, rather dark hair with white streaks. Her eyes seemed approachable whilst she wore a smile that could warm anyone's heart.

It definitely warmed Sam's. She smiled and gave her grandma a hug. "Hi, granny.", she softly greeted.

The older woman greeted her back with a hug and scolded the girl. "You should've told me you were bringing company. Y'all come on in."

The pack looked at Sam for confirmation and the girl only smiled, nodding her head towards the door as she walked through.

As she looked around, she felt a sense of familiarity. She hadn't exactly been to the house in years. Seeing her at the shop was enough and she wasn't always exactly invited. Especially not recently with everything going on.

Sam was trying to avoid giving her grandmother any type of hints that she was now involved with supernatural mysteries and fights.

Now, she had no choice but to tell her. "So, why the visit?", she hears her grandma ask.

Sam turns to her, "We came here to see what you knew about the recent supernatural issues that's been happening. Something about someone kidnapping people to make themselves younger."

The older woman's face turned into a frown as she looked at her granddaughter's friends. Taking one good look at them, she pointed at each. "Werewolves," She said pointing at Liam, Scott and Derek. She pointed at Malia. "Coyote."

She looked at Kira and huffed. "Kitsune." She pointed at Lydia, "Banshee." She looked at Stiles. "You were possessed…"

Stiles looked down, scratching behind his neck. Anita turned to her granddaughter. "How long have you known?"

"About the supernatural or the recent issue?", Sam asked.

"Both, while we're at it.", Anita responded, crossing her arms. Sam sighed and glanced at her pack before looking back at her grandma.

"For a while now.", Sam responded. It wasn't completely a lie, and it was an avoidance. Anita sighed, rubbing her temple.

"I know a lot of what's here in Beacon Hills. I know what's what and weaknesses and strengths. But what you're looking for will be hard to find.", Anita determined.

Sam frowned as her grandmother walked into a hall that was lined up with bookshelves. She pulled a book out of the bookshelf in front of her.

She opened it, and walked back to Sam. "The thing you're looking for is normally called a shadow person.”, she says, handing the book over to Sam. “They drain people of their energies and life force in their sleep. But if what you're looking for is a woman, then that would be a shadow woman, of course.”

Sam looked at the description in the book then paused as she looked up at her grandma. "How'd you know it was a woman?"

Anita scoffed, "The shadow man doesn't drain people to make himself younger. More powerful, maybe, but definitely not younger. A shadow woman may be trying to make herself more physical, hence draining people out of their youth to make her look young."

Sam closed the book. "If it's just a woman, that'll be easy.", she determined, walking past her.

Anita stopped her. "Hold your horses. Why are you so confident?"

Sam turned to her, an eyebrow raised. "You don't know?", Scott asked.

Anita looked confused. What had her granddaughter not told her?

"I thought you knew every supernatural thing that happens in Beacon Hills?", Malia asked. Anita frowned. "I know of every supernatural thing in Beacon Hills. Not what happens in Beacon Hills.", she corrected and turned to her granddaughter.

"Mom's leaving you out of the loop, too, huh?", Sam said and sighed. "I can control shadows and apparently the night as well.", she confessed.

Anita was more than surprised, she was intrigued and almost seemed expectant.

"Your mom had you do some studying too, hm?", Anita asked. Sam frowned a bit, but agreed nonetheless.

If she didn't know about everything that's happened, she doesn't need to now. Sam felt no need to explain more.

"Who's been protecting you?", Anita asked. "Who's your entities?"

"Nyx and Hecate. Sometimes Eris.", Sam confessed, shocking Anita a bit.

Sam sighed. "I've done all my research and if that's all then thanks for the book, granny. I'll see you later.", she said, smiling and pushing her friends out of the door.

Anita followed and watched from the porch as the pack piled into their cars and pulled out from her driveway.

She has the power to manipulate shadows to her will and has the power of the moon…

Anita smirked.

[dreamiesdotcom]

butterfly effect│nct dream

Summary: You think of it as something caused by the butterfly effect — the great loves you had to leave, and the one that made you stay.

Pairing/s: 7dream x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Moon's note: since it's my birthday and I promised... it's not the best but I'd like to thank you guys for staying with me and wishing me a happy birthday! I hope you all have an awesome 2021!

You weren't really thinking straight when you met him — instead, your mind was a mess of one thought and sidelines; the little things. Butterfly effect. The knowledge that ten minutes from now the train will board — you'll miss your ride to school, you'll miss school — so you run faster, faster, and there it goes. The butterfly effect — knowing that what little thing you did could've changed someone's life entirely.

If you have made it ten minutes earlier, maybe you'd be sitting in the spot where a child buzzes with excitement, knowing that she'll see her father sometime soon, and in exchange, she will be in another place — maybe she won't meet the girl sitting across who offers her one of her candies. Maybe she won't be riding the train at all — maybe she would have to wait six months again before she can go see her dad.

You sulkily take the path to one of the exits, thinking about catching the bus or something. The skies are dark and you're aware of its plan, also aware that you left your umbrella. Frustrated and too annoyed to even think about school, you crash to the empty bench, bags left to drop to the floor. Tough luck. 

The boy chuckles, "Missed the train too?"

"Yeah," you grumble, not even bothering that he's a total stranger. "Was caught in a daydream and got lost on the way. You?"

"Eh, my idiot of a best friend made me wait," he shrugs. He brings his book down and offers you a handshake, "I'm Huang Renjun — I see we study at the same place. May I know your name?"

You don't speak after a minute or two, but you shake his hand, to which he laughs at. You think it was you being overwhelmed. Maybe your soul just knew how much impact he was meant to throw at your life.

Huang Renjun doesn't become a one-time encounter, but instead, he becomes someone you take train rides with; be it you're late or not, to school or to the library. He stays constant occurrence, so much that Huang Renjun turns into Renjun, then Renjunnie — until you're free to call each other names like 'dumbass' and 'stupid' and everything crumbles down; formalities, facades, walls. You don't feel it then, but if you were to look back, you think it's that one dark-skied Monday with you two terribly late and finding yourselves back in the same bench, when everything the world laid down for you has shifted.

Renjun pout his lips, bored. He tears his bag from himself and lets it stay under the shed, but he stretches his hands out to the sky where his eyes are set, watching water fall in tiny drizzles before a full-blown rain, "Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?"

"When we should be at school?" you huff, more amused than questioning but it comes out as a scolding. He only nods his head, and you furrow your brows, "Renjun, you're crazy."

He doesn't reply, only answers with a deadpan gaze that asks Are you going or not? and it makes you tighten your expression further. 

"Hold me."

The boy grins in triumph — he cheekily smiles, immediately pulling you under the rain and laughs like a tiny kid. It's contagious, you figure out, his laughter; if not for his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours, you would've fallen over laughing with him. It was less of a dance and more of a cuddle, swaying to the sound of the rain and his sweet hums. Renjun whispers to you the melody of a love song, and you couldn't help but ponder.

"I always wanted to do this, you know?" you feel silly even confessing, "To dance under the rain with someone, look into each other's eyes, exist as if the world doesn't and maybe give them a kiss. I wonder how that'd feel."

Renjun's serenity read ideas — those that never failed to get you two in trouble. He tilts his head, "Kiss me, then."

You feel like the world stops, and your heartbeat slows, as if the raindrops are little speckles of star-like lights littering the surroundings. Your eyes widen at his suggestion, shock ripping through your body, a confused sound escaping your throat, "What?"

"I guess you don't always need to have feelings for the person you're kissing," Renjun purses his lips. Of all people, you laugh in your head, those words you expected to come out of this one's mouth the least. He huffs, "And I don't have feelings for you."

There's just enough hesitation — uncertainty, unpredictability, skepticism — in his eyes that you find he can't be trusted as much as he normally would be. Renjun drops a half-smile, eyes unreadable, "But I sure do know I want to kiss you. A lot. Right now." 

Renjun smiles in victory the second time that day.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You come across Donghyuck in the most inconvenient way possible; a few months after you started dating Renjun and there's a little too many mishaps with making schedules meet. He strides to your chair one sunny Friday, clothes too colorful for the shades of beige decorating the place. Donghyuck didn't know how to approach you; he just kind of winged it by showing you Renjun's texts that he asked him to pick you up because something came up and he can't make it anymore. You didn't really like that — the fact that he didn't even speak, the fact that Renjun stood you up. You thought Donghyuck was arrogant. The car ride home was silent.

He was far from that, you learn the one too many times the same scenario occurred. Renjun was too busy to even show up, more often in the library than in his own place. Donghyuck, being his best friend, never failed to be there for you, keep your relationship intact, make excuses for the other. He'll pick you up from where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend, grab food and spend the whole day playing video games that only he understands, and then half of the time he'll compliment you with little playful remarks. That day was supposed to be nothing so different from the others — it's just that it didn't take much longer for Donghyuck to fall.

How could he not? You smiled so lovingly and spoke so gently, always so understanding and patient and kind. How can he not, when he's already known what song makes your day the most? When he saw how ethereal you looked under the moonlight, as he danced with you by the shore? Sure, maybe most of these moments wouldn't have been if it wasn't for Renjun's absence, and truly most of the things he loves about you aren't for him; he fell in love anyway. Still, that day was supposed to be nothing so different from any others — you're stuck in the odd place quite between grateful and guilty.

"Something came up, he won't be here." The boy says firmly through gritted teeth, hands-on your wrist trying to make you get up, "Please. He doesn't have his phone. He's not coming anymore, let's go home."

"Let me wait for him, please," you say, eyes teary, "Please, Donghyuck."

"No." He simply mutters, and whether it was the sinking feeling of defeat or the determination in his voice, it doesn't matter. You let yourself get tugged away from that place, feeling weak and oddly empty. The car ride home was silent. 

"Thanks a lot, you know?" You shyly say later, once Donghyuck's lost enough in video games and he's run out of knock-knock jokes and witty statements. He couldn't stand the sight of you with your head hung low and eyes teary, "You're always there for me when Renjun is not and... just thank you."

"You're welcome," he sincerely replies. You try to look for it, the lilt in his voice or the smirk stretching his lips, but all you see is worry, and it concerns you. The bad butterflies in your stomach, the bad thoughts in your head; you feel like right now, with you so vulnerable, there should be someone by your side — someone that is totally not Donghyuck. He clears his throat, "You know he didn't mean to, right? He wants time with you too, a lot, you know?"

"I know what I have, Hyuck," you reply, a chuckle at the end of your tone. You lean your back to the couch, head tilted up and voice hoarse, "and I'm fucking scared I'll take him for granted."

Donghyuck's heartbeat slows down, but you don't need to know that. If you're thinking of a similar situation, a place in time back then as cruel winters and as harsh as summer sunlight in the afternoon, you figure he doesn't need to know that, too.

You let out a huff and a smile, "I don't want to know how painful it is to lose Huang Renjun."

Donghyuck thinks he knows why you said it; things normally go down the drain when you start realizing why someone fell for a certain person — at least, he thinks. If his experience is a reliable source, this is the point where you start falling for that person too. When you see how gentle they are, how caring, how understanding. Maybe Donghyuck is lonely — maybe he just wants to be someone who holds another person, singing them lullabies until they fall asleep, much like Renjun does for you. Maybe you're really just lovely — maybe there's an undiscovered force in the universe that places you in the center of his everything. He makes note of the rejection in your confession, and he accepts it, gracefully.

This is the point where he suppresses all the what-ifs in his head — what if you gave me a chance? What if I met you first? What if I didn't skip class that day, and I was with Renjun, and I met you at the same time as him? Do you think you would've ended up with me? — but these thoughts, despite being concealed, they leave a constant reminder that they're still there. It's a truth you both already know, the words that drip like honey from his lips, "I could love you better, so much better."

It'd be a lie to say you didn't think of it, considering his feelings. It would be an even bigger lie if you said that you don't think anyone can love you better than Renjun — you know someone can, and with how you two are handling this, it wouldn't be so hard to. Donghyuck is just so easy to fall for — the way he always knows the right thing to say, the compliments he throws at people, how confident he is, how clingy he gets. You would lie if you're asked, but you can't deny having feelings for Donghyuck, you can't deny how many times you've fallen in a reverie thinking of how good it must feel to be adored by him. Maybe you were lonely, maybe Donghyuck was just like that. Either way, no matter how great this love could be, you know it's wrong. 

"I know you could. I couldn't be any happier when I'm with you. Those instants, they're one of the most beautiful moments in my life, but —" you halt, eyes still staring up at the ceiling. The twist in your gut tightens as you proceed, "But in those moments, I was secretly hoping for things. I was hoping that he was the one doing all of that for me. I was hoping that the happiness I had with you, he was giving me instead."

Donghyuck remains silent for a while. He smiles wistfully, "I know."

It's a rather odd answer, but you figure it shouldn't shock you as much anymore. You sit up straight, confused. Donghyuck motions for you to stand as he does the same. Stars shine in his eyes still, but it's a different light — there's hope in them, but it's a difficult kind of hope. He's beautiful even under dull lighting, it's something hard to pronounce; unrestrained and raw, as if one look at him and you'll crumble.

"Please, for just a while, even just a little bit," He steps closer, eyes downcast, "hold me like you love me."

You figure you were right about thinking that there was always something wrongfully more with Donghyuck — also discover that no matter how much more this feeling is, whatever it is, it can never be love; at least not a healthy one. What love could possibly ruin relationships? Donghyuck and Renjun are practically soulmates — they were made to be best friends, and while they had their other friends, nobody is just like Renjun and nobody is like Donghyuck. You don't want them to fall apart; you of all people know how hard it is to lose someone special. 

Donghyuck's hug felt like fire, uninhibited and uncontrolled, given to someone so undeserving. You hold him like you love him the same way.

"I don't need you to love me back," but maybe he was hoping a bit. Yeah. Maybe. "There was never a chance for us, you know? Against my own best friend, I know I won't stand a chance. I just wanted to hear it from you."

A pause.

"Because I can dance with you under the moon, and I can walk on streets holding your hands, I can give you all the time in the world — I could spend a lifetime telling everyone I'm yours," Donghyuck locks gazes with you, and you wonder how he manages to be both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. He shakes his head a bit, "But that won't make you love me."

"Because I can only ever catch you," he says wistfully "whenever he fails to. I always do, don't I? Catch you, save you, love you. But you're not falling for me. You're not in need of my saving. You're not mine to adore."

He loosens his hug, looks at you like the sun bidding farewell to the moon. He's just as beautiful, if not more, he really is — gold dusting his eyelids and strawberry balm on his lips — he's ethereal. Donghyuck is beautiful in all ways manageable and not, but it's also a different kind of beauty — quite like love, adventurous but uncertain, poetic but tragic. There's a lot of pain in this beauty. He closes his eyes.

"There's not much of us, but I'm setting you free."

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You find yourself knocking at Renjun's door that night, for no particular reason — certain events made you forget that he stood you up. Renjun apologizes and repeats his reasons like a mantra, but words seemed to leave his mouth once he sees your eyes; tired and sore. You don't really need his apologies. You just need him.

Apologies, you see, they almost always never come when they're asked for. When they do, they're mostly unwanted and unnecessary from that point forward. You just feel odd, more restless than you actually are, the world is too loud — you just want to close your eyes and escape for a bit. Renjun holds you silently the whole night, his heartbeat calm, his arms holding you tight and secure.

Renjun knows, but he decides it's better for him not to. He shifts a bit, "If not because of me, why are you sad?"

A part of you knows that this is his way of telling you he understands, that he's aware of what somethings happened behind his back. Renjun always knows. The bigger part of you hoped he didn't — selfishly. You know it's the safest choice to keep your mouth shut. 

You're sad, for a million reasons or for just one, you don't bother keeping up with the numbers. Renjun looks at you like you're a treasure, though, like he means it — you think the only favor you could do him and for yourself as well is to lie. You grin, effectively hiding away the tears threatening to brim your eyes, "I forgot."

He doesn't really know what answer he expected, but his heart sinks at the reply nonetheless. Renjun decides, tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly in a way Renjun wishes it wasn't. He wakes up tired — he was up all night singing lullabies to himself, whispering confessions that wouldn't change a thing and promises he'll never be able to fulfill, stuff that would never make you stay. Renjun didn't cry all night — there was a tear or two, there was three — he didn't just cry all night. He did so much more — relive the past, think that he's sorry, accept defeat and the fact that he's never gonna be enough for you; then he closes his eyes. The rain pours heavily outside and Renjun reaches a hand out to the sky.

"Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?" he says with tired eyes. "One time once more, baby."

You ignore the telltale signs of a heartache — maybe you were too numb, maybe you wanted to pretend it's all normal. Renjun tugs you outside and pulls you into a hug so tight, as if he didn't want to let go but he's losing you. Is he? 

Dancing with Renjun under the rain is oddly similar to the one you shared with Donghyuck under the moonlight, and you find yourself full of guilt as you sway together with him, humming love songs just right next to your ear. 

Renjun knows of that dance, of course he does. He was in front of the place you two were supposed to meet at, hoping that he could still make it. Because of this, he doesn't ask why you're entwining fingers with his while recalling memories of another. He doesn't mind — he thinks, as long as your eyes look at him so softly like that, he doesn't mind anything.

You think Renjun is beautiful like this — his everything an aesthetic you can endlessly write about. His eyes, though, his eyes look distant, wishful and longing. Renjun looks at you like he's letting you go and your heart drops, as gentle and as sweet as the poems he's written of you and the kiss he gifts your lips with.

"Just leave, darling," he whispers, "Stay a lovely memory to me."

It's just like any lovely excerpts you wrote, the last line with Renjun quite familiar and bittersweet. As if in any other circumstances, had he said only the second sentence and the second sentence only, it would have made your heart skip and your cheeks rise in temperature.

Real love is a little not like literature, though, at least the one you had with Renjun isn't. It wasn't almost being the same person. It wasn't sweet chaos. For both of you, it was doing what was the best for each other at the moment — whether it will make you cry, whether it will be painful before it becomes easy, knowing that it won't always be picture perfect but still wanting to give each other what you deserve. It was so much simpler than how he said it in his poetry, just as complicated but not any less romantic than that. Huang Renjun knew that you were aware of what was the best for the both of you — with neither of you ever wanting to force something to work and end up hating each other the more it fails, successfully trading the happy memories with more regrets, you walk away. Renjun doesn't follow just because love isn't always like the idea of it, but he does remember to never forget. You walk away, holding his love dear to your heart.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

Some people are just not meant to be alone, you think. Mark Lee comes just as quickly as Renjun was gone.

You don't even know why your paths crossed — Mark is literally the town's golden boy. He plays sports and aces exams and has a good set of friends; surely, he has more important matters to deal with, and definitely getting coffee at a dingy coffee shop isn't one of them. Not when it's three a.m in the morning, at least.

The shy barista at the counter sends you a gleeful smile as he hands out your order, one which you return with a curt nod and a quiet wish goodnight. He watches intently, subtle but focused — he really isn't one to gawk at people, but he couldn't help it. You held with you a smile that doesn't match the exhaustion in your eyes. You looked like hope. You looked like someone to look up and search for the stars even on a cloudy day. You seemed like a full-bloomed spring to trapped minds and sour hearts. You think Mark is a little too curious like Alice. Mark thinks you're even better than the Wonderland he'd always fall for.

He knows you saw him, he feels the hesitation in your stare. He knows you know him, he's shared a couple of classes with you and has done a couple of assignments as a team, so naturally, Mark couldn't help himself but ask, "Wanna sit down with me?"

You walk up to him with a nod, grateful. Mark tries to remain calm for the rest of the night — caffeine not helping — and he tries to look at his book instead of you, but he simply fails to. He tries his best to conceal himself, but he can't seem to tear away. He can't look at anywhere else when you're sitting there right in front of him — you know pain, you're familiar with sadness, have always been friends with enduring what you couldn't take; Mark sees in you a landscape that makes his heart hurt, a leafless tree he loves by itself but couldn't resist the urge to nurse back into life. Every now and then you'd look up from your cup and he would look away from this book that he's "reading" and your eyes would meet, and the both of you would shyly giggle and open up a small talk.

He walks you home that night, this one and the other and the many next times after that; it's just your thing by now, getting coffee at the most unreasonable hours of the day and staying up until it's too late for either of you to sleep because by this hour you should be blinking awake, walking down lifeless streets and past neon signs and holding hands. Mark would look at you with such awe and when he does, you have some things you forget, and your heart races. He's became a regular part of your day, a constant stranger. And then he becomes your friend. Then kind of more. You think, maybe, just maybe, he can become something more than more.

"I have many regrets in this life, you know? But I don't wanna be imprisoned by them," you shrug, too scared to look up at him and see that he wonders just what failures you've done. You continue your slow pace, both in walking and letting go of things much like words, "I don't want you to be one of them."

Mark stops walking, but he doesn't make you feel like you've said something wrong, so you finally glace up and meets his eyes; those that hold as much tiredness as yours, pressure, those that are glassy and brimming with tears. You smile, "And I like you, a lot, even if I'm in broken pieces. "

Mark looks at you and doesn't see majestic brokenness. Mark falls deeper in love that day, the next and all the others; you were deep like that. He fell and couldn't stop falling and he can't wait to fall even deeper into you, diving into unknown waters with blind fates and silent confessions of love. 

Your relationship was practical — literal and convenient, full of compromise but in a good way. You both were almost always on the same page of what should be done and how to do it, and if not, you two know that it's the best to give it a rest and understand. The balance, that kind of synchrony — it was something you both need, was something you liked about your dynamic; the fact that the partnership was there and you're certain of no taking more than you could give and no giving of less than you deserve. For once, you feel like you aren't pouring liquid into a leaking jar, and you feel content at the warmth he gives you with.

Renjun never made you feel this way; he didn't make enough accommodations for your relationship and you didn't voice out your expectations of him, you just wished he magically knew. Because he always knew that you would understand and other people wouldn't, he ended up giving you most of the weight of the relationship you both should've carried together. Mark was everything you hoped Renjun was; this is where the conflict begins.

When love is fueled by what the past wasn't able to give and what the present is willing to offer, you end up falling for the ideas and not the person. He makes up to what Renjun didn't, he filled to the brim what Renjun wasn't able to, he satiates what Renjun couldn't satisfy. You always saw the things Mark did as what you expected from someone else, so you weren't able to appreciate them as they are. You never truly saw him as Mark Lee who loves you, always as the boy who did everything the last didn't. 

Just as any relationship that revolves around somebody who's not involved, the conclusion was something you saw coming. It comes with tired eyes and worn out sighs, burned out hearts and linked fingers, sour hearts turning bitter. Mark doesn't look at you at all, and you keep your eyes set to the stars.

"The thing with me is I always long for consistency — for someone to understand me and stay understanding of me forever." He breathes out, voice raw. Did he scream? Was he screaming in those empty spaces you two gave each other? In any of those yells, did he call your name? You think you need to yell at the top of your lungs just to hear a sound louder than your heartbreak. He chuckles before continuing, "And I know that it doesn't exist and it never will. I knew that since childhood, but even if I continue disappointing myself, I never stopped hoping."

His shoulders drop — he feels that weak that time, even his knees buckle down and his eyes sting from holding back tears. "So baby, don't play with me," he whispers, more begging than warning and he falls apart, "I don't need a chase — I need someone to wait for the end with."

There's a whine at the back of your throat, but you settle with looking at his direction with an apologetic call of his name. He doesn't reply.

Mark never knew that he could fall in love with the same person all over again even during a break-up. You're just lovely like that — always dancing in your daydreams while you carry the world on your back. Mark feels his breath catch at his throat, he feels his palms go numb, he feels his heart going haywire and begging him so desperately because no, no, don't let go, please, don't let go! 

"There's a huge difference between how much I love you, and how much I can take." He finally spares you a glance, his everything so spent and lonely and blue in a way that isn't the calm of an ocean. "If you can't love me, then please let me go."

Mark knew your answer when you smiled.

────── ❁ ──────

The trip to the coffee shop was slow and empty and chilly, your hands trembling in need to get a hold of warm coffee and your feet taking little steps to such a familiar place. Honestly, you don't even know why you're letting yourself go there — why do you keep on doing this, torturing yourself? You don't even know — maybe you came here to reminisce the past, hold it close one last time before letting it go. Maybe you're here to remember how Mark was, how he was before he met you — oh, how you wish he didn't meet you. How badly you wish he never did, how you wish he never offered you a seat, his comfort, his love, a place in his heart. How you wish you didn't steal the sparkles in his eyes, and at that very moment, you feel the sudden urge to turn around. 

But you're already pushing the glass door wide open, causing the chimes to make that delightful sound.

"Good...!" the cheery voice fades, a concerned look adorning exhausted eyes, "...evening. The usual?"

You hum, nodding soullessly. The boy — Jeno, quietly works your order until he decides he's had enough of you rubbing your cheeks raw wiping down tears. He sighs and finishes your drink, hands it to you with a sympathizing smile, "Uh, you don't look fine, but are you okay?"

You suppress a giggle and a glare — why does he care? But you're lonely, too lonely, so lonely that you only manage a nod, "Rough time. I wish today didn't happen."

"Oh, but other people had the best day of their lives today. They wouldn't experience that day if today didn't happen," he smiles, flashes of child-like optimism and hopes hinting behind the sleepy glaze in his eyes. "You're on your way to yours."

And while on any other day, his reply would have made you annoyed, you find that he's right, and wish that he indeed is. You feel like it's the only right that didn't go wrong today.

Something warns you that you shouldn't be getting yourself caught in his strings and his ways, but you find yourself straying around his orbit. You were lonely. It was that bad — so bad that you found comfort in everything and everyone and Lee Jeno just happened to be convenient; It's just safe to be around each other, and that's what great friends are supposed to be, right? Jeno doesn't judge and he doesn't pry when you tell him not to push it, and he tries to understand without forcing you to make him if you're not ready. Lee Jeno had a soul like comfort and a smile like a piece of home. You insist that you had no interest in either, but with you so down and him the only thing pulling you up, you couldn't help but let him in.

You think some people are just like that — timeless souls stuck in mortal bodies, liquid gold; glowing and burning and bright and hopeful, stars. They're like stars — human stars.

He's always beside you, you see, Lee Jeno. He answers the dumbest questions and the deeper ones, he stays up listening to your heartaches and struggles. He knows a lot about you — never everything, but they're more than enough — and you know about him, too. It's a dangerous edge you two are leaning far too close to tipping over, and still, your gaze screams life and hope and energy, Jeno thinks he doesn't mind. He remembers earlier memories with him crumbling under your fingertips, tears in his eyes.

"Mark Lee... he's not replaceable and I'm not a replacement..." he shifts his eyes down, can't bring it to him to just look at you without breaking himself. He manages a heartwrenching smile, "but I think I'd rather be a replacement rather than a distraction, darling."

But you looked at him and cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead so mellowly, assuring him that he's neither. The storm in his heart stops and all his insecurities don't matter, and Jeno doesn't think he ever felt this good — so light, so dreamy. Your touch brings comfort, much like lullabies, and after years on insufferable insomnia, Jeno falls asleep.

Your gaze, too. If you continue looking at him that way, he doesn't think he'll mind anything.

"Thanks, Jen. For the coffee," you say with a smile, another night spent with him at the coffee shop. These days, you spend most of your free time waiting for his shift to end, watching him stutter and flush every time he realizes you've been watching him. There's a giddy feeling spreading inside your gut as you continue, "and for staying with me. That was so thoughtful of you — how much lovelier can you be?"

He laughs, shaking his head. He sighs, "Stop it. You're giving me hope."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh, but I want to," you quickly roll your eyes, an attempt to faux cool control, your expression immediately shifting to something welcoming and soft just enough that his chest tightens. Jeno feels kind of odd — a good kind of odd, a welcomed sensation. You beam up at him with glassy eyes. Jeno shifts his to his shoelaces.

"Don't do that."

"Jen..."

"I love you," he confesses, shallow breaths coming in quick intervals. The floor seems to sway under his feet and the skies feel like they're swirls of dripping liquid, and it's hard to even breathe, let alone swallow the bitterness of his words, "But I would rather have you not say it back than hear you not mean it."

"I'm... I— Jen," you gasp out, fast to hold his hands to try to keep him down. For a reason or two, you feel like crying. Jeno feels lost. "I'm falling."

But you're not, and you don't know why you said it, but there's a galaxy in his eyes and the universe so beautifully laid down in his mind and he's pulling you close, tears in his eyes, this boy. Lee Jeno who's so in love with you, Lee Jeno who's hopelessly whipped, Lee Jeno — your sweet, sweet boy. You look up to him and shakily whispers, "Please catch me."

Jeno looks at the luminaries and wonders what it would feel like if one day he looks into the very same orbs only to find that the stars have fallen.

The wind blows gently, the coldness of the place prickling his skin, but Jeno doesn't think it's what caused the flush to rise on his cheeks. He stutters, curses a little, says again those little words and dives for a kiss — you feel like it's the best night ever; no nightmare, just pure bliss. 

You blindly walk the path inside your house, dropping your belongings on either of your sides. You try to keep your knees from buckling as you bring yourself to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes. You lean your back to the cold tile walls of your shower, feeling the rush of water that is supposed to drown your thoughts not doing anything to keep them at bay. What have I done?

Loving Jeno is easy, though, far too easy if you may. He's so full of love and in need of affection but never asks for them, and you're more than glad to give all of that to him without words needed. The days with him have been light-hearted, felt deeply nonetheless. In this little world, it's you and him, him and you, no one else. Right? Is that right? Do you promise?

Jeno knocks at your home one day, sullen and lethargic. He spreads his arms out for a hug, one you throw yourself into without hesitation. He leans into the touch, leaning down to burry his head on the crook of your neck, "Thank you, baby."

Your brows draw closer, "For what?"

"You were never mine, but you were always lonely." He suddenly says, He suddenly says, voice fading weak and unstable. There's warm tears dampening your shoulder, and he shakes ever so slightly that you panic and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he continues, "In my twisted logic, I made myself believe that it's the same."

"What are you saying, Jen?" You laugh, a bit confused and a lot afraid. "I love you."

"No, please, don't say that," his reply baffles you. When he lets you go, Jeno has a certain saddened look in his eyes, and it feels so familiar that you should be numb to it by now. You're not, though, and so you pretend to not know where this all would lead. He pulls you in again and hugs you tighter, "Let me tell you that I love you without you answering back, please."

The boy breathes out shakily, "I want us to have at least one memory that isn't a lie."

And then Lee Jeno says goodbye.

────── ❁ ──────

Park Jisung is the clumsy florist who keeps breaking vases in the flower shop his cousin owns, just several blocks away from the kindergarten both your nephews attended. You meet him one too many times you had to pick the little boy up, and talked to him finally one fine Tuesday when you decided flowers would be nice, out of random. You become friends from then on. 

This thing you have with Jisung is something lovely, child-like, and carefree. It doesn't put any pressure on you — there are expectations, but they're all voiced out and kept healthy. You're friends — great friends, not best friends — whose dynamic is not necessarily convenient. It's safe to say that some people think you have a complicated relationship.

You think, not really. Not to the two of you, at least — Jisung just knows when you're down and in need to be left alone or cuddled, while you know when he needs to cry or if he's pushing himself to his limits. He knows what flower you hold most dear, your treasured scent, your favorite shade of yellow. You know his most loved tracks, the beat he looks the happiest humming to, the color of his dreams. It's much more simple than that — it's just that you two have fun, even with your differences, and when you're together, everything else just fades away.

You just... don't like being alone. Jisung doesn't like not having company — well, there are indeed people he doesn't want to be accompanied by, but he doesn't like being the only one walking alone in crowds of many. He doesn't make your heart skip, not really, instead it's just a warm feeling in your chest, much like home. He doesn't make you nervous — not at all, but he does make you feel safe. Comforted, even. It's the type of love you've always yearned for, the only kind of love he's comfortable with.

"You dance?" Your eyes widen in surprise, dropping your book on the table. Then you smile, "Oh? Aren't you full of surprises?" 

"Mhm, you'll see." He says with embarrassment hinting his voice, but then he stops arranging the flowers and looks at where you're sitting. "You? Aren't you full of surprises, too?"

You pick up your book, a sudden low, shrugging. "It won't be a surprise if I say now, wouldn't it?"

He just shakes his head, tries to lift the vase to the other side and accidentally knocks another one down. You laugh at him, curious at how much control he has over his body that he must be able to dance so fluidly, hit the beat like it's what he's born for, and yet he can't seem to hold a vase and not break it. Jisung giggles, taking it lightly. You wish he didn't. 

The days with Jisung are filled with your favorite bouquets and post-it notes. Each and every day, the words written inside changes from 'You did well', until it develops to 'I hope you smiled today,' 'I wish something good happened today,' and 'You're really, really pretty.' He'd take you to little uphills, asks you to teach him how to make floral crowns from wildflowers, dance with you barefoot under bright daylight. A little summer, a certain person, your most dreaded feeling of having someone mean so much that you let flowers bloom in your chest until it's so hard to breathe and you cough them up.

"My parents asked me to study dance in another country," he mumbles one day, a shaky breath leaving his lips, "Please give me a reason not to go."

"Chase your drive, Sungie," you whisper back. You lean your head further to his chest, safe and warm and fading, "I love you, so choose your dreams over me."

There's the slightest hint of betrayal in his voice, a tinge of rejection in his eyes, "If you love me, why would you make me choose?"

If you love me, why can't you choose me? You selfishly ask, the kid in you whining at the thought of being left alone. The greedy part of you begs to ask him to stay, the needy part of you wants to hug him until he's so full of you that he forgets even the bare thought of wanting anything else. The silent voice inside you, the one that learned and keeps learning, the one that could've saved you so many times if you listened to it, sighs sadly. Don't risk anyone's future for your present, it seems to say.

"Because I love myself too," you look directly to his eyes, cupping his cheeks in between your palms, "and we need to put ourselves before anybody else."

And yet again, you're starstruck by the almost golden swirls in his irises, a peek of his soul. You think his eyes are beautiful — astounding, art worthy, a sight to never get tired of. He thinks they're only beautiful because he's looking at you.

This thing with Jisung isn't something you should've let go. You shouldn't have let him go but you weren't ready and the last thing you wanted was to hurt someone who held you so close beautifully. He didn't mean to, though — it was just too hard not to go overboard, and the next thing he knew, he was in love. He didn't mean to, so he walks you home the last night, hand in hand with a certain something hidden underneath his mellow smile. Jisung stands in front of you, waiting for you to open your gates, but you don't move. You stay basking in the tenderness of his gaze.

You think the little problem is that he's even more breathtaking up close and in silence, when the night feels so dead that it thrives — you feel like if you weren't so broken, if you don't keep on seeing another person when you look at him in the eyes, if you let go of the past, Jisung would be everything your heart desired. It just so happened that you two are both too infinite for forever, too broken to fix anything for the latter. Jisung was too charming — his smile was one that doesn't ask for attention but still steals it, never content with just taking your breath away so he takes with him your mind and soul.

You can't handle losing any more of yourself, though, so you smile, "Thank you for waiting."

"I have always been waiting for you," he grins shyly. You make a mental note to remember him like this — dyed locks a mess on top of his head and glasses messily perched on his nose bridge, tall and too pretty to be real, eyes so loving and expressive. There's an obvious sorrow in his voice, "Without fail, consistently, inevitably, forevermore."

You smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheeks, "Good night, Jisung."

The last note comes in between the pages of your notebook, a pretty pastel purple accompanied by pressed wildflowers. There, in his messy letters and colorful ink, reads a confession:

Maybe I couldn't stop myself from falling because it felt like flying with you.

You shake your head, sigh reading 'I told you not to do that'. Still, you feel a tug at your chest, a link between the two of you in the sense that you seem to be moving in synchrony with these words — Park Jisung is your last love, you swear. You shift your eyes, tired of the same chain all over again, flipping the note to read the words behind them. 

When you find the right love at the wrong time, what will you do to make it work? 

You sigh to yourself as you read the question, tracing the pristine paper with your pen, and finally, finally you smile;

Let it go. Set it free, because the greatest love of all is the one that lets you grow.

You tilt your head up, holding back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. 

────── ❁ ──────

Zhong Chenle invades your life like a hurricane of mixed emotions, a little like three months just in time when you finally decided you've had enough heartbreaks. You meet him from one of your friends, Qian Kun, and literally had to stop and wonder how in the world he managed to find this thing — you can't help it, alright? Chenle just stood silent and proud, clad in leather and rumors and reputations and reeking of expensive. He comes in the scene like thoughts as turbulent as unwanted flashbacks and as easily as finding trouble looking for the right answer when you're in a rush.

Quickly as he entered your life, he became a friend; you're too familiar with this scene, but you've had enough. You can't take any more. You've spent most of your life haunted by sugar smiles and breathy laughs and in exchange, had yourself break everything you wanted to keep intact. It doesn't matter that he's not at all what he's perceived to be, it doesn't matter that he makes your breath hitch. You don't even care what you're going against with, if it's fate or heavenly beings or the world — no more. You can't anymore.

The world is the ocean and the ocean is a God — people are mere sailors who think they're stronger than the tides, but they're not; once the waters have made their decision to kill you, there's no reason you should fear the phenomenons trying to do you harm. It seems like it's made that plan, that thing you hoped so much you wouldn't do. Chenle knows so he smiles at you brightly, "Don't you dare run away from what you're feeling."

"Else what, you gonna run after me?" You bite back just for the sake of it, laughter bubbling from your throat, "Gonna go chase me down?"

He shrugs, taking a challenge and a risk, "You better not regret."

"Absolutely fucking not." Kun hisses after you've told him what happened, months after you've started dating and you're tired of hiding it already. Your friends already tease you about getting together, anyway, so why should you even hide? Apparently, this. The profanities leaving his mouth should worry you, really, but it doesn't; not as much as his disagreement. Still, you couldn't even bother to ask him why because you see it in his eyes — you know him that much, you're familiar with that look — "You're not in love with Chenle, please, we both know this."

"I am in love with him!" You say, hurt. The look in his eyes softens, but the pain of his word doesn't, neither does his determination, "Kun, please. I didn't tell you just so you could lecture me, I told you because you're my friend! I do love him!"

"Are you, really? In love with him, you say? Completely?" Your eyes shift to the side after his statement, the lack of sarcasm and warmth in his tone both bothering you. You want to cry. When you look at Kun, you find he feels just as much. "You're not in love with him in the way he deserves."

There's a dry chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your bag, standing up with a tear slowly rolling down in your cheek. More than devastation, there's a certain withering look in your eyes. Kun tries to apologize, but you're already moving away from him. The betrayal in your voice is impossible to ignore and forget, "How dare you make accusations about how I'm feeling?"

Falling in love with Chenle wasn't in the plan; in fact, you hardly even had any plans to begin with. As another fact, the only plan was to not fall in love with anyone anymore. Plans are ever-changing things, you'd always counter, they depend on the situation. When Chenle came in your life, you figure there happened to be another shift — something significant had changed, a good change.

Maybe it is why you didn't even take Kun seriously. You've always hoped that all those lows would lead to this point, the part where there's content spreading on your chest, a feeling just as bright as the luminescent blanket of embedded diamonds and rubies, a sky full of stars. By your side, the boy looks at you with eyes shining just as much; Zhong Chenle, badly misunderstood, so truly loved. You couldn't help but pull him in a kiss — giggly and messy, chaste and ever so delicate. 

You think you could spend lifetimes just staring at him. You swore on it, really, to not be in love with him. More than anybody else, you hoped to fate that you'll never fall in love again. It's just that this person — Zhong Chenle, he has a tendency to be very addicting, and oh, how easily addicted you are. His kiss a lovely burn against your lips, his words a heavenly whisper to your ear, his existence a delightful surprise. You find it inevitable to fall because of the many similar nights before this, just weeks after you two met. Those days where you two were laughing way too hard for midnight and your heart blossomed with happiness it hasn't felt for long. It's the sweetest kind of doom.

It's doom, nonetheless. 

"With whom was your first relationship with?" Chenle suddenly asks, no hint of jealousy in his eyes, but there is, aside from pure curiosity, something else — lost, baffled, seeking an explanation for something he doesn't even think he should know. "I mean, you're mine. You're my first love, but I know I'm not yours, and I'm curious. "

"You don't even know him, Lele." You laugh, trying to hide your hesitation. The boy insists, says that he just needs a name. You roll your eyes affectionately, "Huang Renjun. He's a great guy, but timing kinda messed up."

Chenle hums appreciatively, but he stops trying to find constellations and making up shapes of his own; instead, he dives in a pool thoughts deeper than the dark. He thinks of what he doesn't know if he believes in, but he keeps his eyes up at the stars and hopes to God that his life wasn't such a movie; he stays quiet.

"Who's Jaemin, then?" The question comes, harmless but shocking nonetheless. Chenle breaks his stare from the dull-starred sky and looks at you with a smile brighter than daylight. His question makes your gut twist. "Jaemin who danced with you under the rain... Jaemin who made your day with corny jokes, with late-night talks, with coffee, with notes."

You don't reply, so he ponders some more. He thinks about walking the streets holding hands, he thinks of cheek kisses. He thinks of waking up tomorrow and doing all of that with you. He looks forward to a couple of years — maybe you'll move in together, maybe you'll share a place and clothes and everything. He thinks of counting down the memories, having lived most of his life satisfied. Chenle thinks of doing it all with you; someone who takes tragedies and turns them into masterpieces. Someone who sings sad songs with a saccharine smile.

"Jaemin with a reputation, known for all the wrong reasons..." his eyes cast down, dull and slowly piecing everything together, "Just like me."

He thinks of a vow, a promise — to the stars, till dawn do us part. He thinks of how near the sun is from rising, and he thinks of silhouette, of being hidden behind one. You don't answer until then, so he just takes it as your reply.

"You don't have to. I already know," he smiles, fingers entwining with yours. "Maybe I just hoped that I didn't have to find out from Kun."

Chenle is innocent, kind of naive. He wears his heart on his sleeves and gifts its pieces to anyone who dares to get to know him. He loves a lot — his friends, his family, stars. A person who grieves the loss of midnight too, when the stars start to fade; you. Because of that, he could forgive anything you did and would do.

It's one of his many ways of love, you see, this thing you have going on. Chenle's just like that — you never know just how much more he can give before he runs out; there's just so much of him and it's difficult to put it into words. He's shown you how he treasures relationships, how he adores everything around him in each and every time a different way and kind. He's shown you so much, all the ways he displays his affection with, this little magic trick. That's not all of it, though, and a little part of you sinks because of the fact that a lifetime will not be sufficient enough for you to know just what this love is, completely, because every passing moment, the boy falls for something; each fondness different from the lasts.

Chenle just loves like that; so much that he doesn't mind being loved for carrying pieces of another person — being adored simply because he made you remember what you didn't want to forget. He thinks, if he doesn't think it matters, it wouldn't; he prays that if he doesn't bring it up, you'd forget. He's loved you for so long but you know so little of his kind of love; ever so pure and limitless, impossible to define and dictate. 

When he holds your hands, though, you feel like it's enough — it's enough to have known slightly more than what you think you should.

"You give too much," are the only words that you were able to form. He looks at you as if to ask if you think so, and you feel the time stop for a bit when he leans his head on your shoulders, his dark locks tickling your skin. You laugh, humorless and sentimental, "Isn't it about time you'd learn to love within limits?"

"You're brilliant, you know?" He mumbles, albeit sleepily. "Kind of infinite. There are no restrictions in the love you deserve."

Something about brilliant just hits so different from beautiful — something so damning and sweet and you feel it again; just how much love you have in you, how much of it you are willing to give. Maybe boundaries really aren't your thing, maybe its the reason why you let Chenle adore you beyond what you know you can take, why you allowed him to give more than he should've given. Maybe it's why you poured affection after affection without conditions — maybe that's why you were selfish enough to love shadows. Maybe it's as most people say — you tend to burn too bright, to share too much of yourself, and not everybody can handle that. You're a bit too much for others. Maybe it's why you find yourself sitting down, pen roughly scribbling on paper.

Somewhere, there's a soul aching for your love... but no matter how much we try, we know it's not here, with me.

────── ❁ ──────

Kun doesn't knock at your door until a few weeks later, and whether it was him giving you space or him not being able to leave Chenle alone, you think of it as a blessing in disguise. It wasn't even after a week or two that you found it in you to get your life together — fake it till you make it, clean up your home, clean up your mess. You greet him with a smile on your face, tears prickling your eyes, "Come in."

Kun doesn't even say anything, he just puts the snacks he bought somewhere and crashes the sofa. He turns off the television, eyes the clearly was-messy place, and huffs at you, "It's just me. You don't have to play cool with me when you're feeling so broken."

"You're acting so much like Kim Dongyoung." You whisper just enough that he could hear before making your way to him and sobbing in his arms. Kun lets you stay like that, his hands threading your hair and affectionately patting your back, a soft 'I told you you're not ready yet' that's less scolding than it is loving. You stop crying then, just miserable sobs and sniffles, and he stands up to get you a cup of water. You look at him.

 "Thank you, Kun."

Suddenly, his not amused expression is back. He moves away a little, placing a strict space in between the two of you, and then directly looks into your eyes, "Were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Were you ever gonna tell me, or was I just supposed to learn about it after you've left?"'

"Kun," you breathe deeply, "I need to."

"For who?" He asks, hoping that amongst the reasons read your name. Are you finally choosing yourself? Is it still because of other people? He wants to ask, but his voice keeps failing him and all he can whisper is words about how he's proud of you, how much you've endured, how badly he wishes to ease the pain. Kun doesn't look at you with disappointment, with hurt; he looks at you with pure utter understanding, and you find it in you, a reason to smile.

────── ❁ ──────

You can't help but reminisce things as you walk from your home to the train station, neither can you when you asked the person in charge for which train will get you out of the place the quickest. You didn't really have plans, you never did, and perhaps that's where everything starts to go wrong; you just forget things, or at least, you try to suppress them. You never tried to solve anything.

This town knew too much — there are memories of Renjun on the trail from here to the benches, flashes of Donghyuck's sly grin meeting your gaze in the reflection of the glass whenever you look at the vending machines. You feel like you've walked every street in here, hand in hand with Mark, like you've danced under all these blinking lights with Jisung, like you've been to everywhere with Chenle. There is so much to remember, and this place can't hold them all and it breaks your heart so much, knowing that many things are meant to be memories, but not all memories should be remembered. You close your eyes in silent hopes that no matter how painful, you never forget one second.

It was impossible, surely, but you think that the thought of being able to recall them completely will be enough to keep you company. Even until now, you don't really want to be alone — some people are just not meant to be by themselves, and sometimes those people aren't really good at settling down either — being one of them, you leap from one crumbling bridge to another, hoping to never feel the pain of a great fall. There was never an end where you didn't. 

Waiting for the train to board, you look back to a certain place in time. The one where you think everything began.

Your first love is something you remember vividly. It came in the form of childhood crushes, wildflowers, and ruined playgrounds. It's a coincidental meeting; you were running away from your house, tired of the yelling and the crashing and the constant fear in your little heart, while he was sneaking away from his house to play more because he's a 'rebel'. Your first heartbreak takes some years forward, years just a little far from now even if it feels like it's been forever standing here, waiting for an uncertain return.

Until now, you think that it was that night under a rusty slide and above dry leaves when your life started to change.

You meet again with Na Jaemin just minutes before your train arrives, a brief eye-contact and a skip of heart and it doesn't take so much for you to know; those eyes, that smile, the red string sitting too tightly on his wrist. You remember what promise that meant — you know that, right? The thing they say about red strings, how they connect people? — and what childish hope that strand held — if we wear this, we would always find our way to each other, because we have a red string connecting us now! You remember, you do, really — of course, you do; how you could you ever forget him? Surely, maybe he's grown a lot, and everything about him has changed, he even dyed his soft hair blue. You're certain, though, you knew that it's him — maybe the red string worked. Maybe it's the butterfly effect and the heartbreaks your heart and several others nursed. Maybe it's the look in his eyes that remained soft and sweet and honest.

You miss your train, but you can't help but feel like you're just in time.

"Jae—" you choke, eyes wide and shocked, "Jaemin!"

────── ❁ ──────

Na Jaemin meets you again on a busy train station, three years ago after he just came back in town for a visit. He remembers the punch in his gut at the sight of your face, the red string delicately wrapped on your wrist, far too small but still so beautiful. He remembers the sullen look on your face, the realization dawning on him that you're late for your class and he chuckles; you never really made it in time for school, even as a child. The rain pours and he has to fiddle his bag for his umbrella, opens it so that he could let you in. When he takes a step closer though, you were talking to another boy, and Jaemin thinks he's the one a little late.

He comes across you a lot of times next to that, too, but never when you're alone. He thinks, his timing is a mildly off as well. Every time he tries to come and talk to you — when you were sitting alone in the middle of a busy restaurant, inside the coffee shop, in front of his niece's kindergarten — there was always somebody else. It reminds him of back then, one of your conflicts as you started to grow up and apart; the many times you needed each other and the other person is too caught up needing someone else. Jaemin thinks that the beat you both are dancing to is a little too delayed.

Jaemin remembers meeting a boy just as blue as him, a face a little familiar, smiling longingly at the two dancing under the moon. He remembers eyes as regretful as his, he remembers a smile, "They look so happy, don't they?"

None of that matters, though, not when he's pulling you into a hug and dragging you to a rooftop, not when you're several floors off the ground and beside you is Na Jaemin, sitting side by side, with eyes that take you back to the past and makes you hope for an unbroken present.

When you two stand under the bright sky and you stare at him instead of gushing about flying, Jaemin realizes just how drastically different this present is. If the look in your eyes says anything, he's certain that you feel the same.

You have just always been waiting for this moment, you know? And you missed your train, but you were just in time to meet Jaemin, and the rush of affection cleared all the lines you had to cross and everything was light and filled with teary laughter before right now. You've had it planned, the both of you, multiple scenarios where you two could meet again — none of them are this way. It's awkward and tense and the other feels so far away; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Jaemin could leave. He should leave, he figures, thinking that it's always been what he's best at. It's not working, anyway; maybe it was him being gone and you going through so much, maybe it's life knocking some sense in the both of you, but none of that matters — it's not working. It's just like this, relationships — two people could start at the same point and still go separate ways. It's not meant to be. He could leave, forget, maybe he'd find enough courage that he marks this chapter closed and finally, finally stop thinking of childhood feelings and even the grown-up ones. He could find a new beginning in this chapter closed.

That's the way it goes, anyway, right? Some ends feel like new starting points. Jaemin could drop it here. He could make it easier for himself, he'd be able to say this isn't working and he'd be back to his normal self; the one that looks at you and looks for you in a way that he did before falling in love. He could be young and free, away from untold reasons and unsaid apologies and undelivered feelings. He could make it easier for himself.

But to hell with ease, he didn’t want to.

"Remember, back then, we would always sneak out to play in the rain?" Jaemin is the first to break the silence, "And we look at flowers... you used to cry at everything back then!"

You flick his arm at that, and he sits on the floor next to the railing because he couldn't hold himself up anymore, laughing. Even until now, this still feels like a very vivid dream. You spend the night trying to believe that this is reality — Jaemin does the same.

Fate has a tendency to bring people apart and put them back together again, so you can't really help it that Jaemin was months and weeks away from leaving the town again. There was a point where you cursed time — you just found him, and now, why is he being taken away from you? There was a time where Jaemin thought you weren't meant to be — if you are, then why do you keep on being forced apart?

He thinks he really should stop thinking this way. It's just something really odd, this love stuff, because it's never really just one thing but rather a couple of many nothings to make up an entirely different, supposedly magical occurrence. Love is never just love — it's oftentimes euphoria with even the slightest glimpse of devastation. Jaemin doesn't think he understands why the both of you try so hard to make it easy — no matter how difficult, he knows it's worth it, knows that he'll fight for it.

Jaemin spends his last day in this place smiling, cupping your cheeks as he stands in the middle of a busy train station yet again, this time, with you in his reach. The skies are dark but his smile is bright, and it burns brighter when you flush after asking him why he's staring at you so hard. The boy cooes, "Perfect should try to be you."

"If perfect was me, perfect would be a mess," you quickly counter even through you being too flustered. In your absolute anxiety, you think that everyone is looking and judging you. With the way Jaemin is staring at you, you don't think you'd mind even if they whisper things so mean.

"A lovable mess," he raspily whispers, sincerity in his gaze and honesty in his words. Jaemin smiles, "I can't make this up. I fall for you several times a day, repeatedly."

Jaemin lets go of your face and dips in to kiss your forehead, and then he giddily messes your hair. You can't even bring it in you to get mad — you have several minutes and you have so much to say and the time is too little, your words are so limited. Jaemin asks for your hands and leaves a red string, identical to the ones you gave each other as children but bigger and adorned with the tiniest butterfly charm. You look at him, confused, "What's this?"

"A farewell gift, and something I'll definitely come back for," he flicks your forehead as if to say it's so obvious, and you can't help but feel like time is running out all over again. You breathe, unsteady and ragged, a desperate call of his name, "Na Jaemin?"

He doesn't answer, but he wipes the tears streaming down your face and he hums.

"I'm so happy that the ending is me and you." You finally confess, taking him aback. You smile, sweet and cruelly beautiful, brutally emotional, and if there were no children around and Jaemin was a tad bit more shameless, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He couldn't, though, so he just gapes and stares and listens.

"I'm so happy that it's back to you."

As the train boards, you find yourself realizing how tough the world gets — the lovely, sinking feeling lingering in your chest as you recall the highs and the lows of life and fate.

You've had far too many great loves in your life, so much that using the term would probably not sound special anymore to other people — but they're different, each one of them, the way they loved distinct at least — and this one, just this one, Na Jaemin, by far, is the greatest.

The end is sweet and lovely, if a bit sour and bitter. The end is where you hopefully find yourself.

────── ❁ ──────

"Mom and dad keeps on fighting. " your nephew murmurs under his breath, one sunny Friday spent walking on streets that are cooling down, on the way to what must be the happiest place on Earth for a kid. "Do you think they don't love each other anymore?"

You nervously scratch your nape, thinking of easy ways to reply to the question. You think of your childhood, how you spent most of it dreaming of love. How until today, the thought of it still haunts you. You just shrug, "People just have some bad days, but look, they're still together, right?" he nods, and you feel a blossom of proudness in your chest, "They love each other, and that's why they had you."

The kid suddenly frowns, "Why do people get together, then?"

You halt your steps before continuing, on the verge of asking why he asked that question before you realize that it's your nephew, anyway. He loves holding mature conversations even if he doesn't understand anything, he likes asking away and being taken seriously, like an adult. You chuckle, "Uhm, because people make each other happy!"

"Why don't you have someone, then?" You don't know how to answer his question, and neither did you expect it. He looks too interested to be brushed off. "You said people make other people happy!"

"Hm, well, I do have someone," you think of sugar smiles and giggly kisses as you say those words. There's a comforted exhale leaving your lips as you look down on the kid, "But, he's not the only reason I'm happy... I'm happy with myself, without him."

"Do you not love him, then? Because you're happy without him?"

"I love him, I do, a lot! We went through a lot to find each other again," you smile kindly, patient. "But it's a different kind of love, just like how it is a different kind of happy with him."

His lips jut out, wondering about things not so completely disconnected from his first questions. He then sighs as if he's carrying the weight of the world, "If you had to find each other again, it means one of you left. Why did one of you leave if you love each other, then?"

Why?

"Well, you see, maybe..." there's no answer pouring from your lips, but emotions threaten to spill from your eyes and then down your cheeks. The child won't understand your tears, though, so you think of familiar faces and the one you entwined your fingers with, like home. You keep your head held high. "Maybe it's so that we could find each other again in a time where we would be better versions of ourselves."

It's not enough to sate his curious mind. "But if he's almost always never here, how are you supposed to know if he's the love you're supposed to have, then?"

"The love I'm meant to find has always been here, within me," you say genuinely, and the child, ever so confused but curious, remains silent to understand. You shake your head a bit, "but with him, this love grows bigger and bigger, and it helps us cross any kind of distance between us."

Finally satisfied, he stops asking questions at the sight of his most favorite place, muttering incomprehensible gibberish as he tugs you closer to the entrance. Then you think of how happy you are to be standing under this sky, above this ground — you think of the butterfly effect, all the little moments and major events, and everything that passed and will forever remain remembered. You think of all that lead you to this.

You look at the reflection of yourself from the glass walls of the candy shop, and you couldn't help a smile. The look in your eyes screams dreamy as you push open the door. This is it — you're on the way to loving yourself. 

Welcome home.

[should-be-sleeping]

Pardon if this one's less coherent, it was written in fragments.

I got a text from our neighbor as we were leaving go to the store.

"Can you drive a sports car? 6 speed."

I respond letting her know that I can't drive, but my partner could. She says she's going to will herself to move her legs, then she wants to drive herself to the store because she has no food. I offer to go for her but she says she needs to prove that she's still strong. I tell her I understand but if it's too much we'd be happy to shop for her since we go to the grocery store every Friday anyway. It'd be no trouble.

As we are headed to the car, we see her heading towards hers. Surprised to see she got out there so quickly, I tell my partner to go ahead and load up the car, and I go over to make sure she's actually in a space to operate a vehicle safely. Thankfully she is exceptionally clear at the time and had made it all the way from her house to her car with just her cane. No walker.

I greet her and assure her if she'd rather, we can go for her, or we could all go together. But she really needs to prove to herself she can still, at least once in a while, do normal things herself. I nod in understanding and assure her she's strong as hell. She starts to cry, so I give her a hug and then help her into the car because it's a ways down when you're in that much pain.

My partner comes over to make sure everything is good and finally gets to meet her himself. She is delighted to finally meet him. She is double delighted by his Tom Petty t-shirt. We talk about Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks, she sings a little Janis Joplin for us. She got to meet Tom Petty once, I'm so jealous.

She's a little embarassed to still be in her 49ers gear from yesterday. I tell her I'll help her change as soon as I get home. She thanks me and I tell her it's not a problem at all, because it isn't. She deserves dignity and comfort and I'm happy to help. Had she texted earlier, I would've gone over to help her get dressed before the store.

We ask her which store she's headed to and she says she isn't sure. That she likes to get to the light and decide in the moment. Left for one store, right for the other. When we both arrive at the light, she turns left. She'll coincidentally be headed to the same grocery store we go to after running a different errand. Maybe we'll see her there.

When we arrive at the store we don't see her car. We're not sure if she's already been there and shopped at warp speed, or if she got there but then couldn't go in, or if maybe she changed her mind and went elsewhere at the last minute. I check my phone. No text. That's probably a good sign.

We do our shopping and I make sure to get lime popsicles just for her. My partner suggests not, since she is shopping herself and might get her own, but something tells me to get them anyway. It'll be funny and make her laugh, if nothing else, if she winds up with two boxes of popsicles today.

As we approach home we see her parked with her hazards on, just getting out of her car to bring in her groceries. My partner slows down to let me out so that I can assist her. She bought me a bouquet of flowers. They're beautiful. She says she was trying to remember all the colors of my shirt, to match them to it. I give her a big hug and thank her for being so thoughtful.

I carry her bags and help her up to her house so we can put away her groceries together. She is telling me the things she got, not much, and says she left without getting most of what she wanted because she needed to get outta there. Worst of all: she left without buying popsicles!

I say, "Oh! That's okay, we actually got lime popsicles just for you while we were there!" She cries and hugs me again. We spend a little more time chatting and then she goes to park her car properly and I head home to put my flowers in water. I let her know I'll be back in a little while with her popsicles.

She also wasn't able to get Gatorade (her hospice nurse wants her to drink it because she's very dehydrated) or hotdogs. She says she knows hotdogs aren't the best food, and I tell her not to worry, I like them too. No judgment! Perhaps I'll see if I can't walk over to the corner store tomorrow to at least get her some Gatorade, they probably don't sell hotdogs there, but maybe.

I head in to trim the bouquet and put it in water. It's a beautiful rainbow of colorful flowers: snap dragons, sunflowers, gladioluses, African daisies, day lilies, and chrysanthemums. Many of them do in fact match the colors on my shirt.

I do a few chores and then my partner and I go to take her the popsicles together. She's so happy about the popsicles and the company. We stay with her for a couple of hours, helping her tidy up a little while talking about her past and cracking jokes. She cries a few times, so happy to have someone there to laugh at her jokes, because she loves making people laugh.

"I feel like I'm in that show, have you seen it? Squid Games? Is that a good thing or bad thing?" she asks.

I tell her it depends on whether you're winning or losing. She cackles.

She has two life size cardboard cut-outs of herself in her living room (have I somehow not mentioned those before?). She explains she got them during the start of the pandemic to keep her company. One of them is her dressed as a witch, the other is her in all of her best 49ers gear. It's probably my favorite pandemic purchase I've ever seen.

She is distressed by a blouse she found, because she had bought it for a friend of hers that now lives out of state and had meant to send it to her through the mail before being hospitalized. Now she can't and she had said she would and this makes her feel just awful. I tell her I'd be happy to mail it for her. She offers to pay me to do this for her, I tell her that's not necessary. Friends help friends and we're friends now. She cries and I hug her.

She finds a black lace shaw and says I'd look great with it and I tell her it makes her look like Stevie Nicks. This delights her and she drapes it over her own shoulders exclaiming, "You get me!" I do. It's incredible actually how much alike we are, so far apart in age.

Eventually my partner must leave to run another errand, but I stay with her because it's obvious she's not ready to be alone again. By now she is a little less lucid than she had been earlier, so we just hang out and she tells me about how she used to paint and make jewelry but her hands can't do either anymore. How she used to hold a few golf records, locally at least, but now she can't golf anymore.

She introduces me to reusable zip-ties, which I did not know existed and I try to help her find the rest of them. She has two bags of them, somewhere. She hasn't been able to find them since hospice came through and put all her stuff into bags. I promise if we don't find them today, we can keep looking tomorrow.

She says she'd like to go outside because she dislikes being inside now that her house is such a mess, so I help her out. We sit out there for a little while talking about how much Nature is there for us. She wishes fewer cars existed so she could appreciate it uninterrupted. I agree.

After some time she says she'd like to take a few swings with her golf clubs, so I go get them for her and she pretends to hit balls out on the lawn. I joke this is ideal because neither of us have to go get the balls. She laughs so hard I have to go steady her and tells me that's a good way to think of it.

After a while longer, I need to head home, so I help her find her phone so that she can text me if she needs anything. Then I help her back outside so she can watch the sunset while she swings her golf clubs. About thirty minutes later she does text, and I'm so happy to see it. She needs some help and she's comfortable enough to just ask for it.

She's hungry but aware she doesn't have the presence to cook safely. We're eating dinner ourselves, but my partner quickly finishes his food and heads over to cook for her. She keeps him there for over an hour, but she's such an interesting person he doesn't mind spending time with her at all and she's having a great time telling him stories. He even got her to take her PM pills despite being a Cowboys fan.

I wasn't able to get any of the information I'd hoped to, to help her out with the housing situation, but I'll keep trying during her lucid moments. I did learn her birth month and year and her last name though, so perhaps that can get the ball rolling.

Tomorrow I'll try to head over for a bit to make sure her leftovers from tonight are stored safely but in a way that is accessible for her and maybe bring her Gatorade if I can find any.

Tough day today... and friendly reminder that being human is easier when we help each other.

I saw one of our neighbors, an older woman we sometimes talk to in passing, sitting outside of her house. I don't know what exactly made me look twice, but on second glance as we drove by I realized her walker was in the grass. She was otherwise just sitting there, like she had a thousand times before, so it would have been easy to assume she was fine and go on with my life as normal but something told me to go check in on her anyway.

She was not fine. She was the polar opposite of fine. Just diagnosed with terminal cancer not fine. No next of kin not fine. A veteran facing eviction from her house for missing rent while in the hospital not fine. In constant debilitating pain not fine. Only semi-lucid not fine. She was extremely alone not fine.

I thought, at most, she might be bored while unable to pick up her walker not fine. A five minute detour from my day not fine. A help her back into her house and say "see you later!" not fine. Instead I spent the last three hours with her because she was so scared and alone and no one should be alone.

We talked a lot while I was there. She's actually two years younger than my mom (who also has cancer but slightly better luck, I guess). I helped her into her house and got her a drink and we talked about what all is going on with her. None of it was good. I was as reassuring as I could be, but there's only so much of this I can actually help her with.

"Why did you come?" she asked through tears.

"Because you looked like you might need some help."

She called me an angel. I told her I was just doing my best. I told her that kindness should never be rare. That we should all try to make the world just a little bit better than it was.

She offered to pay me but I told her I was just there as a friend. Before today we were basically strangers. No need to repay me with anything other than her company, I assured her. She cried, a lot. I managed not to somehow. Something tells me she had needed to cry long before this but in being Strong she never had the chance to.

She needed to get her mail, which is a long walk when you're disabled because it is not at all handicap accessible (across a parking lot, over a bridge, across a small field). So I helped her get her mail. We stopped every three feet because her pain was so bad, but she was determined to be able to go do this with me and not just send me on an errand. I patiently stayed with her and reminded her, through her apologies, it was fine to take our time: there was a nice breeze and birds were singing. She appreciated this. She loves nature.

Halfway back she said she wanted to go to the pool. To put her feet in the water. She loves water, and has not been able to even see the pool in a month. Neither of us were dressed for swimming, but I took her to the pool anyway. There is a stair leading down to it, meaning she couldn't bring her walker, so I offered her my arm.

We went to the pool. She put her feet in the water and then, with more energy and enthusiasm than I'd seen the whole time, she jumped in. In her fancy dress! She was instantly ten years younger at least, clear and happy, floating in the sun. Dress and all. She grew up with a pool and had been on a swim team.

I sat by the edge of the pool while she swam, keeping her company and also making sure she was okay. When she got tired I took her back home and then had to help her get undressed and redressed. I made sure she felt no shame. Getting out of wet clothes is hard for anyone, let alone someone with like twenty pounds of tumors racking them with constant pain.

She was so fucking happy to have gone swimming.

She is trying to "make everything right" before she goes. Trying to repay her debt to society and her debts in general. She couldn't understand why the corporation that owns our houses wouldn't take her money. She was genuinely distressed -- not to be homeless on her deathbed but to not leave this world with a clean slate. I told her intent matters. She can only do her best.

This company not letting her repay her debt was their fault, not hers.

When I finally needed to go, I told her to let me know any time she needed a hand or just wanted company. She told me she was going to die tonight. I told her I hoped not, so I could see her tomorrow. I offered her a hug, we hugged and she sobbed for a solid ten minutes into my shoulder. I told her she was okay. That it was okay.

When I got home I cried myself, because I could not believe she was going through all of that alone. I cannot even imagine how isolated she must have felt. Once I pulled myself back together I sent her a text reminding her to reach out any time and I'd do my best to come over. Like, any time at all.

I hope she is here tomorrow.

[softysuho]

pretty boy & zombies

pairing: yunho x reader

summary: In the year 3013, the government unleashed their first wave of "natural selection". They took out elderly by offering a vaccine that was told to prevent further sicknesses and stated that it was mandatory. After the elderly were wiped from the earth, phase two was put into action. There they unleashed a monster. The government started the zombie apocalypse in hopes that the elite human race would show itself.

word count: 1.9k (a/n its been awhile and this is lowkey shit, I also can't figure out how to put "keep reading" in with the new Tumblr update, but I hope you all enjoy this drabble💖)

It was day like every other day, humid and way too hot for any sort of physical activity. The small house you sit in does little to keep the warm weather out, it was a cute place from what was left. There had been an old couple in here prior, from what you gathered. They looked cute and happy in the photos that were scattered across the walls. Most of the food leftover had gone bad, but they did have a decent amount of medical supplies. 

You sighed as you thought back to your home, your parents and your little baby sister. It was hard to keep track of the days you have been without your family, four or five months maybe. Your college days were long behind you now, no more parties, no more all nighters doing homework. Everything had been taken from you. 

On an average day supply run, you can still see the tall billboards, promising a better future. The face of the man who decided to play God and Mother Nature. What bullshit. You wondered if he is dead now, if the zombies got to him like they did to everyone else in the towns. 

One could only hope. 

As for other survivors out there, you know that there are some sharing the near city with you. One day stores could have shelves of food and the next day there seems to be half. Although you haven’t crossed paths with any. Who knows if they would be friendly. 

Maybe they’d put you out of your misery. 

Most days that sounded nice. To be able to join your family in the afterlife. Somedays you knew you didn’t want to die, the fear of what comes next after death chilled your bones. You certainly don’t want to feast off human guts and brains for the next eternity. What if the undead are still the people they were before? Maybe they can only watch themselves turn into a monster.  

As you were running low on filling meals, left with light snacks, you decided it was best to into the deeper parts of the city. It was risky, considering it used to be the most populated, but desperate times come to desperate measures.

You grabbed your gear and your sharp machete and adjusted your makeshift armor straps before taking off. Staying low in the tree was one of the safer moves, taking the longest way into the city in hopes of avoiding hordes. The nature was a beautiful sight, the refreshing smell of pine and the distant trickling of water. Normally it'd be calming if you didn't have to fear the undead lurking.

You wondered if nature would begin to go back in time, before the greedy human fingers that destroyed their beauty. However, you wondered if there would be any animal left once the zombies come and eat them as well. One could only hope they'll be okay.

As the trees began to thin out, you could see the city that used to home to many. The streets were covered in half eaten corpses, trash from the chaos and blood. In the beginning, this sight had you emptying your stomach in a near by bush, 10 deep breaths and one 'you can do this'. These days though, it was just the normal sight you'd become accustomed to.

Normally, these trips would be to the same grocery store you've been too for the last few months. You knew these roads now, and every nook and cranny on the way there. But today was different. You were tired of looking like you just crawled out of an old ladies closet, no offense to her. So you decided to head towards one of the stores with both clothing and food. Hopefully you'd find a new blanket to take as well.

There was a light pep in your step as you made your way there, a small amount of excitement you haven't felt in a long time at the thought of some new clothes. You wondered what else there would be there besides what you need and that thought was fun to think about. So similar to what would've went through your head before the destruction of humanity.

You stuck close to the walls of the tall buildings, trying to be as quiet as you could. You couldn't afford to risk being caught now, out in the open by the dead before you even had a chance to see how bad the rest of the city really was.

What you didn't realize, though, was how lost you were in your thoughts. You inched closer to that dark alleyway you would've avoided originally, one that could hide several lurking bodies within.

It was too late by then, a large and warm hand covered your mouth as an arm wrapped itself around your torso. Alarm bells were going off in your head, slowly realizing that you had to escape before you met your doom. Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, praying to whatever was out there to let you live for another day.

"Would you shut up? I'd rather not regret saving your ass." It was a harsh whisper against your ear, but it did its job as you calmed in the unknown (hopefully) humans arms. "You were being followed." This time the voice was soft, hand finally falling away from your mouth to pull you closer and further into the darkness.

Only then did you notice the scuffing of feet and deep voices. You could tell they weren't far, and they clearly would've seen you walking alone at some point. A thousand 'thank yous' raced through your head towards the person behind you and you could only hope they could feel how thankful you were. You turned to look towards the stranger, only seeing that is was a male who was taller than you. Or at least, thats what you assumed.

The two of you stayed within the alleyways darkness even after the group walked past and out of ear shot. You heard a breath of relief behind you, followed by a brief brush of shoulders. As the man peered out from the darkness, you saw the messy mop of black hair and a quarter of his face. Inching closer to the man, your eyes popped over his shoulder and scanned for any signs of movement. When you both deemed it safe, he motioned you with his fingers and brought you in the opposite direction of the group.

"The hell were you doing out in the open like that?" He said above a whisper. However you were shocked by the way his eyes sparkled in the sunlight, simply managing a small shrug. He rolled his eyes at you in response, "I'm Yunho.. I've been living in that upscale apartment complex a ways down for about a month, and I swear I've seen everyone who is left around here. You're new?"

You scoffed lowly and looked over your shoulder. Why was he telling you this? Did he want to take you back and murder you for supplies? "I've been living in the woods, there was a farm a little ways out and I've only stuck to the store on that side of town."

Yunho hummed, seemingly lost in thought. He didn't seemed too beat up for being out here alone, not like you at least. There were scratches on your arms from shrubbery as well as old blood from a run in with the dead. Yunho was handsome and from the glimpses of his smile, you could tell it was bright.

You had been walking side by side for awhile now, going into the town deeper than you ever had been. The building were getting taller, more expensive and grand. First floor windows were either boarded up or broken, probably either hiding or stealing. You could picture the busy streets, the high class fashion of the upper working class.

"If you've been here for a month, how come you haven't tried to make friends?" You said softly, looking up at Yunho curiously.

"I had ran into the leader about two weeks ago," He scratched his head, looking from side to side while he kept an eye out. "It was fine at first, we made small talk in one of the stores." Yunho pointed behind him and rolled his eyes, "Somewhere back there, I don't remember. We talked for awhile before one of his buddies came in and claimed he could see a bite mark.. All hell broke out after, but I snuck out the back."

You rose your brows and patted him on the shoulder. "His buddy sounds like a real winner."

When you reached the building, you were pretty amazed at the shape it was left in. There was only one window that was broken, leaving the rest of them untouched. "I don't think anyone attempted to stay here so it was pretty much abandoned." Yunho smirked to himself and took a deep breath before he opened the front doors. "After you, ma'am." He bowed and gestured for you to take a step indoors. You gaped at the interior, if you thought hard enough you could see this place lit up and running as it should. The fountain glowing as the clear water fell into each bowl, grand chandeliers brightening the room. Your face was stuck, awestruck with a small smile. You wished you could've saw everything work in action or had the opportunity to stay a night here with room service.

"Woah.." You whispered when an arm was thrown around your shoulder.

"Wanna go room hunting with me? I've only been to the first five floors." Yunho whispered back as, he too, studied the hotel lobby. Pursing your lips, you shrugged and looked up at Yunho. Studying his features for a few brief moments. He was, indeed, very handsome.

Yunho watched you from the corner of his eye, his lips twitching into a smile. As fast as he could, Yunho turned his whole head to catch you in the act. The smile turning into a giant smirk. "See something you like?" He spoke first, head cocking to the side. "It's okay, I see something I like as well." A wink was sent your way, causing a blush to cover your features.

"Shut up," You joked, side eyeing him before your elbow met his ribs. He chuckled at you and took your hand to pull you to the stairs. "Find me some nice clothes and I'll reward you with a treat." Instead of your voice giving off a confident tone, it came out small and squeaky, leading your blush to darken a tenfold.

"Oh? And what is the treat? I think I should know before doing what I'm told."

"Guess it depends on how well you do."

After several hours of searching, jokes and excitement from not expired food, Yunho was able to come up with a nice sturdy set of blue jeans, a pair of leggings, some new combat boots, three shirts and one giant ass hoodie. He looked at you with wide and innocent eyes, silently asking you for his treat.

With a long sigh, you plopped yourself down on the couch and gestured him to come closer. As soon as he was within arms reach, you gripped his shirt and pulled him down on top of you. "Y/n.. you can't have my shirt." He said with a shit eating grin.

"Just shut up and kiss me."

[lawrising-a]

( continued from here! // @pseudoneiric )

there's a sore sensation nestling against the sensitive skin of his wrist -- not rubbed raw, exactly, considering his tie is too silky to achieve such a feat ( and he, desperately, tried to move as little as possible ) but it still stings. a chiding reminder of what he allowed to happen not even minutes ago. yellow wrapped around him, completely bound and helpless ... it was something he can't say he's done before, not like that. he thinks the correct term would be bondage, but was it? gloved hands sinking beneath layers of flesh to expose the fluttering organs beneath, and expose her own in turn. call him crazy, but that's not what he thought bondage was about. but when was anything with lilian it's textbook definition? he can't blame anyone for his display of vulnerability except himself, completely ensnared with the girl the moment they crossed paths. there were times he watered down his attraction, for both their sakes, blaming her allure for his enchantment. yet lies come clean eventually and here he now perches. the edge of his mused bed, chest rising and falling more then it should as he burns with the black markings drifted upon his ivory skin. lipstick marks painting him in a light he's not used to. he's been stripped of all his warm tones and fake boy scout personas ; left in cool colors. green pants and black marks.

‘and what are you ... the sun?’ whispered a voice earlier, like every hushed word was a secret reserved between the two of them. mat rolls his shoulders, because he doesn't feel that way anymore. never has, honestly. he wants to be beaming lights with a killer gravitational pull, but he ... isn't. the colors on him now is a striking reminder of that : yet he replays lilian's maddening words and fools himself briefly. it's okay to believe lies when she's the one feeding them! as long as she believes it, why can't he humor it? everything she said had been a warped view, a funhouse mirror at those shifty carnivals -- but it was raw honesty from lilian, and he can't turn away the swell of attention. even if he should, even if mat should waltz into the bathroom where she's currently shrouding herself away and spill out the truth. let her know he isn't some angelic force but rather a mockery of one. how matthew naively hopes he can be hers regardless of his lack of good ... it's dizzying, causing his vision to blur, because it's been a while since he's confronted this about himself. the student doesn't like it. but oh, he loves her -- a burning sensation that lights his veins aflame and races his heart.

distractingly, he presses the pad of his rough thumb against the mark on the corner of his lips. a replica of a kiss she once bestowed upon him like salvation itself ( hm, what's with the spur of religious imagery today? hah ). trying to prod away the disappointment that rises every time he feels the wishful want of her actual lips there instead. she has to -- she has to feel something for him at this point, right? that can't be an assumption anymore, can it? questions whirl around as his fingers ghost down his ruined skin, tracing over the words left with his own hands like confirmation. like he's silently saying 'yes, property of lilian eyler.' like he's finally allowing himself a love he thought he wouldn't ever have when he traces, ‘mine. mine. mine-’ that ends with him working his way back up, away from the bulge of his stomach and trembling arms -- away from 'poetry, life, religion' and back to his lips. where he's reminded, with a fuzzy feeling balling up in his chest, 'mine.' almost pushing hard enough to slip a finger through his pink lips, plush and ready for ... mat isn't sure. he just wants her to kiss him there. though he knows she won't, least not today. and even if there's this sickening greed that controls him with a talent, he lets her have that. lets her take all her time in the bathroom and tries not to beg for more. how did she elegantly put in, in all her poetic prose that he's seen briefly in the club? a loyal dog? just for you now, only ever for you, lili--

a shiver rocks his form, startling his hands to the edge of the bed to tear into as he digs his heels into the carpet ( like he once had in the bed, to ground himself, to not buck ). was his pulse racing with the life she declared to adore so much? the man sinks canines into his cheek to hold back from beckoning her out to check. no, no ; he said he'd leave her be. it's a good thing for them both right now. if she had stayed and let the fabric obscuring his view fall from his eyes, he would've reached for her. try to pull them close and he'd ramble like a mad man ... wouldn't he have scared her? some part of him thinks he still has. which wobbles his posture in order to keep his head bowed, like awaiting punishment. almost waiting for pain building in his scalp, because surely she'd card her delicate laced fingers through his hair with a bit more force if she came back out. or was that his gentle throb of arousal wanting that? she got him worked up so easily ; ah, well, at least it's a good exercise for his thinning self control ...

a sigh, shaky and human, whistles out of parted lips. dry due to the fact he can't lick them thanks to the lipstick, though he can't help but wonder if he did -- would he be licking lilian's lips that way? the material touched them ... realizing how wild he is, a thoroughly teased animal, matthew laughs nervously. jesus christ, there's parts of him strewn all around his bedroom, because there's no way mat is fully put together. his brain feels like soupy liquid dripping from his ears and hissing into his scarlet skin. a puzzle of a man that lilian expertly took apart and left half completed. no matter how hard he tries to reel himself in, chase away all the sweetened morbidness delivered, he can't find all the pieces. surely, the clever girl took some with her to the bathroom. she was ... possessive. mat learned that just now. possessive over him, envious of basic things that matthew almost couldn't believe. she'll never know how comforting it was to see. a feeling now nestled happily within because nobody's been possessive of him before! she mustn't of gotten the memo from former friends, didn't hear how expendable he was to everyone who's known him. people don't get jealous for matthew, they don't care how much he sleeps, they don't care if he isolates away -- and they certainly don't care if his eyes linger on a girl with purple hair.

because who would find him special? he's an emotional wreck everyone stays weary of, a boy to eye with skepticism. his jealousy, his rawness, his obsessive love and need is wrong and ugly. you're shunned for those things by society. to the world, mat is anything but special, he's wrong ; so wrong and he's relentlessly tried to change that. but lilian ... she thinks otherwise. feels like he feels. sensitive and lovesick. and while he's always tried to hide before, if the girl with inky hair thinks it's beautiful and radiant ... everyone else must be wrong, because lilian eyler never is! as clever as the devil and twice as pretty, so the saying goes. with a rueful smile, too boyish and gentle for his own sharp face, he thinks it's an accurate fit for his favorite person ever. his throbbing molten core of earth, the darkened reflective surface of his beloved moon.

“im excited about lunch tomorrow, you know?” calls mat, voice as rough as ever ; like he uses it too much. but during this whole date, he fears he hasn't used it enough. “i haven't eaten with another person in a while. i usually just grab an apple and loiter around the library.” did you think i ate with yuri? though the fawn haired male doesn't ask, he quickly kills that assumption if it festered in lilian's mind. “if it goes well, we could ... ah, why don't we eat together from then on? maybe everyday? maybe forever! i think it'd be ... nice.”

the last part is so quiet he's not sure she hears it, but maybe she hears it die off. senses his shyness that bares him like it's her own. matthew doesn't want to dwell in it, so he tries to push forward. telling himself to keep tearing down the walls until there's nothing left ( the bathroom walls or his own? ). she deserves to hear more then his sputters from their little session, brought on by gutting arousal and his own jittery sparks : she deserves the world on an obsidian platter. to know he does want to be owned by her, to understand he'd be so comfortable displaying that label for all to see. and for lilian to be told, sternly, that he'd choose her out of a line up with certainty most would be scared of. love isn't half way for him, ever, and lilian needs to know that. even if his heart thunders and he wants to hear more of her disarming voice instead.

“and i want to be yours ; your idea with the whole 'blindly leading me around' wasn't half bad!” heartfelt chuckling makes him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin, her skin now, isn't it? “i'd let you blind me, i'd let you led me even if i was deaf and mute. you could be all my senses, because maybe then i'd trust them more. you don't know how much i wish these words on me were permanent, lilian --” mat twists his mouth, ruins his hair more. “darling, you just ... i've tried so hard to be normal this year, more then any other, yet you make me so helpless! it's ... how do you do that? do you know how special you are, how beautiful? perfect ... well, perhaps not that ; because you're stupid for worrying about not owning me. isn't it obvious you already do? were these reminders for me, or wishes for you?"

( eyes flutter to words he can barely read on his bared parts, words overlapping due to frenzy. all true. all true )

with a tightening throat, emotions rising like waves and god he could just drown, matthew lays back on the mattress. meekly pulling the tie out from under him, only to drag it over his used wrists. picturing only her. wondering if this sight would entice her to keep going when she comes out. and he wants to say lilian, you've won! congratulations on having a lover for life! or, something like : yuri couldn't pry me from your cold dead fingers! but what stumbles out is something foolish that he immediately grimaces over. hopefully she's too shaken to judge him too much.

“i think you're my soulmate, lilian. i .. really do.” so why would i ever let you go? or deem you unworthy? it's me, im unworthy. not you, never never -- his lashes tickle his skin when he shuts his eyes. breath hitching before evening out. reminding himself to calm down because matthew thinks he'll actually explode otherwise. a bundle of nerves, of her love, is all he really is.

[tokyoghoose]

[ 2:45pm ]

The pair of you were supposed to go to lunch with a couple of friends, but Tamaki is sure you won't mind missing it. Besides, it's raining outside and you would've just been frustrated because your hair would frizz and your face would get wet— and you hate when you sweat, not to mention rain. He would hate the crowded restaurant almost as much as he hates going out and doing these things at all, but he tries to do them for you because he knows how much you love your friends. He's been there in their shoes, after all. He remembers how you'd cancel plans just to hang around his dorm and do pretty much nothing but talk and enjoy each other's company. It honestly amazed him that he even got that fad with you, much less in a relationship that had been going two years strong now. He wasn't ready to tell you anything, but he's sure he wants to marry you sometime in the future.

You hated the outfit you picked out, that's how you got in this late situation anyway. It looked better in your head and when you tried it on it only crushed your confidence. You felt gross in it, even if it's pieces you've worn before separately. Why did you buy any of it in the first place? It made you want to cry, you had already felt hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you clawed to get the fabric off. Time was running out and you didn't have another outfit to wear and you felt awful even with your hair done and looking fresh-faced. You didn't even want to go now because you'd just feel self-conscious the entire time.

You're thoughts usually get the better of you, Tamaki had noticed. Very quickly into the relationship, in fact. So when you stayed in the bathroom for a little too long, he knocks lightly on the door and leans his ear to it, straining to hear a reply.

"Y/n?"

Then he heard a sniffle, followed by a weak and quiet 'give me a sec.' He shuffles but only for a minute when he hears a frustrated cry from inside, and then he gently pushes the door open. You couldn't get the dumb fabric over yourself, and if it were any other situation he would've probably laughed. But you're crying with a red face, turning away from the door and mumbling a 'get out.'

Tamaki hesitated before placing his hands on your lifted shoulders, squeezing lightly so you would relax. "Lemme see it," is all he replies, encouraging you to smooth the clothing back out. You send him a glare, or at least attempt to with the situation you're in, the clothing pretty much blocking out most of your face. You sigh with reluctance when he gives another encouraging squeeze and a reassuring smile that it couldn't look that bad before maneuvering to put it back where it was on your body.

Hesitantly he eyes you up and down, nodding to himself. His eyes only make you shrink away and flush, crossing your arms over yourself like a shield but he's quick to react, placing his hands onto your arms to melt away the shyness. After two years of dating and knowing each other even longer, he was still just as careful with his actions and you were still worried about what he thought about you. Yet, when your arms fall back at your sides and he allows his fingers to just barely run along with your figure, the doubt slowly slips away and to the back of your head for another time and you pout.

"I don't like how it looks, Tamaki."

He meets your eyes, the same adoring look in his that he always held for you before nodding with a 'tsk'.

"I think you look amazing." It's quiet but kind.

You shrug him off but still go in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck to bury your face in the crook, muttering against his skin, "You have to say that, you're my boyfriend."

Tamaki placed a hand to your hair, hovering just over it to not mess up the style too much before shaking his head stiffly, "I don't have to say that. It's just the truth, love."

"Even so, I'm suddenly very...tired."

He knows it's code for: I don't want to go anymore. He hums lightly and pulls away, instead taking your hand to rub his thumb caringly over the side of your skin.

"Let's take a nap then."

———

So now here you two are, tangled up in bed and the lunch long past over as the time inches closer to three in the afternoon. The rain padding against the window makes for nice background noise as he stirs awake, shifting carefully when he notices you asleep on his chest when normally it'd be the other way around. Heat rises to his cheeks and he adverts his eyes per habit.

His hand finds your hair—now messed up from shifting about— and gently combs through it, twirling it around his finger and gently untangling the knots. It dawns on him that he's also isn't usually the one to wake up first. The realization makes his movements stutter. Seems like today was full of firsts.

None the less, Tamaki takes the rare chance to really take you in. With all the hero work, it was unlikely to see you so relaxed and at peace. In the back of his mind, he knows that at any given chance a villain could attack and it'd all go away, but he's here now— even if it takes him a minute to get out of his head.

His eyes start from your hairline down, memorizing each little bump and blemish and freckle as he had done so, so many times before in other circumstances. Your eyebrows aren't knitted like they usually are, even when you're just at home doing nothing—it's like you're always on high alert for anything and everything, from a bug to an apocalypse rising. He moves his hand, thumb barely gliding over the thin hairs before he makes a path to your eye. He loves the color or them, of course, but it's what you hold in them that never ceases to make him swoon. So many emotions can be flashed through them in a matter of seconds, and he decides then and there that is favorite is when you see him. How they crinkle up with a smile that reaches the corners, aware of the crow feet wrinkles you'll get when you get old and grey—wow, he cant wait to get old and grey with you— and how they shine a little bit brighter towards him compared to your other friends, but that could just be his imagination.

He moves to your nose, brushing the bridge over it smoothly. He likes the shape of it. He likes how well it matches the rest of your face, as silly as it sounds. He hums quietly when he brushes over the little bumps and ridges closer to the tip. You're breathing has slowed down immensely, feather-light and if it weren't for your chest rising and falling against him- one might think you're on the verge of passing over. It's peaceful, he decides, and he could listen to the steady breathing for hours if given the chance.

But you'll wake up any minute now, he can feel it. So, he makes haste with the rest of your face. Your cheeks that get red whenever he unintentionally makes a flirty comment to your jaw that's quick to tighten up until he reminds you to loosen up a bit because you look irritated. And finally, he settles on your lips, the pad of his thumb ghosting over them like they're a delicacy. In some ways they are.

Tamaki could go on and on about your lips if someone was just willing to listen. He'd waited years to be able to kiss them, imagining them on his. It made him feel bad at the time, thinking he shouldn't think that way about a friend. It really tortured him for a while. But now he gets to feel them whenever you feel like granting him the access and he feels them everywhere, reveling in the sensation they leave after every trail. They smile for him—which is nice—and they aren't tight-lipped either. It's a genuine smile, a toothy grin every time and it makes his heart jump out of his chest.

They say tender words that he doesn't dare to speak, somehow always knowing what to say to make everything better. They're soft in their wake, yet rough when need be. Truly versatile. He lets his thumb swipe gingerly at your bottom lip, bringing it down to pinch your chin between his pointer finger before eventually pulling away. Maybe he needed to wake up before you more often.

Then you stir, making him jump and look away again out of habit. Like it's a crime to admire you. You let out a breathy chuckle, turning to look up at him and planting a gentle hand on his chest, pushing up to place a kiss on his jaw to watch his face go red. It's quite the sight, you must admit. The fact that you were able to elicit such a reaction of him makes you prideful, insecurities banishing for the time being.

Tamaki looks down at you, only the tips of his ears flushed now but he still looks like an angel in the dim light of the bedroom. You take his hand it lace it with yours as a silent thank you for earlier before laying your head back down in its place.

You didn't have to exchange words. The moment was enough to say you were glad you hadn't gone out that day because staying in bed, at home with each other was just the better option. Every time. And silently Tamaki thinks maybe he could get used to this kind of love—this kind of home.

—————

playlist:

this is home - cavetown

eyes - ambar lucid

sweet moon - sundarta

my heart is buried in venice - ricky montgomery

you - bobbie !

darling - christian leave

how to love you today - son of cloud

id like to walk around in your mind - vashti bunyan

just the two of us - grover washington jr

if you want to - beabadoobee

announcements!

I feel like this is a little ooc for Tamaki but I really wanted to write some tooth-rotting fluff, ya know? 🥴 but anyway, feedback is appreciated and requests are open!

[ripspaghet]

bff | 05

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 4,702

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing, alcohol, mentions of smut, cheating

The very next day the weather finally starts to lighten up. The sun is out with not a cloud in sight, although the air is still chilled. You've become eager to get back to your classes. After having Jimin take care of you a full day, you feel you might murder him. He's been teasing you constantly, trying to feed you like you a helpless baby, and let's just say you didn't really appreciate it. Still, you thank him several times over, promising to make it up to him, which he's sure to take full advantage of.

"Party? This weekend?"

You sigh, kicking a rock as you walk along the corridor, leading to your next class, "Why does it always have to be a party with you? You never even hang out with me when we go. You ditch me for those two idiots of yours."

"As I recall when you first met one of those idiots you called him hot and said you'd-"

"Okay!" Your panicked tone reaches an all-time high, not wishing to recall your first impression of a particular frat boy.

Jimin laughs at you and stops walking just before reaching the lecture hall, "So, you'll go with me?"

"As if I have a choice."

"Great! Tae said he-"

"____? I heard you were really sick." Mina approaches the two of you, her boyfriend not too far behind her, his eyes already fixed on you. Great.

You watch as he comes up closer to Mina, placing his arm around her waist and pulling her into him as his gaze bleeds into yours, "Glad to know you're feeling better, ____." 

His cold voice makes you shift your eyes away immediately, your face turning a shade of red that's starting to become all too familiar.

"Yes, I made her all better. Didn't I, honey?" Jimin leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, which you respond to by pushing him away and slapping him on the chest.

"Don't put your lips anywhere near me."

He frowns and whines as you turn away from him, "Why? That's not what you told me to do yesterday."

"Are you drunk? Stop making stuff up and get to class." You don't bother turning around this time, heading into the lecture hall.

"Yah," You hear Mina slap Jimin, "what did you do to her?"

"Ah! S-stop hitting me! She's been like that since yesterday, it has nothing to do with me!"

The rest of the week carries on relatively fast, as you do nothing but study and go to your classes. Anytime Mina, Jimin, or anybody offers to hang out you decline. You haven't been in the mood and your reasoning was that same indecipherable feeling that still burned in your chest. Your nearest guess was that it had something to do with that damn piano Yoongi made you sit at, last Sunday. Bad memories resurfacing is enough to put anyone in this kind of mood, right? You can't even be bothered with the dozens of missed calls on your phone. You hadn't spoken to him in a year and you weren't about to break that record when simply seeing his name light up your phone filled you with dread.

"You're still coming?" Jimin raised an eyebrow at you, utterly surprised.

"I'm standing in front of you fully dressed and ready for a party and you're asking me if I'm bailing on you or not?"

"It's just, you haven't been in the brightest of moods this week. I thought, maybe you were having second thoughts."

You roll your eyes and push him out of the doorway so you can shut the door behind you and lock it. "Since when do you care if I have second thoughts about a party?"

"Since you don't seem okay," He whispers this time, a genuinely concerned expression dulling his features.

You put your arm around his and try to pull him along only to have him stop you, "I'm fine. Let's go have fun."

"Did someone break your heart, ____?"

You swivel your head back around, "What?"

"I don't know?" He scratched his head, "You seem so different lately. I mean you just said, 'Let's go have fun.' Normally, you hate being dragged to parties. You complain the whole time and ask me to take you home every five seconds."

You laugh and raise an eyebrow at the ridiculous assumption, "So, you think someone has broken my heart, simply because I'm taking your advice to have fun?"

"You-" He's cut off when your phone goes off. You pull it from your purse and quickly reject it.

"Telemarketers." You lie.

Looking at you seriously Jimin sighs, "I'm just worried. I don't want to take you to this party and you get super drunk and do something stupid cause you're sad." 

With a sigh and nod, you speak with an understanding ton, "I appreciate that you worry about me Minie, but I'm fine. I've just been stressed lately because of exams. I want to blow off some steam."

He looks at you hesitantly before nodding, not sure if he should believe you or not.

Jimin really is such a good friend. He genuinely cares so much, even for the smallest of things. But, despite what he thinks, this isn't your first time indulging in a party like this. Back when you were a freshman all you did was go to parties. Which is, for the most part, what made you hate them so much. You always did dumb things and alcohol didn't make your decision-making skills any better. You'd even started a pretty bad reputation for yourself, that you erased through the years of becoming a shut-in.

After arriving at the party Jimin led you to the drinks and the two of you had at least two full cups together before you decided you wanted to dance. The logical part of your brain was screaming to go home before doing something you'd regret, but that stinging feeling in your chest demanded it be fed and you didn't want to feel it anymore. You sure as hell didn't want to hear your anxiety ramping up because of it, so you drank just enough to null the noise.

You pull Jimin towards the dance floor, taking him by surprise, and making his drink sloshing in his cup, "Wait, I-"

"Since when does ____ dance?" A husky voice interrupts the two of you, making you turn your head, "Or know how to have fun for that matter?"

Tall, tanned, and handsome to the point of being downright beautiful, stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching you with an unreadable expression is Taehyung. You have to force your mouth shut to keep from gasping at the sight of him. Any other day, you'd duck your head and run at the sight of him - although, unfortunately for you - you've already consumed a hefty amount of alcohol.

"Whole new ____, right?" Jimin smiled, composing himself before patting your head and, to your surprise, making you jump.

"I'll say," Taehyung looks you up and down, "she's even dressed for the occasion."

"____, how about you go dancing with Taehyung? I promised Kookie I'd be his bodyguard tonight and I can't leave him hanging forever."

You glance up at Jimin then back at Taehyung. Again, under normal circumstances, you never in a million years would agree to dance with Taehyung, knowing damn well where it'd take you. You'd also be curious and confused as to why Jungkook would need a bodyguard, but - for like the billionth time - these weren't normal circumstances and all you did was nod.

"Just don't stay gone all night. You promised you wouldn't ditch me this time." 

Jimin laughs and pats your head endearingly again, "Sure thing, honey."

You reach up and pat Jimin on the cheek, returning the gesture by smiling brightly up at him. His eyes widen, not expecting you to return the teasing gesture, "Have fun, honey," 

"W-who are you?" Jimin's cheeks flush pink, but you only laugh before leaving him. You take Taehyung's arm in yours and he looks down at you with the same stunned expression, "Show me your best moves, Tae."

Excitement quickly replaces his awe and bubbling up in his eyes at this whole new side of you, "Yes, ma'am."

You pull him to the dance floor with you and once there you let your body do the talking as you move rhythmically to the best that vibrates through the house.

Taehyung just froze, his lips parting at the sight of you.

You're unable to contain a giggle at the sight of his dumbfounded expression, "What are you doing? Dance with me." You grab his hands and pull him to you, swaying your hips from side to side. 

Taehyung follows your instructions and begins moving with you, his hand moving to your hip as he leans in closer, "Since when are you not being a buzzkill?"

You pout your bottom lip at his use of words, "I'm not a buzzkill, I just haven't been in the mood up until now."

Taehyung laughs at your whiny response, his eyes falling on your lips, "You know? I never understood it before, but now it all makes sense."

"What does?"

"You and Jimin, I thought the two of you were complete opposites before and it didn't make any sense to me why he follows you around like a lost puppy." You move your hands up to his biceps and rest them on his shoulders. Your eyes urging him to continue, "The two of you are a lot more alike than I thought. You just bury it deep, while Jimin wears it on his sleeve."

You tilt your head, "And what exactly is it that I'm burying?"

"That thing that could get anyone into bed with you any time you want." He leans in, his deep voice sultry.

"Are you saying that only me and Jimin have that? You don't have it?"

"Well, obviously not. Otherwise, I would've had you in bed with me the day we met."

You shake your head and smirk at him. Might as well play along with him. "How do you know that it just doesn't work on me?"

"Tell me," He leaned in closer, "if Jimin were to seriously try fucking you - you wouldn't you be inclined to say yes?"

Your cheeks flush his use of words and the mere idea of them, but you laugh it off as the effects of alcohol starting to kick in, "Even if I were it would never be anything more than that, so I'd turn him down."

Taehyung pulls back, surprised, "Why?"

"Jimin is my best friend and like I said, sleeping with him would never be anything more than sleeping with him. I know that's the case for me, but I don't know if that's the case for Jimin. Whether he says it is or not, I couldn't trust what he says. If he felt differently, he would say whatever I wanted to hear, not the truth."

"Are you implying that he might fall for you? Because I think it's a bit too late for that." He chuckles and this time you roll your eyes.

"Me and Jimin find each other sexually attractive, but there's no romance. It's just friendship. People can easily mistake a great friendship for romance. I mean, even great sex can be misleading."

"So, what's the deal-breaker, huh? What is it that you and Jimin don't have?"

You stare at him for a moment, wondering to yourself why he's so interested in your relationship with Jimin before answering him, "There's no fire. No passion or pull between us."

His eyes flicker at your words, "You're not secretly in love with him and just pulling my leg, right?"

"What?" You burst into laughter, "Why is this so important to you?"

Taehyung's face stays serious as it flickers with something akin to lust, "____, when did you get so alluring? I thought you were an innocent virgin."

You try to bite back your laughter at his ridiculous statement and serious face. Surprisingly, he isn't all that good at flirting. His looks more than made up for what he's lacking though as his eyes have you leaning in closer. You put your lips next to his ear, your excuse being, so you wouldn't have to yell over the music, "I'm only alluring when I wanna allure someone, that doesn't make me a virgin."

"Really?" He put his other hand on the small of your back, "Does that mean you're trying to allure me right now?"

You frown, pulling away from him, "Trying?" 

His eyes turn dark at the loss of contact and he reaches to bring you back to him, but you only move further out of his reach, a smirk pulling up your lips, "If you want me, come and get me, Tae." 

He moves instantly, a smirk playing on his own lips as he follows you through the crowd of sweaty bodies until you're out of it and heading up the stairs of the frat house. You know exactly where you're leading him, but you weren't one to proudly admit you'd done this before. And if you were in your right mind right now you wouldn't be caught dead doing this again, especially with someone like Taehyung. Although, the closer your body gets to him the further the burning in your chest gets. It's fading into the background, just like you want.

You let him catch you at the top of the stairs and he wraps his arms around your waist, "What are you up to? Don't you know where these stairs lead?"

"I'm not sure. You wanna show me around?" You play dumb, preferring Taehyung not have any clue of your past endeavors.

He pushes you against the wall, hands roaming on your sides, "How drunk are you?"

"I've only had two or three drinks." Your breath catches in your throat when he lowers his mouth to your neck. Your hand moves to his hair and you close your eyes, savoring the way his teeth feel as they softly nip at you.

"So, you won't be mad if you wake up naked next to me in the morning?" 

You gasp as his tongue runs up the length of your neck, "I won't."

He hums softly in your ear before picking you up by your thighs, making it so you have to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to a nearby room and shuts the door behind him with his foot with - what appears to be - practiced ease. It doesn't bother you all too much though, seeing as you were only doing this to distract yourself, to begin with. You want all emotional baggage to be left at the door, or thrown out a window at this moment. You don't wanna think.

Taehyung drops you down onto the bed in the center of the room and you can't help but giggle as the force of the fall makes you bounce.

"Fuck," He smiles at you infectiously before lunging forward, his hands and lips devouring you, "you could easily make any man fall in love, ____."

A sharp throb stabs through your chest at his words, your smile falling as a distinct pair of dark eyes cross your mind. His hands move down your thighs and squeeze, pulling them apart to settle between them. Too lost in the remembrance of lingering stares and innocent touches, you don't even realize where your imagination has taken you as he presses his thigh against your core, coaxing a desperate moan out of you. Your eyes flutter shut as you let your arousal take over, pale fingertips run along your sides, his dark hair tickling your skin as he marks your neck, and his usual calm and gravelly voice growls as you mewl with desire.

"You sound so pretty." Just then his lips press to yours, his tongue running along your lower lip. 

Yoongi.

"Stop!" You push Taehyung off of you, panicked and breathless.

"What? What's wrong?" Taehyung sits up at the end of the bed on his knees, confused by the sudden rejection.

"I-I'm really sorry about this, but I need to go." You scramble off of the bed, fixing your clothes and hair.

Taehyung's quick to get up and follow after you, "Did I do something?"

"No, I-" You squeeze your eye's shut and shake your head in disbelief. Sure, you've fantasized about people before but never against your own will, let alone about your best friend's fucking boyfriend. "I'm not in the right head-space right now. I-" You pause glancing back at Taehyung, "You didn't do anything wrong."

He places his hand on your waist, "____, don't go. We don't have to do anything. We can just cuddle?"

"I need to go."

"What happened to you last night?! Why are people telling me they saw you going upstairs with Taehyung?! I never saw you for the rest of the night!" You wince pulling your phone away from your ear.

"I know, I'm sorry, okay? Could you stop yelling at me and let me explain?"

"Since when do you wanna fuck Taehyung?! I thought you hated him!"

"Jimin,"

"Alright, fine, let me hear your excuse."

"Last night I just wanted to have fun. It was nothing serious and I don't hate Taehyung. I just don't particularly like him or how he normally treats the girls he messes around with."

"Wha- You just wanted to have fun? Nothing serious? Where is the real ____ and what have you done with her?!" 

You roll your eyes, "I didn't even sleep with him. I walked out before things got that far."

"You walked out?" Jimin pauses, "Wait, why? What did he do?"

"He didn't do anything. I just-" Your eyes shift around your room nervously, "I wasn't as up for it as I thought I was."

He clicks his tongue, "____, the player. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Are we done now? I need to go."

"Go? It's Saturday. Where are you going? Oh, don't tell me you're going to finish the job!?"

"Goodbye, Jimin."

"No! Wait-"

You stand up from your bed after ending the call than walk over to your closet to sift through your clothes. You spend about thirty minutes doing that before groaning in frustration. What are you even doing? Normally, you'd just throw on the first thing you saw and head out the door.

You know what?

That is what you're doing.

You close your eyes and reach into your closet, grabbing the first thing you touch. This is fine, you tell yourself before shrugging off your pajamas and putting on the baggy hoodie with a pair of sweats. You then make your way back to your bed and grab your phone, you're heading to your door when you stop. You pull your hoodie up to your nose, smell it, and sigh before turning back around. It doesn't stink, in fact, it smells good, like freshly done laundry - but something about it annoys you and you refuse to leave with the boring smell.

Once you're finally satisfied you hurry out of your dorm and start in the direction of Yoongi's penthouse. So many factors are yelling at you to turn around and go back home, but you refuse to listen. Your pace even picks up as the tall building comes into view. 

Message from Min Yoongi-8:59am: Why are you so late??

You-9:05am: I'm here

You step out of the elevator, your nerves getting the better of you as you hesitate to knock on the door. You really shouldn't be here. You should be anywhere but here. As you're contemplating just turning around and leaving, the door swings open to reveal a very irritated Yoongi.

His hair is neatly combed through and shorter than when you last saw him, although it still hangs just slightly above his eyes.

"Why the hell are you so late?" His words are blunt, as usual, but that's not what makes you avoid his gaze. It's the images that pop into your head from last night that make you stare at your own two feet in petrifying embarrassment, thinking, maybe he can read your mind if you look at him.

"Sorry, I don't really have an excuse." Your voice comes out small, making it so Yoongi has to lean in to understand you.

He furrows his brow and sniffs the air as he does, then raises an eyebrow at you, "Is that perfume?"

Your eyes dart up to his face and you blink at him several times, "What?"

A smirk pulls up his lips, "Are you wearing perfume?"

"No! Why would I be wearing perfume?" You panic, confused as to how to respond to this.

"I don't know, you tell me?" He leans against his door frame and crosses his arms over his chest smugly. You can't help but let your gaze linger, finding everything he does far too attractive for someone who's supposed to be his girlfriend's best friend. 

You shift your eyes away from him shamefully with a frown and push past him, feeling your cheeks warm-up, "Can we just work on the song now that I'm here?"

Yoongi hums and turns around to face you, shutting the door as he does, "It smells nice. What is it? Vanilla?"

"J-just shut up." You walk away from him towards his couch to sit down before pulling out your laptop. 

"You know?" Yoongi startles you as he leans onto the back of the couch behind you, "You still haven't listened to that part on the piano I've been slaving away on." He speaks in that same condescending tone he used over the phone when you were sick, only this time it doesn't make your blood boil, it makes your stomach turn.

"I never said I wanted you to do that."

"You also never said you didn't, so I did." You feel Yoongi tapping his finger against the couch impatiently, a clear sign he's starting to get annoyed with you.

"Well, go play it." You bark back in a whiny manner, wanting the subject to just go away, "I'll hear it from here."

No, you wouldn't, you planned on covering your ears.

"____," Yoongi says your name firmly and your whole body goes rigid. Your imagination is running off with you again. Of all times, seriously? "stop acting childish. I need you to sing the part while I play, to get a good feel of how it will sound."

You shake your head, actual panic setting in as you finally stand back up, turning to face him, "No, I don't want the piano in the song."

"Why are you just now saying this? I've been working on this all week."

"I-I-" You frantically scour your brain for an alibi, "I just don't wanna!" You cringe at the stupid excuse and watch nervously as Yoongi narrows his eyes at you.

"Are you six years old? Come on," He starts to walk towards the hallway.

"I don't like the piano! Okay?! Can't you just leave it be!" You scream, the sheer terror you felt finally emerging in your voice and shocking Yoongi to a halt. Tears began streaming down your face rapidly. You probably looked ridiculous, crying over a damn piano, an object that couldn't even physically harm you, but you're unable to control your tears.

"____,"

You drop your laptop onto the couch and without saying a word you rush back around the couch and past Yoongi, heading for the door. Hoping he won't follow, you slam the door behind you just to hear it open again a second later. 

"____, stop!" You push the elevator button several times, urgently praying that it gets there soon while you try your best to quell your inner trauma, "We don't have to include the piano. I can find something else."  You stare blankly at the elevator doors, "Hey," He reaches for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. 

You jerk your arm away and when you speak it's barely above a whisper, "Just leave me alone."

He watches you for a moment before hesitantly bringing his hand up to your face, turning you to look at him. You let him wipe your tears before pushing his hand away, "Fine, I'll take the stairs."

He stops you, grabbing your wrist, "Are you seriously angry over a fucking piano? What's next? A harmonica?"

You let out a dry laugh, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Alright," You yank your wrist away from him, "I'm done with this. Don't expect me to show up here anymore." You head ticks to the side before you turn on your heels to take the stairs, "I'd rather fail."

"Yah, ____!" You ignore him, but you can hear him following you just before his hand grabs yours, stopping you in your tracks again, "You-"

Your phone cuts him off, ringing loudly, and filling the thick air around the two of you. You pull your hand out of his, ignoring the way it makes your skin tingle. You reach into your pocket for your phone and reject the call, knowing exactly who it is without looking at the caller ID.

"Who was that?" Yoongi leans toward you, trying to get a peek at your phone, but you push him away by his chest.

"It's none of your business." 

He doesn't respond, his hard eyes just glancing down at the hand that's now against his chest. When Yoongi gets close to you - you can't think properly, so the further the better, but when he lifts his eyes back to yours, you realize that the physical contact is much worse than the lack of space. 

Your face blossoms with color and you quickly try to yank your hand away, recalling where your mind took you last night. Yoongi is quicker though as his fingers wrap around your wrist. You hold your breath, praying that he can't hear how loudly your heart is beating as his eyes bore into yours. All you can do is stare back, unable to move, say, or do anything. It's like he's a magnet and you're metal.

He moves in closer until you can feel his minty breath against your lips and you inhale sharply when his long fingers gently graze against your forearm. Unconsciously, your hand fist his shirt, your eye's still refusing to leave his intense ones as he begins to close the space between you, "Do you want me to stop?"

Your other hand moves up to his shoulder, gripping tightly as if willing yourself to push him away, but it's as if all your strength has left your body and you can't. His hand moves up to your jaw, his thump caressing your flushed skin, and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. It's nothing like you'd imagined, completely different. He's way more intoxicating.

"If you want me to stop, all you have to do it say so." When his lips move you can almost feel them brush against yours from the close proximity - the space between you disappearing as his lips meet yours and any ounce of logical thought leaves you. You helplessly lean into his warmth and he hums in response. Heat pools in your stomach at the sound and your fingers move through his hair, nails softly grazing against his scalp. It's like the part of you that knows how wrong this is has evaporated. It isn't until his tongue swipes against your bottom lip that you feel yourself fall back to reality.

You pull away from him like you've been burned, noticing the tears brimming in your eyes only after the fact. The longer you look up at Yoongi the more hysterical you become. 

"I-" He stops, his eyes falling on your neck, "Where did those come from?"

"I-I need to leave." You push past him just as the elevator doors open, ignoring the simmering rage you caught in his voice as it made you feel like someone had just tugged on your heart.

"____-"

"You have a girlfriend, Yoongi!" Your second outburst of the day causes him to flinch and pull his hand away from your arm, "I'm leaving."

You want to throw up, bang your head against a wall, and reprimand yourself on how utterly stupid you are all at once. All you really do wis click the button for the first floor though, while avoiding looking back up at Yoongi.

"I'm sorry."

That's the last thing you hear before the doors close and the elevator begins carrying you down.

.

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a/n: plz go easy on me this is my first time attempting any form of smut and i had to rewrite it several times cause it made me a lil nervous 😖👉👈

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch  @jeonchan26

[black-streak]

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - Curious New Hobbies

Part 11!

My god this took a while to write! Special thanks to @st0rmy-w1th1n and @mysnis (hope this is your correct Tumblr) for bouncing ideas with me and @kceedraws for giving permission to use her breakdancing au as inspiration for this!

Tagsss: @persephonebutkore @emjrabbitwolf @mystery-5-5 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @fandomkitty8 @dast218 @silvergold-swirl @shizukiryuu . @my-name-is-michell @kurogaya913 @elspethshadow @thecatnipmademedoit @shamefullove @ladylucina28 @crazylittlemunchkin @rayray384 @cassiejaydee @yuulxd @ladysblackcat @naclychilli @caffeinetheory

~---~

They had meant to go the arcade for their date tonight. In fact, they'd even walked in and started scoping out games to play, but alas it wasn't to be.

Within moments of arriving, who else but Damian would single Mari out and immediately tell them to leave.

And of course she protested. In response, Damian only pointed at Jon over at the pacman machine (how dare he, that's the game Marinette was searching for!) and mentioned his lack of ability to keep secrets and suddenly she turned and dragged Tim right back out the door.

Walking down the sidewalk, he side eyed her, considering the best way to start his interrogation.

"So. You trying to keep me secret then?"

"No! Of course not. Just might've forgotten to mention something like… over a month ago."

"And it involves not letting Jon know we were there?"

"Only because he's a nark who would've ruined the fun. And heaven knows Damian and I wouldn't be satisfied with a void bet."

"You made a bet about our relationship with Damian?"

"About your family," she partially corrected.

"Do I even want to know."

"Was supposed to tell you a bit ago so you wouldn't ruin the stakes, so probably not, but im telling you anyways."

Sighing with false exasperation, he gestured for her to continue.

"We have an ongoing bet over how long it'll take everyone to figure out that you and I are together and not Dami and me."

With that, she relayed all the details of their bet and his part in it, manic grin spread across her face as her gait gained a small skip to it. Tim couldn't help but shake his head at her antics, amused despite an itch in the back of his mind saying this wouldn't end well.

"Alright, I'll play along. Honestly, I think you'll both lose. Your predictions are too specific. Too many potential outlying factors."

"True, but we did give set time frames. So at least one part of the bet will absolutely be clear on who won. Plus, I find victory in the fact that Damian didn't think of that possibility. That we'd both be wrong."

"On another note, we need to find a plan b. Anything in mind?" He asked, reaching out and snagging her hand to draw her closer. 

Shrugging, she looked about them, seeing if anything caught the eye. Suddenly Tim stopped, accidentally yanking her back when she kept walking. She let out a sound of protest only to see his eyes locked on the building across the way with a considering look. 

The building was gray brick with no windows, however a neon purple sign to the right of the black wood door declared it "The Underground", a well known club amongst Gotham dancers and while neither were necessarily that, word had gotten around enough for both to have heard of the place before from word of mouth.

"How do you feel about checking it out?" Tim asked, a curious look about his eyes, studying her.

"I'm not opposed to the idea. Little surprised you're interested though," she commented, letting him lead the way inside.

A quick ID check and they were in, the room dark with neon tube lights flashing across different surfaces and strategic spotlights placed to bring attention to the various raised platforms. It was strange actually. The wall directly to the left of the hall they entered from held the bar on a raised level only to slide into a ground level dance floor which was normal enough, however in the opposite corner was a raised platform where different people would hop up to take advantage of the spacing to show off both freestyle and blatantly choreographed moves. Another few spotlight platforms raised up randomly in the floor, but the main focus was a rather large circular one in the center of the place, raised just enough to make it easy to see from anywhere in the place, but not so high as to block the view across the way. These places were the most lit up, allowing the anonymity to the dancers below while allotting the attention to those who choose to step up. Beyond that, there were many crevices and alcoves holding tables into the walls and a small hallway across the way presumably heading to the bathrooms. An upper balcony held only the DJ.

While Mari took in her surroundings, she felt Tim lead her out into the crowds, before turning back to her with a questioning look. Leaning in she spoke into his ear, a spark gleaning her eyes, "You've been before, haven't you?"

"A few times. It's the perfect place to destress without the nonsense of keeping an image. As long as you stay in the crowd, no one cares who you are," he replied, spinning her around before stepping in so her back pressed to his chest.  His hands ghosted down her sides to grasp her hips, starting to guide her into the beat.

For a while, they stayed like that, separating slightly and coming back together to follow different dances as the music flowed and changed around them. Turns out Tim was a surprisingly good dancer. 

Cheers broke out as a new song turned over, the first beats of Bum Bum Tam Tam coming over the speakers drawing attention towards the main platform as a pair jumped up, starting to get into the beat, working around each other only to burst into perfectly synced choreography at the first breakdown, resulting in more cheers. The two dancers would break away after that into a more freestyle, only to flow back into more rehearsed moves once more.

"Wait is that," she trailed off to a groan pressed to her shoulder.

"Yeah. That's them. Didn't know they came here."

As the song came to an end and the two on the platform jumped down, they could only stare as none other than Dick and Kori unknowingly made their way towards them. Tim pulled back from Mari subconsciously, not quite comfortable being so fully on display in front of people who actually knew them. Which made exactly zero sense when considering how much they cuddled in the manor. 

Finally the two spotted them, their grins widening and a new energy emerging as they rushed over. 

"Timothy! Starshine! You guys are here!" Came Kori's exuberant greeting, grabbing them both up in a hug.

"Hey, Mar, Damian not like dancing enough? Had to drag Timmy out?" Dick teased.

"Dami's at the arcade with Jon. And actually, coming here was Tim's idea," she answered amicably, conforming to the rules of the bet and not correcting Dick's obvious assumptions. "That was amazing by the way. You two looked great up there!"

Tim smirked down at her, seeing through her antics, especially now that she'd let him in on the rules of her game. Doesn't mean he couldn't play into it himself, he thought as he wrapped an arm around her waist and placed his chin atop her head.

"She's a great dance partner," Tim mentioned after both Kori and Dick had thanked and waved off Mari's compliments. "Considering learning something more structured with her, myself. Maybe give you two a run for your money."

"You definitely should! I can help with figuring out a style for you two if you'd like!" Kori offered immediately as Marinette turned to look at him in excitement.

"She has to agree first. Who knows, maybe this was a fluke and Mari will never dance with me again," he sighed in defeat.

Marinette turned, practically bouncing in anticipation, "Are you kidding? I'd love to! I want to come here again too."

"Even if you don't take my help with the dancing, I can record you two so you can look back and see for any needed improvements? That's what Richard and I do," Kori further offered up, Dick jumping back in right after.

"Oh yeah, it helps immensely. Especially if you were wanting to perform it on the platforms here."

Tim and Mari met eyes, before coming to an agreement, "Yeah, we'd appreciate that actually."

"Great! We'll set up some time here soon. In the meantime, I could definitely use a drink," Dick stated, looking back towards where he'd originally been headed. Kori grabbed onto Marinette instead, leading her back into the fray of dancers.

"We should invite Stephanie next. She would make a most interesting dance partner," Kori rattled on, suggesting a girls night that Mari agreed to immediately before getting back into the music with her new dance partner of the moment, Tim and Dick rejoining them shortly after. 

The night continued on this way, the four trading off between them, two not aware that it'd become a double date by this point. Eventually parting ways from the two, Tim and Mari made their way back towards his apartment, breathless and happy despite the unexpected interruptions to their night.

"How come we never end up at your place?" He asked suddenly.

"Because my apartment has become workzone number 2. Seriously, the place has essentially become a studio for my work that just so happens to have a kitchen and bedroom. Among other secrets not meant to be divulged… yet."

"Is that pertaining to the mystery of your magic."

"Perhaps."

"Mmm, whenever you're ready, I'll be happy to keep them for you. Though I can't imagine anything bigger than holding two technical gods in your pockets at all times."

"Shhh, don't let them hear you say that!"

He only chuckled, leading her into the complex and up to his penthouse. Silence overtaking them until the door had clicked shut.

"You staying the night, sweetheart?" Tim asked, toeing off his shoes and walking towards his room to get changed.

"Mm, think I might," she replied, following him in and stealing a shirt before wandering into the bathroom to get first dibs on a shower. She still found it lucky that while he might be the shortest of his brothers, she was still small enough to be buried in his clothes. Made it easier for night like these.

Finishing up, she plopped herself on his bad as he went to shower as well. 

Eventually, the door reopened, Tim entering in only pajama bottoms, hair still damp and in his face. She hummed her appreciation, enjoying the view and reaching out to tug him closer.

"Is it weird how comfortable we've become in so little time?" 

"Only if you're uncomfortable with it."

"I'm not."

"Good."

With the affirmation, he picked her up only to lay her out further up the bed. Stretching out at her side, he pressed kisses to her cheek and down her neck, hand trailing against exposed skin, clearly enjoying having her in his home, in his bed, in his shirt.

'Hmm, what were two raging insomniacs to do with the rest of their night?'

… 

Bonus:

Not a week later, after a long discussion with Damian to ensure that Kori was not included in the bet and swearing the alien to secrecy, they asked her to film something for them. A dance they had come with that was just for them. Not anything that could be performed in a club or for anyone to see. Maybe one day they'd post it somewhere or show Dick, but for now, it was theirs alone.

[punkscowardschampions]

Janis & Jimmy

Janis: hey Janis: I hope you're alright, like Janis: I am and Janis: yeah Jimmy: 👍 Janis: sorry about that Janis: just Janis: family shit Jimmy: Alright Janis: it's not Jimmy: if any dickhead gets that, it's me Janis: yeah Janis: but Janis: I said I'd try Jimmy: we've both said shit Janis: I meant it though Jimmy: that'll be why you're here now then Janis: trying don't mean I'll always get it right Janis: and will you let me in when I am or Jimmy: you know where the spare 🔑 is Jimmy: and I meant when I said I weren't kicking you out Janis: would it help if I explain or don't it matter Jimmy: would it? Janis: I don't know Janis: maybe Janis: so you know it weren't nothing to do with you or Jimmy: would it help you? Janis: I care about you Jimmy: I care about you Jimmy: stalemate that Janis: It's hard Janis: but this is probably easier than in person Janis: for you too, it's Jimmy: I'll put the kettle on then Janis: you'll wanna Janis: just careful you don't scald yourself with any spittakes Jimmy: I'm not at work and Ian's not gonna comp me Jimmy: 💔🎻😭💸 Janis: no flat whites for him Janis: really like this story and all so jokes on you, sir Jimmy: all black everything for him Jimmy: that's the dress code when you're mourning not being 24 still or at whatever point his #heyday began and ended Janis: definitely several jokes to be made there but I'm not really black enough and you look good so Jimmy: there's been enough #bants Jimmy: it's obvs a mancave for lads lads lads the second you leave Janis: gutted, truly Jimmy: #relatable Janis: ugh Janis: right Janis: what have you heard about my sister, Rio Jimmy: she's fit Janis: is that it? Jimmy: yeah why? Jimmy: like I've heard she's a porn star but I didn't feel the need to do a search Janis: just so I know where to start Janis: so that's her, right Janis: but on top of that she Janis: it'll sound like a joke but it ain't so go with it Janis: married our cousin when she was like 18 Jimmy: hang on, your cousin or your mum's friend's kid who you call your auntie but ain't owt to do with you actually Janis: actual cousin Janis: as in they have the same fucking grandparents Jimmy: how did that come about? Janis: good question Janis: this family is fucked Janis: it's not like they didn't know each other growing up or anything, like they didn't know each other from any fucker Janis: it's Jimmy: I get that, the fucked families bit Janis: yeah Janis: well, that was 5 years ago and they did it basically in secret 'cos yeah, they would've been stopped Janis: hopefully Janis: but now they're deciding they need to renew it and force us all to come Janis: and grace just dropped that in a DM like that was something I knew or would be chill with Jimmy: bit rude Jimmy: all round Janis: you're telling me Janis: she didn't know I didn't know apparently but still Janis: it's just so Jimmy: you're not gonna go and play happy families Jimmy: why would you Janis: exactly Janis: but they all will Janis: they always do Janis: they've got kids and that's a whole other tale too Jimmy: together? Janis: one, she has one that ain't his too Janis: surprisingly normal looking Jimmy: is it? Janis: [sends Grace's insta] Janis: boys theirs Jimmy: he don't look like a 🐙 or owt Jimmy: your sister must be fit Jimmy: rumour mill got one 🏆 Janis: they're both obsessed with themselves Janis: still think we could've diluted the DNA tbh Jimmy: 😂 Janis: alright, you can laugh Jimmy: sorry Janis: would if it weren't my family Janis: try to anyway Jimmy: she cheated on him and they're still doing another 💍👰? Janis: that's the other story Janis: she was meant to surrogate for my brother Junior Janis: who you'll have heard fuck all about 'cos he keeps to himself and everyone forgets he exists Janis: but then she didn't wanna give it up and it was stupid anyway 'cos he was fresh into uni and dating a lecturer like that situation needs a child Janis: and her life's such a roaring success she should be giving a hand Jimmy: what? Janis: I'll give you a sec Janis: it's literally the most blatant and stupid way she's wrecked a life, like Jimmy: 💔 Mia ain't told me 'cause I thought we had something 💕 Jimmy: but it's alright, I'll live Janis: who knows what Grace told her Janis: that one might actually be family only 'cos as I said, no one gives a fuck about him Janis: he stays well away now, sensible Jimmy: fucking hell, mate Janis: just the local freakshow Janis: it's neverending, the amount of shit there is like that Jimmy: I'll keep it 🤐 about Ian from now on like Jimmy: you can have 🥇 Janis: nah Janis: not a competition Jimmy: is a bit Jimmy: just 🤏 though Janis: well I don't want him feeling left out Janis: still a 🏆 for being an outright twat Jimmy: he ain't 💀💀💀 yet Jimmy: still time to #flex Janis: him and shaz can make it down the aisle 'fore them Jimmy: she ain't been back 🎻🎻 Jimmy: can't keep a mum me Janis: letdown Janis: really wanna be a bridesmaid but can't on principle Jimmy: no 😭😭😭 in my kitchen Jimmy: we're all 💔 Janis: stay strong, boy Jimmy: alright fine I'll bring my proposal forward so we can get 💍 before them Jimmy: stop begging Janis: it'd be worth pissing off the pope to piss them off harder Jimmy: 💕 taking that as a yeah Janis: go on then Jimmy: 😍😍😍 Jimmy: brb stealing my dad's 💳 to buy a 💎 Janis: 😂 Jimmy: gold or silver? Janis: it's called white gold, so silver but make it expensive #weirdflex Jimmy: #goalsforever Janis: put that in the vows Jimmy: obvs Jimmy: I'm writing them rn Janis: Thanks Janis: for making me feel better Janis: 🤏 Jimmy: if I can't do that then you'd have nowt to come back for Jimmy: have to hang up my boyfriend 😎 Jimmy: put on my 💔 ones Janis: I wasn't leaving you Jimmy: for now Janis: I won't Jimmy: don't promise owt to me, you've been warned, girl Janis: it's a threat Jimmy: hot Jimmy: alright then Janis: I mean it Jimmy: you don't scare me Jimmy: 😘 me or 💀💀💀 me ain't that the phrase Janis: you can't die right now Jimmy: might do Jimmy: you're really beautiful Janis: you don't know Janis: I'm a state Jimmy: bollocks Jimmy: that's fake news Janis: shh Jimmy: Alright Grace, put your sister back on Jimmy: 🙄 Janis: it's a good thing you can't see her too tbf Janis: not practical having to hide from you for life when you marry in Jimmy: wait, you're with her? Jimmy: I'll hide the body but bit of warning, babe Janis: ha Janis: yeah Janis: IOU on the rescue she wanted to cash Jimmy: if Mia's there an' all & you don't say hey from me I'll be fuming Janis: she's definitely not Jimmy: have you checked the boot? 👀🍿🔪 Jimmy: folds up like paper, her Janis: wouldn't pit it past her Janis: I'll dry my eyes and get on it Jimmy: 👍 Jimmy: tell Grace she ain't having a tea unless she's 💰💰 Janis: She's taking my spare bed at nans Janis: musical faves atm Jimmy: I won't go throw shit at her window tonight then Jimmy: tah for the head's up Jimmy: soon my dear 💕👵 Janis: subtle Janis: find somewhere else to kip, it's alright, like Jimmy: no Janis: 💕 Jimmy: I mean it, don't Janis: okay Janis: if you'll have me Jimmy: I want you Janis: I love you Jimmy: do you? Janis: I said it like Jimmy: yeah but Janis: you can pretend I didn't Jimmy: we don't do that it's like the only rule Janis: if you need a free pass then take it Jimmy: I'm not saying I do Jimmy: just Jimmy: It's nowt I ain't heard before and Jimmy: for what? Janis: what do you mean? Jimmy: she said it and she still went Jimmy: my mum Janis: it's okay, it doesn't have to mean anything Janis: I already didn't promise you, yeah Jimmy: it's not Janis: no Janis: it's not Janis: but Janis: I don't know Jimmy: why couldn't she just Jimmy: why did he have to be so Jimmy: fuck's sake Janis: it's bullshit Janis: and it's unfair Jimmy: you know that I Jimmy: so important you Jimmy: Alright? Janis: I know Janis: it's all good Janis: isn't it Jimmy: Yeah Janis: I'm sorry everythings shit Jimmy: not everything is Jimmy: you're Jimmy: 🥇 Janis: I like you too Janis: you're about all I do like Janis: no pressure Jimmy: is that what you wanted it to mean? Jimmy: when you said Janis: I meant Janis: that I give a shit about you and I think you're funny and nice and fit and I wanna be around you Janis: and I don't wanna fuck you over Jimmy: then I love you too Janis: yeah? Jimmy: I said what I said Janis: allright Janis: I'll come in then Jimmy: were you waiting for me to say it before you got off the doorstep or what? Janis: not exactly Jimmy: [is at the door like oh hey] Janis: [the most dramatic hug flinging yourself at him like it's been 84 years 'cos lowkey] Jimmy: [we're never letting go bitch thank god its april and not the dead of winter] Janis: [you need all the moments so deal] Jimmy: [has he ever held onto anyone this tightly, no he has not] Janis: [the casual state she is godbless] Jimmy: [when you still look more beautiful than anyone ever probably] Janis: [rude] Jimmy: [this is why Grace hates you girl but pop off] Janis: [when you say it out loud but really quiet] Jimmy: [just really snuggling into her like we're not all dying okay bye] Janis: [just saying how she's gonna stay and how scary it was and not making a whole load of sense 'cos didn't even get to that bit honey] Jimmy: [all the comforting touches ever because now isn't the moment to be like um what but we'll get to it] Janis: [too much to try and be reasonable and logical rn 'is everyone asleep?'] Jimmy: [nodding because you can't trust yourself to speak rn because if you start what are you even gonna say like] Janis: [just like yes good 'cos we don't need to be starting any more scenes do we 'this was not how I planned any of this going'] Jimmy: [especially not with Ian cos at least cali wouldn't give you a slap 'bit shit at plans, us'] Janis: [nods and does a little lol like 'understatement'] Jimmy: [just sitting on the step so you can 🚬 cos so needed but pulling her into your lap cos you don't wanna let go still] Janis: [could be worse, could be meth] Jimmy: [true facts] Janis: [now everyone calm] Jimmy: [take all the moments you can to be soft] Janis: [just got no business being this close and smoking but at least you both are so it's fine] Jimmy: [I'd die literally] Janis: [my poor boo can't speak 'cos she can't breathe] Jimmy: [don't like set anything on fire either tbh] Janis: [lmao not a mood] Jimmy: [that'd be next level drama] Janis: [winnie drama] Jimmy: [that silly old bear] Janis: ['is my tea going cold?'] Jimmy: [lols because he's obvs not made it yet because #distracted we've all been there boy just put the kettle on and get no further like] Jimmy: [but puts his hand out like help me up so they can go inside] Janis: [does but pulls him towards her first and is just looking like !!?! all the emotions] Jimmy: [says 'what' in the softest way literally ever] Janis: [just gonna kiss him but so soft 'cos you're unsure but also don't know where to begin with anything] Jimmy: [all the soft kisses and comfort ever because he's never seen her like this before so he's like must not say or do the wrong thing] Janis: [have a brew lads] Jimmy: [fixes everything so actually go and make it boy give her chance to work out how she's gonna do this like] Janis: [makes me lol but also sad like there's so much you gotta explain before you can get to the now] Jimmy: [literally like no wonder Grace don't wanna see a therapist how exhausting] Janis: when did your mum go Jimmy: does it matter? Jimmy: she's not gonna show up here tonight Jimmy: you're alright Janis: obviously Janis: just thinking Jimmy: what? Jimmy: we've got enough milk to see us through if that's what she went for Janis: doesn't matter Jimmy: go on Janis: if it was about the same time Janis: as my sister Janis: Bobby is 6, yeah Jimmy: She didn't leave him in the hospital or owt like that Jimmy: let him get to nursery age, like Janis: that's something Jimmy: might've been better Jimmy: wouldn't remember her then Janis: does he Janis: remember, like Jimmy: a bit Janis: yeah Janis: Grace said he asked if she had a mum Janis: at the fair Jimmy: he's always doing that Jimmy: tries to go home with kids if he likes the look of theirs an' all Janis: fair Jimmy: 💔 I can't get away with it, me Janis: you probably could Janis: some of them have very unsatisfying marriages, babe Jimmy: just trying to get a tea I don't have to cook myself, babe Jimmy: but tah Janis: don't get nothing in this life for free Janis: soz Jimmy: alright, rich girl Janis: shut up Jimmy: 🤐 Janis: you're taking forever Janis: am I getting a biscuit too, like Jimmy: ruin the surprise Janis: I can pretend Jimmy: you're not that good of an actress Janis: rude Jimmy: only if that's your back up career Jimmy: and you'd have to get well fed up of the modelling first Jimmy: unlikely love the 📷 you Janis: now I'm an attention seeker Janis: charming Janis: and the 📷 loves me, tah Jimmy: nah just a 🥇 muse Jimmy: so supportive of my talents you Janis: you are good Janis: no lie Jimmy: [brings in the tea and a mug cake he has made for her to be comforting cos cute nerd] Janis: [what a sweet boy] Jimmy: [when that's about the extent of your cooking ability bless him] Janis: ['you're so-' does 🙏 hands to show 😇] Jimmy: [😏] Janis: [she sits she sips] Jimmy: [likewise just drinking that tea] Janis: [just shrugging 'cos gotta be blase like this is so casual and matter of fact okay 'my sister did run away, like, but then she had a car crash so, dead now'] Jimmy: [just looking at her like ???!! cos what can you even say 'shit, sorry' so awks] Janis: ['was four years ago so it's whatever'] Jimmy: ['did she leave 'cause of all that bollocks with your sister and cousin?'] Janis: ['partially but Janis: 'partially but-' sighs 'she was fucked up because she weren't my dads, third kid in and white, not an easy time'] Jimmy: [just looking at her cos even if you have heard that rumour you'd have thought it was too ridiculous to be true] Janis: [nods like yeah, I know] Jimmy: ['I get why you don't wanna be here, it were like that for us before we moved an' all' a shrug too because obvs also so casual for you] Janis: ['people must've had a field day' sympathetic look 'probably why I said yeah, to the plan, why I give a shit what people say still' shakes her head 'stupid but'] Jimmy: [when you're just having a moment remembering what it was like and you have to shake yourself out of it cos not about you rn 'people are twats, no dickhead but Ian's loving that kind of attention' gives her a look like you're not stupid] Janis: [giving him a nudge like sorry but not wanting to say it 'cos what use is it] Jimmy: [giving her one back as a shameless excuse to then just lean into her shoulder with his for an age like it's not a hug it's so casual bye] Janis: [leaning into it too, which is good 'cos voice is strained now 'cos emotions 'but she thought it was fucked up too, what they're doing, what they all do, she got it, you know'] Jimmy: [nodding cos he agrees that it is fucked up and is also having many emotions but eye contact anyway because wants her to know he gets it and is not going anywhere even though he doesn't know what to do or say about any of this really] Janis: [maintaining even though you'd be trying really hard not to cry for a hot sec there before being so meh it's chill again 'cos easier lbr 'know this is a lot but otherwise you'll just think I'm even weirder, yeah'] Jimmy: [touching her hair for literally no reason like is it even in the way, probably not 'everyone's got something that makes them weird, but you're alright an' all, got loads more shit going for you that counts towards that'] Janis: ['I don't wanna mess this up' and then going in on a kiss 'cos that'll fix this] Jimmy: [letting it happen even though you probably shouldn't because you just wanna make her feel better and also don't want her to think you think she's weird/you don't want her anymore when you obvs love her] Janis: [will stop at a kiss 'cos it'd be clear he weren't into it like per and we don't need that to be a thing for either of you] Jimmy: ['I ain't gonna let you mess this up if you don't let me either' holds his hand out like shake on it with me cos nerd] Janis: [is like 😏 really? but does] Jimmy: [then draws a heart on her with his fingertip like he did at Cali's but on her palm this time after the handshake] Janis: ['you really are the biggest nerd though' but 😍] Jimmy: ['piss off' but a little genuine smile] Janis: ['still like you anyway'] Jimmy: [😏 a look like yeah? and a IRL 👍 because committed to being a nerd now] Janis: ['don't push it, mate'] Jimmy: [playfully pushes her but really soft] Janis: [playfight forever] Jimmy: [just 😍 the whole time like] Janis: ['you really are so'] Jimmy: ['I like you so much'] Janis: [nods 'cos words are risky] Jimmy: ['I- I love you so much'] Janis: ['I love you too, Jimmy'] Jimmy: [gotta just hide your face in a snuggle because dying]

[conner-grace]

The Detective and his Little Assistant (part 7)

(Part Index)

Chapter 4 (part 2): Compiling the Evidence

"How can you hide it so much better than me?" I mutter angrily, taking the sunglasses, once again knowing better than to fight him.

"Cause I'm better at make-up than you, now try to get some sleep." He retorts, reminding me of his above average hearing, as I sigh annoyedly before putting on the sunglasses and leaning back, trying to get some rest, though wondering how much sleep he got, since he was rarely better than me on this count.

***

*After School*

***

To my only slight surprise, Kaito-kun actually had woken me up once we reached our stop, though the look on his face said that if we didn't have school, he would've just let me sleep and stayed on the train with me until I woke up on my own. I was headed to the auditorium to talk to Kaito-kun during his theatre club since I actually had a little free time before I had to head to work for once. I poked my head into the auditorium, smirking when I saw all the actors there, meaning Kaito-kun was most likely in the workshop finishing up certain props and such since he'd chosen not to act in this play. I head down to the workshop, which was actually just a classroom none of the teacher's wanted to teach in cause they could never get the heating and air conditioning to work. Thankfully the school had enough other classrooms, and some clubs wanted to use it for activities that may be a little messy, the only rule was that you had to clean up the room to spotless conditions after using it. I got to the room and what I heard made my blood freeze before it started to boil.

"Hey, Kaito-chin." Yuno smirks. I bite back a growl and pull out the recording pen, turning it on and slipping it into the crack in the door.

"Please don't call me that." Kaito-kun smiles, trying to be polite.

"What Kaito or chin?" She giggles, I clenched my jaw in an effort to stay quiet, the evidence I could obtain from this could be crucial.

"I'd prefer Sasaki-kun, but at least Sasaki would be would nice." He sighs, annoyance starting to bleed into his words.

"Awe, I thought we were closer than-"

"We're not, what do you want Takeya-senpai?" Kaito-kun deadpans, cutting her off, making me wonder what happened for his patience to run out so quickly, considering I'd seen him keep a smile on his face and stay polite and courteous with a classman even I could barely stand for far longer.

"It's rude to cut off those above you." She snaps irritably.

"And it's rude to knock out first years during dodgeball because you don't like them." He retorts ‘oh...that’s why his patience is thin’.

"You know, I could spread a rumor for one of your little secrets." She hisses

"And I could report to the guidance counselor how many underclassmen you've knocked out in dodgeball." He spat back.

"And I could tell Akechi-kun about your late night jobs." She taunts, I swear I could hear her smirking through her voice. I froze, unable to move 'what the hell is she talking about, and why is Kaito-kun too scared to tell me on his own'.

"Y-you wouldn't, I-I'm too useful." Kaito tries to counter, but it was obvious Yuno had played her trump card, and it worked.

"Not if you turn your back on me. I can just see it, with him being a detective, he couldn't stay close to you. With what you do, not that anyone would wanna be friends with a freak like you anyway." She smirks. It hurt to know I was part of the reason he was going through this.

"I don't have the time to do all your homework Takeya-senpai." He sighs in defeat. But, I hated the bit of joy that came knowing I was so important to him, even if he didn't trust me enough to tell me himself.

"Oh, I don't need all of it, I just need you to do my math and English, and take care of the dress Ana-sensei wanted me to patch up for the play." She smirks with a chuckle, then the rustling of paper, which I assumed was the work she wanted him to do. "It was nice talking to you Kaito-chin." She smirks

"Why does anyone with the slightest bit of power use it to trample on and use those without any?" He murmurs. Pain shot through me, cause I'd done the same, used my popularity and charisma to turn him into an informant. I thank whatever god, or very possibly demon, that's on my side he gave me a second chance.

"Because, that's just the way the world works, Kaito-chin." she chuckles, before heading to the door, making me quickly back up, turning off the pen and act as if I'd just been walking up to the room.

"Oh Akechi-kun, what are you doing here?" Yuno smiles sweetly, and as much as I wanted to punch her in the face and drag her to the principal's office with the evidence, I took a breath and put on one of my best TV smiles to greet her.

"I'm here to talk with Kaito-kun." I smile

"He's busy, maybe you could speak with me." She smiles, now leaning against the wall.

'Oh, I'll be talking with you tomorrow' I think, forcing my face to keep the Detective Prince smile. "He offered to help me with something." I say, trying to go around her.

"I'm sure I could do a better job." She smiles, stepping in my way

'Ha! Since you're getting lower classmen to do your homework, I doubt you have the intelligence to help me with even my easiest cases' I think with a sigh. "I also offered to help him with the bed prop for the play." I smile, remembering he said he might help with it a week ago while walking around Yuno and slipping in the room before she could stop me again. My TV smile fell to a snicker as I heard her make a somewhat quiet, but definitely frustrated noise. I heard another snicker behind me as I closed the door.

"She's a handful and an annoying one at that." I chuckle, looking to Kaito-kun, seeing he was standing by his bag, probably having just put Yuno's extra work in there.

"You have no idea." He mutters, shaking his head.

'You're right, I don't...' I think, deciding to confront him on this tomorrow as well and try to just cheer him up for now. "So, um, do need help with the bed, I remember that you said you might need a hand a while ago." I smile

Kaito-kun looked a bit shocked, probably not expecting me to remember. "Uh, yeah, actually I need help with the main canopy part. Can you grab the metal circle and the curtains and well, put the curtains on it while I screw in the supports?" He smiles. "Oh, warning, they're kinda heavy, especially the curtains." He adds in as I head over, and grabbed them, and then nearly fell over due to the still unexpected weight of the curtains.

"What the hell are these made of, fabric bricks?" I asked after nearly falling.

"I-pfft-tried to warn you." Kaito-kun smirks while trying, and failing, to hide his snickers.

"Quit laughing." I retort, which only made him fully bust out laughing, earning a glare from me.

"S-sorry, it's just that I almost fell when I first tried to move them too." He smirks, making me sigh annoyedly. "But, they're so heavy cause they're meant to replicate the curtains nobility and royalty had back before central heating was a thing, so they're heavy enough to keep out light, most sound, and keep in some heat." He smiles

"Oh, well that's interesting, but wouldn't cutting off sound possibly get in the way of the scenes?" I ask, a bit curious.

"Not for this play, this actually some scenes where it's important the main character can't hear what's being said." He explains as I get into a better position to lift and carry the supplies to a better spot.

"That's pretty cool actually." I smirk, setting the stuff down and starting to help.

Kaito-kun and I work quietly until I start helping him put the curtains up. The bed was a circular canopy bed, however, due to how it was built, the curtains wouldn't go over the top like normal. Instead, they just hung from supports in a band around the top, the bar the four curtains were on would hang from the spots the curtains separated. We were putting the bar on the last support when I moved my hand wrong and hit the bruise from last night, causing me to let go and making Kaito-kun to nearly drop it, but he caught it and seemed to have also caught his hand between the bar and the back of the band holding the supports.

"Did you hurt your hand?" He asks worriedly, rubbing his knuckles after wiggling his hand out of where it'd gotten wedged between the bar and the back of the band, though, I noticed he had band-aids over the knuckles of the hand that hadn't gotten caught.

"Not really I just moved my hand wrong, it's fine not." I kind of lied, while holding my still throbbing hand.

"If you're gonna lie while you're in pain, you should learn how to relax your jaw and shoulders better." He sighs annoyedly.

'For being somewhat easy to manipulate, he can spot a liar incredibly easy, maybe that's why he called me out so quickly' I think with a sigh. "Only if you tell me what those band-aids came from." I smirk.

"Fine." He sighs, looking away slightly. "I got mad and punched my locker."

He was probably lying, he probably got mad at the notes on his locker I heard about last night and tore them off, but I decided not to push it, for now at least. "I got mad at a case last night and slammed my hand on my desk, and managed to bruise my hand." I sigh, which was pretty much the truth, it just wasn't an official case.

"You're passion is going to get you seriously injured one of these days." Kaito-kun sighs, shaking his head.